novelraw Chapter 87
Chapter 87
Chapter 87
"Look, the script's like this—it'll only take half a day. Tell me which day this weekend you're free."
Bai Yi sent the MV storyboard to Yan Huan via Plane: a PDF file, every page handwritten.
Yan Huan skimmed the outline, then looked up at her.
"So... what's the problem?"
"Well, nothing huge. The rest of the storyboard is great, except—"
He smiled, turned his phone so she could see a sketched storyboard panel, and asked,
"You really want Mrs. Zuo's business that obvious in the MV?"
Bai Yi's script laid bare almost everything Mrs. Zuo had done to her—easy fodder for gossip.
Bai Yi pouted.
"This is literally the journey that created the song. Nothing wrong with that.
"My mom—you've met her—she's like this in public, even worse in private.
"After all these years I'm used to it. Putting it on film will be my way of letting go."
Yan Huan locked his phone and looked at her.
"Bai Yi sis, once it's on film, you may find letting go a lot harder."
She blinked, then stared at the phone again.
A second of silence later she laughed.
"Anyway, it's just a first draft. I'll revise this part with the actual MV director. Thanks for the heads-up."
"No worries. I'm free every weekend day. Ping me when you're ready."
"Deal!"
They reached the foot of the club building; muffled racket spilled from inside.
Beyond the rear of the sprawling structure, a track-team of hundreds thundered around the oval. The leader, a burly blond, jogged while whistling the cadence.
Track-team captain Owen.
On the sideline, his girlfriend Gongzi sat on the grass with a few girls, chatting and exchanging glances with Owen.
"Go, Track Team!"
"Whoo!"
Bai Yi watched, then tapped her chin.
"Club Wars is coming. I'd heard it's famous—students and parents from other schools come to watch."
"Right. So, have you chosen a club?"
"Yep. Light Music Club—since I can play a bit."
Light Music Club, huh.
Before Yan Huan could add anything, a crash boomed from the second floor.
Boom!
Clatter!
Bai Yi grabbed the railing, startled.
"W-what was that?"
Yan Huan glanced upward, expression freezing.
"That direction... no way."
He took the stairs two at a time, Bai Yi close behind.
"Wait, Yan Huan, what's on the sec—whoa!! What is all this?!"
Bai Yi stepped onto the second-floor landing and froze behind Yan Huan, whose face had gone black.
The corridor was littered with mosaic-covered manga—covers showing girls in scandalous poses. Her cheeks flamed like a lighter to paper.
So shameless!
Everything's censored with holy light, yet still—!
Wait... what's this?
"Transparent Adjustment X: The President Has No Idea What Happened Last Night~"
Oh my.
That title...
And the art is... striking.
Bai Yi tiptoed forward, nudged one volume with her toe—
kick—
and slid it under the fire-hose cabinet.
She followed Yan Huan's storm-cloud back toward the far classroom, acting innocent.
"President! You're finally here!"
"I swear, look what this idiot did—Ms. Lin almost had a heart attack!"
Outside room 201, Hashimoto and Ashley, each holding a trash bag, waved Yan Huan over.
Yan Huan's voice was flat.
"Where's Spencer?"
No need to ask—only Spencer could pull this off.
"Eek!"
At the L-shaped bend, a certain blond lion crouched, twitching. She risked a glance, saw Yan Huan's face, and whipped her head away.
Too late—his tall shadow already covered her.
"Eek!!"
She leapt like a flea, bag in hand, and retreated several meters.
"Oh, Yan Huan! What a coincidence."
"Coincidence my foot. Explain."
Spencer's eyes wandered. She scratched her head, then brightened.
"It's an accident! I'll clean it up—here, read this and chill!"
She thrust a censored volume at him. Yan Huan wanted to smack her.
"Bag this trash first, then get in here and confess!"
He stalked off. Spencer pouted.
"Mean, mean, mean! Just you wait, I'll get you back!"
Downstairs, An Le caught her breath, hand on her chest.
She checked Spencer's text and smiled at the three Doujin Club freshmen behind her.
"Our club room's on the second floor. Spencer says everything's set."
The moment her foot hit the second-floor tile, she froze.
