Ying Gong Tong considered herself burdened with a bad habit: hypocrisy.
Of course, everyone has some degree of hypocrisy. After all, no one wants to hear the unvarnished truth all the time. Social niceties and pretenses exist to conceal one’s raw, unfiltered thoughts.
But Ying Gong Tong was acutely aware of the extent of her own duplicity and the unpleasant reality it concealed beneath. This self-awareness sharpened her outer facade with a cold rationality, forming a protective layer of thorns.
It was this armor that prompted her to declare upon entering Yuanyue Academy:
"I will never fall in love."
At face value, it seemed a proud declaration of disinterest in romance. In reality, it was a barrier against intimacy, shielding her true, unsightly self from scrutiny. After all, she believed any affection directed at her would inevitably dissipate upon seeing the flawed, vulnerable person beneath her polished exterior.
Since the end was preordained, why even begin?
What Ying Gong didn’t anticipate was that these thorns, meant to keep others at bay, couldn’t stop her true self from gazing outward and longing to approach someone.
She couldn’t recall when her feelings for Yan Huan began.
She only remembered one particular afternoon when she had invited the Student Council to her rented apartment. They had planned to dine out, but Yan Huan had instead cooked for everyone at home.
That day, he made her favorite caramel pudding. She remembered watching him as he served dessert.
Her three cats had nestled around him, purring and rubbing against him affectionately. Yan Huan, in turn, gently stroked their chins, smiling with genuine patience.
In that moment, the thorns meant to shield her faltered, and the turmoil beneath began to stir. She found herself yearning to know more about him.
His thoughts. His routines. His joys and sorrows. His... everything.
To track when Yan Huan would come to the Student Council office, she installed the first hidden camera.
And that was the beginning of an obsession she couldn’t contain.
She began installing cameras everywhere—his classroom, hallways, the Council office, outside his part-time job, even outside his rented apartment.
Do you remember how Ying Gong suddenly sent a Plane message to Yan Huan when Ye Shiyu hypnotized him last Friday?
That was because Yan Huan hadn’t shown up at his usual time outside the pub where he worked, nor had he returned home. She couldn’t wait any longer and called, disrupting Ye Shiyu’s plans.
Ying Gong knew this wasn’t how affection was supposed to work. She shouldn’t be monitoring him obsessively, trying to control his life.
But her inner self, shackled by the persona of the considerate “Vice President,” had already begun its frenzied dance.
Earlier, when she opened her laptop, there weren’t just photos of Yan Huan. She had even transcribed snippets of his conversations, meticulously analyzing his words.
She wanted to understand everything he said, every nuance of his thoughts.
Yet often, his words left her bewildered.
For instance:
【Fish. Big fish. A tiger-striped shark.】
Documented alongside a Plane chat screenshot dated March 9:
"Message sent after Yan Huan visited the aquarium. Response to my commentary on sharks was ambiguous. Meaning unclear—recorded for further review."
【I’m fighting Sukuna, seriously?】
March 6: “While reporting to the Principal, he said this to me suddenly.
Why compare the Principal to a mythical demon? Does he find him intimidating? Meaning unclear...”
【What the heck? Is this still my country?】
March 4: “Comment made upon seeing the newly rearranged Student Council office after I cleaned it.
Seems to express disbelief over the decor, though I only adjusted the furniture and added bookshelves.”
These were just a few examples. Her document spanned pages, filled with notes from last semester onward.
Despite months of observation, Yan Huan remained an enigma.
Perhaps it was because of her inability to understand that she couldn’t bring herself to ask questions directly. She feared exposing her feelings might draw him closer, forcing him to scrutinize her.
Then, he would uncover the truth.
"Why do you know I didn’t go home?"
"Why do you know when I finish work?"
"Why do you know who I spoke to in class?"
Because... I’m always watching you, monitoring you from the shadows.
This was the wretched truth Ying Gong couldn’t admit.
If only there were a place where such desires could be expressed without judgment, where even her most unsightly thoughts would be considered normal...
There, she could freely observe him, understand everything about him, and boldly share her twisted wishes.
When this idea first emerged, a voice echoed in her mind:
【Activate Room Boundary?】
Room Boundary?
