Chapter 85: Do You Feel Wronged?

This little girl, in truth, possessed a strength of spirit even greater than his own, but the ferocious tiger within her heart had long been shackled by the weight of others’ gossip and scorn. Today, he would help her set it free.

Without having struggled at the very bottom, no one could ever comprehend what it was like—like the filthiest insect of society, writhing and striving simply for a sliver of survival. The resilience born of hardship, the unyielding will—once given the chance, such people could astonish the world in ways never before seen.

In that instant, every gaze locked onto the small, frail girl who looked nothing like a senior in high school. Many were puzzled; many looked on with contempt, their eyes brimming with disdain.

“She’s the one who couldn’t even afford the lowest-grade awakening serum.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard she’s the only one in the whole school.”

“Hahaha! That’s pathetic! She can’t even buy the serum.”

“Pfft! Her grades are awful, and she’s poor—no wonder she’s stuck at the bottom.”

“Tsk, tsk. Look at her—those old clothes, so ugly.”

Murmurs and jeers rippled through the crowd of students.

Tang Shen heard it all, but said nothing. He merely watched Xue Jiayi from the back of the crowd.

Xue Jiayi stepped forward, head bowed. She could feel the scornful stares from every direction, just as she had in her childhood, huddled in the corners of garbage heaps, alone and unwanted, met only by faces twisted in disgust.

Her tiny fist clenched unconsciously. She didn’t want this life, didn’t want to be stared at like that. She had always longed for change.

Eighteen years—she had survived under those looks, endured, only to find despair waiting for her: she couldn’t even afford the lowest-grade awakening serum. When her name hadn’t been called, the hopelessness had nearly crushed her.

Now, each step she took was trembling. Those stares felt solid, those words rang clear in her ears. She felt aggrieved, but she no longer cried—her tears had long since been spent among the trash. No one had ever pitied her, no one had ever reached out a hand. She had only herself, picking herself up again and again, scavenging through refuse, surviving on scraps with grim determination.

“Are you feeling wronged?” A gentle voice sounded in her ear, soft as the sun’s warmth breaking through midwinter cold, reaching deep into her heart.

Xue Jiayi stared, startled. Those simple words seemed to touch the softest part of her soul. She felt a sudden urge to cry—but her tears had all been shed long ago. There was nothing left to weep.

Her wide eyes hesitantly took in the slender hand before her. The skin was flawless, smooth and delicate, even more beautiful than a woman’s hand.

She looked up and saw Tang Shen’s handsome face, gazing at her with warmth. “Give me your hand,” he said softly.

Cautiously, she placed her small hand into his beautiful one, gently gripping it.

So warm.

Then, suddenly, her feet left the ground—he lifted her onto the high platform, where she landed, dazed, standing before Tang Shen.

Below, the students watched in confusion. They could not understand why Tang Shen would call up a girl so poor she couldn’t even buy the awakening serum, a girl whose grades were worlds apart from his own. They didn’t belong to the same world.

“Do you feel wronged? I used to feel the same way,” Tang Shen began, his voice soft as he seemed lost in memory. “I never saw my parents, never knew my name. The only thing I knew was that I was abandoned the moment I was born. Why did others have parents? Why did others never need to eat from garbage heaps? Why did no one care for me? Why did everyone look at me with disgust? I had countless questions, always searching for answers.”

“To find them, I learned to survive. On the road to survival, people like us—our tears have long since dried up. We’ve cried enough. In the end, I realized no one will ever understand the wild hunger of a stray dog on the street, fighting a pack of house dogs for a single bone. No one cares about us. We have only ourselves.”

His voice was calm, tender as water—this was Tang Shen at his gentlest.

On the platform, two figures stood, one tall, one small. The crowd gazed up in stunned silence, too far away to hear Tang Shen’s quiet words.

But those onstage heard every word, clear and true.

Bai Xue trembled faintly, understanding at last that she had never truly known this man. What did it matter if she understood his life, his likes, or the tiniest details about him? She had never tried to understand his heart—what he truly thought. In these brief words, she found herself shaken, lost, at a loss.

The students clutching the grade-one awakening serum could not understand—after all, they had families, and wealthy ones at that. But the teachers, and the eight gene warriors, looked upon Tang Shen’s slender figure and fell into deep silence, a mix of respect and sympathy in their eyes.

Those who have lived long and seen much understand: this world is as it is. Unless you become strong, you are doomed to struggle as a pitiful ant, barely surviving—such is fate.

Xue Jiayi stared blankly at Tang Shen. She wanted so badly to cry, to sob her heart out, but the tears would not come. All she could do was grasp his large hand even tighter.

Suddenly, something was pressed into her palm.

A surge of urgency welled up inside her—she did not want to let go of that hand. She wished she could hold it for a lifetime.

Perhaps, all her life, she had been searching for this hand.

He gently patted her head, and she froze in place.

She yearned to shout, to move, to seize that hand again, but her body refused to obey. All she could do was watch as his figure walked away.

“Awaken. You do not belong to this ordinary world.”

It was a sigh, a whisper at her ear, a silent cry.

Xue Jiayi found she could move again, but the figure was gone. All she could do was stare at the clear vial in her hand—the thing she had yearned for these eighteen years.

“Awaken?” she murmured, a whisper meant for herself alone.

Something inside her shattered, and something else was born anew.

To all who watched, Xue Jiayi seemed somehow changed, and yet still the same.

Her small hand clutched the vial tightly, holding on to the last lingering warmth from that hand.

Most of those present now stared at her in shock, envy, and jealousy, their eyes fixed on the grade-one awakening serum in her grasp—the finest available.