She stared at the manga under her shoe:
"Pleasure Purgatory: How My Childhood Friend Chose to Make Him Happy~"
One glance and she recoiled as if burned.
"Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump..."
She scooped the book against her chest, near tears, and turned to the horrified freshmen.
"I—I don't know what Spencer did!"
The commotion drew curious students from upstairs. Gasps and whispers filled the hall.
Jiang Yun covered her face.
"An Le, can we still quit the club?"
"S-sorry!!"
Minutes later, in spacious room 201, Yan Huan sat on the tatami, sipping hot water. Across the low table, Spencer fidgeted.
Room 201 more than justified its sky-high rent: broad tatami space, low tables, a full tea set, and floor-to-ceiling windows framing the crimson track bathed in late-afternoon light. Beyond the glass, the tiered stands could seat thousands.
Under the hum of the air-conditioner, Spencer folded her arms and nodded sagely.
"Right, so—didn't expect someone to barge in. Miscalculation."
Next to her, Hashimoto never looked up from his phone.
"No, it's because you're an idiot. You knew the teacher and the rest of us would show up now, but you still dumped all the books right in front of the door."
Ashley propped her chin in her hand, a vein pulsing at her temple, then slammed the table with a crisp *smack!*
"Are we really debating whether piling doujinshi at the entrance is stupid? The issue is how this lunatic smuggled half a library of contraband onto campus! Doesn't sitting in a sea of mosaics freak you out?"
Spencer blinked innocently.
"But without the books, could we still call ourselves the Doujin Club?"
Ashley's face went scarlet.
"So you carpeted the entire hallway with banned material? Half the school rubber-necked on their way past! What if someone pocketed a few?"
At that, An Le buried her face in her hands; the corner of a suspiciously titled book peeked from inside her blazer. Nearby, Bai Yi—who had wandered in for no clear reason—looked away, eyes darting.
Ms. Lin finally remembered she was the only adult in the room. Adjusting her glasses, she turned to the Golden Lion heiress with a brittle smile.
"Spencer, how exactly did you purchase and ship... all this?"
"Oh, I asked the AI to order and deliver it."
Yan Huan raised an eyebrow. "The AI?"
Even Hashimoto glanced up. "Golden Lion's AIs have legal safeguards. They're not supposed to buy this stuff."
Spencer beamed and gave herself a thumbs-up.
"True, but I've spent years with that AI. I know its loopholes."
"Come again?"
"It normally refuses, sure. But if I say I'm clinically depressed, therapy's useless, and the only cure is a massive doujin haul—well, it complies."
Yan Huan blinked. Hashimoto stared. The room fell silent until Yan Huan managed, "...You're unstoppable."
"Ehehe."
"Stop 'ehe-ing.'"
At Yan Huan's deadpan tone, Spencer's grin evaporated. She deflated on the spot.
Yan Huan sipped his tea and turned to An Le. The moment his gaze landed on her, she flushed crimson and clutched whatever she was hiding even tighter.
"The application you submitted was clear," Yan Huan said. "The club's activities can involve comics and illustration—just not contraband."
"I'm sorry, Xiao Huan," An Le murmured. "I didn't keep Spencer in check."
Bai Yi, still seated on the tatami behind Yan Huan, caught An Le's reaction. A tiny frown tugged at her brow. She suddenly recalled Vice-President Sakuramiya's offhand remark back in the office:
"Oh? The President? No idea where he went—probably to see his childhood sweetheart."
"Childhood sweetheart?"
Sakuramiya had smiled.
"An Le from Class 1-C. At the Linmen Game Expo she kept calling him 'Xiao Huan.' Hard to forget."
Bai Yi studied An Le's sweet, delicate face, her gaze drifting lower—
*Boing.*
Something impossibly soft bounced her line of sight back up. Bai Yi wiped the sudden sweat from her brow.
What on earth does this girl eat?
Yan Huan addressed Spencer again. "Regardless, these are banned. The Discipline Committee will confiscate everything. Ashley."
Ashley rose with a huff. "I'll round up the committee to haul it all out."
Spencer opened her mouth—then withered under Yan Huan's glare.
Anxious to defuse the tension, An Le waved her hands. "Anyway, today's our first official meeting. Spencer, Ms. Lin's here—let's discuss any issues with her."