The text explained:
[Boundary Level: 1]
[Effect Description: Once per week, create a 50-square-meter enclosed area. Maximum number of boundaries: 1.]
Within the boundary, the following effects apply:
You can establish rules that must be obeyed.
You gain omnidirectional surveillance of the area, viewable remotely.
You can modify the “common sense” of individuals within the boundary, adding one new norm per use. However, the modification cannot force actions impossible for the individual.
Upon leaving, affected individuals forget their time within the boundary, with memories seamlessly adjusted. However, a third party may notice inconsistencies in “common sense.”
Remaining inside the boundary increases its level, expanding its range and effects.
When she activated the boundary in the Student Council office for the first time, Ying Gong felt an unprecedented sense of safety.
Since that day, the office boundary had never been deactivated.
“Clap!”
Ying Gong’s reverie was interrupted by the sharp snap of fingers. The translucent text in her vision dissolved, leaving only the words:
[Boundary Level: 2]
[Current Area: 75 square meters. Maximum boundaries: 2.]
She blinked, pulling herself back to reality, and looked up at Yan Huan, standing beside her in gym clothes.
“Ying Gong, class is almost over. It’s our turn to clean up today.”
It was Monday afternoon during an elective volleyball class they shared.
After showing Ye Shiyu around campus during lunch, Yan Huan had skipped the office to take a nap before coming straight to the gym.
Normally, Ying Gong was a bystander during such activities, her poor stamina keeping her on the sidelines after the teacher’s instructions. But today, she had been so lost in thought she hadn’t moved at all.
“...Okay, President.”
Ying Gong stood slowly, as if she had something to ask, but instead silently nodded.
Most of the volleyballs had already been collected. Together, they worked to dismantle the net and return the equipment to the storage room.
“You didn’t move much today. Not feeling well?” Yan Huan asked as they worked.
“A little. I’ll feel better after this week.”
Her reply made Yan Huan pause. Understanding dawned, and he smiled knowingly.
“You can rest, Ying Gong. I’ll handle this.”
“...”
Ying Gong glanced at Yan Huan’s gentle smile but didn’t step away.
“It’s fine. Let’s finish together.”
She wasn’t unwell.
What lingered on her mind was Ye Shiyu.
Unlike the countless girls who admired Yan Huan from afar, Ying Gong had grown accustomed to them during her surveillance.
But Ye Shiyu was different.
Yan Huan’s patience and warmth toward her stood out.
On Saturday, he had even called Ying Gong to ask why she liked cats, likely for Ye Shiyu’s sake.
That expressionless, doll-like girl?
Though Ying Gong had spent months studying Yan Huan’s every habit, Ye Shiyu had somehow captured his unique attention in just a few days.
Why?
Because she’s his sister?
That sister... doesn’t seem like a good sister.
Unbeknownst to Ying Gong, Yan Huan’s unusual patience with Ye Shiyu wasn’t driven by affection—but by sheer survival instinct.
Ying Gong Tong told herself to stay calm. After all, the President had once said something to her that gave her hope—
"I’ve remembered why I like cats."
Could this be his way of saying he liked her?
If their feelings were mutual, wouldn’t her surveillance, monitoring, and attempts to control him all be justified?
She needed to confirm Yan Huan’s feelings.
However, the poised and considerate "Vice President Ying Gong Tong" she had constructed wouldn’t pry into someone else’s personal life.
So, she needed another method.
“The weather’s been warming up recently. It’s been nice and sunny the past few days,” she began, her tone casual.
“Mm... like when I went to the aquarium?” Yan Huan replied, catching on.
“Yes, exactly. It was pretty bright there, wasn’t it?”
Ying Gong stowed the net into the equipment cart, and together, they pushed it toward the storage room behind the gym.
The unlocked door creaked open, revealing a spacious and well-stocked interior. Yuanyue spared no expense—students paid exorbitant tuition, so the equipment was top-notch.
There were balls of every kind, protective gear, yoga mats, crash pads, and more.
Ying Gong entered first, while Yan Huan pushed the cart in behind her. They parked it neatly inside.
“All done.”
