Rachel Liu's eyes widened in disbelief at the scene before her.
Before she could even speak, she saw Evan Lin already stepping out into midair from the window!
This was the fourth floor of the library!
From the fourth floor, that's a fifteen-meter drop—falling from here means death or crippling injury!
Rachel Liu's heart lurched, her face turning pale. She hurried to the window, craned her neck to look down, but instead of seeing Evan Lin dead on the ground as she'd expected, she saw the back of a youth walking toward the soccer field, hands in his pockets, looking completely carefree.
"Showing off again!" Rachel Liu muttered. She figured Evan Lin must've used some trick to get down—there's no way he just jumped straight out.
Dropping from that height and walking away unharmed? Impossible.
"Still pretending it’s not all to get my attention, Evan Lin, you’re way too childish. You beat up Buck Niu at White Dragon Mountain, and now the Niu family’s got their eye on you, yet you keep acting like this." Rachel’s clear eyes regained their usual calm.
She watched Evan Lin heading for the field, remembering the rumors that had been circulating around school.
Some idiot from Class 7 was going to single-handedly take down Class 3’s Ethan Yi.
"That idiot is you, isn’t it? Going to the field now just to embarrass yourself?" Rachel Liu shook her head faintly, deciding not to think about Evan Lin anymore and focusing on the pages of her book.
This year’s Olympiad competition was important to Rachel Liu. She didn’t need it to prove herself—she already had a guaranteed spot at Yanjing University—but she still wanted to take first place.
Because she was Rachel Liu.
......
On the field, Ethan Yi dribbled the ball from his own half, broke through five defenders, then fired a sharp-angled shot—another goal.
Six to zero.
Looking up at the scoreboard by the referee’s stand, Darren Zhao looked dazed. Every player on Class 7’s team wore a miserable expression.
At the rest area, Mia Chen’s pretty face was ghostly pale.
During practice matches, sure, they’d lost badly—but even then, the whole game only saw six goals.
Now, there were still ten minutes left in the first half.
In less than a single half, they'd already let in six goals. With ten minutes left, who knows how many more they’d concede.
All this did was highlight how powerful Ethan Yi was—and just how weak Class 7 really was.
As Class 7’s monitor, Mia Chen looked miserable, not sure how she’d explain things to Mr. Zheng after the match.
After scoring, Ethan Yi gave a big thumbs-up toward the Class 3 stands. He swept his gaze around but didn’t spot Rachel Liu, and a trace of disappointment flickered in his eyes.
“Ethan Yi! I love you!”
“Ethan Yi! Go, go, go!”
“Ethan Yi is the hottest!”
With that one move from Ethan Yi, the whole section of the stands went wild.
It was a total one-sided beatdown.
Class 7 didn’t have a shred of fighting power.
“Yolanda, this isn’t just getting beaten—Class 7’s getting stomped into the ground by Ethan Yi.” A girl in the stands gazed at Ethan with pure admiration.
“Of course! You know who’s got taste around here.” Yolanda Fang rested her chin on her hands, sounding proud: “Any guy I like is guaranteed to be tomorrow’s international soccer star. Why else do you think I’m so into him? Sure, Ethan Yi’s good-looking, but there’s plenty of hot guys out there.”
Yolanda Fang was a little smug, but she still hadn’t managed to win over Ethan Yi, which left her a bit frustrated.
“That friend of yours, Evan Lin, still hasn’t shown up. Did he chicken out?” Another girl glanced at Class 7’s bench, which should have had substitutes, but right now only Mia Chen was sitting there.
“Who knows, maybe.” Yolanda Fang waved it off, not interested in fussing over Evan Lin.
“Coach Peter, what do you think of our class’s Ethan Yi?”
Ethan Zhang, sitting beside Coach Peter, watched the one-sided slaughter on the field with a big smile on his face.
Today, Ethan Yi was hands-down the best player on the pitch. Again and again he dribbled past defenders, tore into the penalty area, his moves as fluid as water—no hesitation at all.
Coach Peter nodded approvingly. "Given time and training, he could definitely become a striker who helps the national team break down opposing defenses."
The translator relayed his words. Ethan Zhang’s face broke into a huge grin. He glanced over at Mr. Zheng, whose expression was like he’d just swallowed a pile of crap.
Mr. Zheng clenched his fists, finally stood up, and walked straight out the back gate of the stadium.
He couldn't bear the humiliation.
Seeing Mr. Zheng leave, Ethan Zhang felt a wave of satisfaction.
Just then, the whistle blew for halftime.
The score was frozen at seven to zero.
“Damn! This game is hopeless! Ethan Yi was never this fierce during practice matches!” Darren Zhao and his crew stomped to the bench, each grabbing a bottle of water and gulping it down.
“How are we supposed to play? All of us together can’t stop Ethan Yi. We haven’t even gotten near their penalty area all half. Class 3’s defenders and goalkeeper are so bored they could start playing cards.” Leon Li hung his head, totally defeated.
Derek Wang took a swig of water, let out a deep breath, and looked utterly dejected. “Without Victor Feng, we’re hopeless. No one can stop Ethan Yi, and we don’t have anyone who can break through with the ball. No defense, no offense—we’re just getting strung up and beaten.”
A dark cloud hung over Class 7; no one said a word.
Class 3, meanwhile, was all cheers and excitement.
“This time, we’re gonna beat Class 7 at least fifteen to zero!” A boy from Class 3 grinned.
“No question. Ethan Yi’s finally showing his true strength. In practice, he always held back, letting Class 7 think they were hot stuff. Today, they’ll see what Class 3 is really made of!”
Ethan Yi smiled. “Class 7 is just a wall with a few more people than usual.”
“Hey, wasn’t Class 7 supposed to have some Evan Lin who’d take on our whole team solo in the second half?” A boy took a sip of water, sounding curious.
“Yeah, right. I just checked—there’s nobody on Class 7’s bench. I bet Evan Lin’s run off somewhere by now.” Another boy scoffed.
“Exactly. Who’d be dumb enough to show their face now? If Class 7 could, they’d have bailed already.”
“Hey, wait—look over there.”
Class 7’s goalkeeper Xuan tightened her grip on her water bottle cap, stretched out her hand, and pointed outside the field.
Over there, a lone figure walked slowly toward them.