Spencer pouted but dropped the death stare.
"You all continue," Yan Huan said. "Ashley, dispose of the contraband. Hashimoto—"
"I need to inventory club equipment." Hashimoto stood, tablet in hand.
Yan Huan turned to Bai Yi. "Want me to show you the Light Music Club?"
"Sure, let's go."
The moment Bai Yi rose, the room's chaotic energy crystallized into a spotlight. As one of Linmen's hottest idols, her looks and voice commanded every eye. An Le's lips parted; up close, the star who had dazzled at the game expo was even more breathtaking. Yet a flicker of unease crossed her face as she watched the easy rapport between Bai Yi and Yan Huan.
On her shoulder, Xiao Muzi flicked its tongue and delivered the commentary An Le couldn't voice:
"Yo, your precious 'Xiao Huan' sure is popular. Another perfect little cat burglar incoming?"
An Le made a small, strangled sound.
Spencer's golden antenna-hair seemed to catch the same signal, glowing brighter. She glanced from Yan Huan to Bai Yi and then to An Le, a knowing smirk forming.
A beat later, Yan Huan led Bai Yi out. Ashley marshaled a squad of Discipline Committee members to cart away several bulging sacks, shooting Spencer one last glare. Hashimoto began his rounds with the tablet.
When the outsiders were gone, only five club members and one shell-shocked teacher remained.
Ms. Lin, mistaking Spencer's distant gaze for sulking, forced a reassuring smile.
"Spencer, bringing contraband to school is never right. They took it—learn from it and move on."
"Oh? I'm not upset. That stuff was cheap." Spencer shrugged, then lifted a tatami panel. Beneath it lay neat stacks of *uncensored* doujin. On top: *Tsundere Surrenders: The Complete Collection!* She tapped the "secret stash" label and grinned at Ms. Lin's widening eyes.
"They only took the ones I didn't like. My favorites are safe."
Ms. Lin's smile cracked like porcelain. A pale, translucent soul floated out of her body, mouth frozen in Munch's *Scream*.
Why am I still alive?
Whatever the case, the Doujin Club was officially founded.
As the storm settled and the looming Club Wars approached, Spencer would strike in full doujin force.
"Pile everything here!"
"Got it."
"Thanks for the hard work, everyone. Let's go."
Moments later, in the Discipline Committee office on the same top floor, committee members stacked the confiscated sacks against the wall.
Then they turned and left, and Ashley, too, prepared to head out for practice in the club building.
"Ashley, what on earth did you two haul back?"
Just as she slid the key into the lock, a gentle voice sounded beside her.
She turned and saw Sakuramiya Hitomi, Vice-President of the Student Council, dressed in an elegant Sakura-style dress and carrying a stack of folders, tilting her head in curiosity.
"Ah, Vice-President Sakuramiya! Spencer showed up with a truckload of contraband. The President told us to confiscate it, so I dumped it in the office for now."
Sakuramiya's lips curved into a soft smile. "I see. Go on to practice—I still have some files to organize. I'll lock up later."
"Okay, thanks! I'll get going then, Vice-President."
"Mm-hmm. Take care."
She watched Ashley jog down the stairs, clearly worried about being late, and waited until the footsteps faded. The gracious smile on her face slowly thinned, settling into its true, unguarded expression.
Sakuramiya stepped inside, set the folders on a desk, and paused at the sight of the bulging sacks stacked against the wall.
"So much stuff—what is all this?"
Curious, she tugged at the drawstring of the nearest sack. The knot loosened just enough for a single book to slip free and land on the floor with a soft thud.
Thud.
She blinked, then looked down.
A glossy cover glared up at her, every inch censored with blinding white rays and digital mosaics. Emblazoned across it in ornate script:
"48 Days of Surveillance & Confinement—My Personal Basement Game~"
A faint flush rose to her cheeks. "Oh my... I didn't expect this sort of thing."
Silence stretched. She glanced toward the open doorway—once, twice—confirming the corridor was empty. At last she bent, retrieved the volume with delicate fingers, and stole another quick look around.
Ahem.
Calmly, she slid the book behind her back, cinched the sack shut, and drifted to the desk. Only then did she open the cover and begin to study its contents in earnest.
"Oh my...
"Well, now..."