“Ding-ding-ding~”
The bell signaling the end of class echoed from outside. Yan Huan, catching sight of Ying Gong slightly out of breath from their minor exertion, suddenly realized how thirsty he was.
Not because of Ying Gong, of course—he’d just been active all class without a drink.
“Thirsty... Let’s go, Ying Gong. I’ll grab something to drink. Want me to get you anything?”
“I was thinking of going off-campus for a drink. Maybe pick up some dessert, too. Want to come along?”
“Dessert, huh...” Yan Huan scratched his chin, mulling it over.
Just then, the door slammed shut with a thunderous BANG!
Both froze. Ying Gong instinctively covered her ears, startled by the noise.
“What the—?”
Yan Huan frowned, striding to the door. Grasping the handle, he twisted it firmly.
“Clack, clack, clack...”
The handle groaned but refused to budge. No matter how much strength he applied, the door stood as unyielding as a fortress.
“President, what’s wrong?” Ying Gong asked, stepping closer.
“The door’s locked?”
“Huh?”
Ying Gong frowned and tried the handle herself, but it was no use. Frustrated, she raised her voice, shouting,
“Is anyone out there? This isn’t funny! Open the door!”
“...”
There was no response.
Yan Huan inhaled deeply, motioning for Ying Gong to step back. He took a few steps himself, then sprinted forward and slammed his foot against the door.
“BANG!!”
The impact reverberated through the room, but the door didn’t even tremble. It felt like kicking a solid brick wall.
Instead, Yan Huan absorbed most of the force, stumbling back a few steps.
“President! Are you alright?!” Ying Gong hurried over, concern evident.
“I’m fine.”
But his tone was somber. He glanced at the unmoving door, a chill creeping into his thoughts. Something wasn’t right.
As if to confirm his suspicions, a small slip of paper fluttered in through the gap beneath the door, carried by an unseen force.
The note landed at their feet, and Yan Huan bent down to pick it up. Together with Ying Gong, he read its contents:
【Want to get out of here?】
【Then you two must hold hands for 10 minutes, hug for 10 minutes, and kiss for 10 minutes.】
For a moment, Yan Huan’s mind blanked.
This felt... way too familiar.
Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation seemed to snap into place. Everything clicked. Everything nonsensical now made perfect sense.
He turned to look at Ying Gong, who was holding a hand over her mouth in shock, her wide eyes darting between the note and him.
In that instant, he had a vague sense of the bigger picture.
Activating his secret weapon, Perfect Expression Management, Yan Huan’s face remained calm and composed.
But Ying Gong, catching his gaze, took a few hesitant steps back. Her eyes flickered with a mix of suspicion and fear. For a fleeting moment, it seemed she doubted his innocence—wondering if this entire scenario was his elaborate scheme to take advantage of her.
Her rationality quickly overruled her doubts. She recalled Yan Huan’s reputation—his measured, gentlemanly behavior—and chose to trust him.
Even so, she kept her distance, her voice trembling as she tried to project strength,
“President... What’s going on here?”
Her genuine reaction threw Yan Huan off momentarily.
Wait, is she seriously worried I orchestrated this?
“Calm down, Ying Gong. Don’t panic. Let me think for a second...”
“Y-yes, okay. Take your time, President.”
Ying Gong bit her lip, willing herself to remain composed. She had faith in Yan Huan.
But was it truly not her doing?
For all her surveillance and detailed notes, Ying Gong had always maintained a veneer of restraint. She was careful not to cross the line, to keep her actions untraceable.
Still, was there someone else using a Modifier?
If so, why?
Ye Shiyu’s Modifier had been driven by possessiveness—her desire to make Yan Huan leave her family’s home.
But this situation didn’t align with that pattern. Was someone else using a Modifier to trap them, just to voyeuristically enjoy their predicament?
Yan Huan’s head spun as he considered the possibilities.
Could this really be Ying Gong’s doing?
But what’s her motive?
Glancing at her, he saw her standing behind a crash mat, as though using it as a barrier between them. She still looked wary of him, hesitant to trust the situation completely.
If not Ying Gong, then who?
And what exactly was the Modifier’s effect?
Fidgeting with the note in his hand, Yan Huan’s thoughts raced as he tried to make sense of the bizarre scenario.