Chapter 5 Who Wouldn't Go Crazy After Being Falsely Accused?

Jean smiled faintly, but her eyes were icy cold. "I'm actually really easy to get along with. If that doesn't happen, maybe take a good look at yourselves." She shook her head with regret. "Give your brains a shake, see if you can hear the ocean in there. Maybe your heads are flooded. That’s the only way you’d think pulling something like this was a good idea." Jean’s words kept coming, and some of the kids actually started to go pale. The classroom fell into a heavy silence. No one said a word. No one even thought to argue. Right then— The sharp clack of high heels echoed from behind. Homeroom teacher Wendy had just arrived at the classroom door. She had only just gotten there, but managed to catch the last few words Jean had said. Wendy narrowed her eyes and swept her gaze across the classroom. Her voice was cold and stern. "What’s going on here?" The students acted like they’d just been saved. Everyone let out a breath. "Ms. Wendy." A tall, slender girl quickly raised her hand. Her skin was pale, her features delicate, and her voice was soft and airy like a spring breeze. "Jean was yelling at people just now." She didn’t even pause. In the blink of an eye, she pinned a “crime” on Jean. Jean looked over at her. The girl’s name was Lacey. A well-known heiress at the academy. Unlike Jean, she was always the center of attention. Wendy nodded and didn’t question Lacey’s words at all. The teachers at Stellarford Academy were under a lot of pressure. Sure, they came from decent backgrounds and had impressive resumes, but in front of these silver-spoon-fed heirs and heiresses, they were the ones on the bottom. They had to walk a careful line. Strict enough to maintain order, but never so far as to cross any boundaries— Like offending one of them. The consequences of that weren’t something they could afford. And in Wendy’s eyes, Jean was clearly an exception. Her background was murky. Her parents were practically invisible. There were even rumors going around that she was the illegitimate daughter of one of the school’s staff, and that she got into the school through that shady connection. Even if it was just a rumor, most people believed it. Jean didn’t give off a rich-girl vibe at all. She looked insecure, withdrawn. If she really was some teacher’s secret kid, that would explain everything. Wendy didn’t like Jean. It wasn’t just because of her supposedly humble origins—her grades were awful too. She was the kind of girl who, aside from being sort of cute, had nothing going for her. Nothing about her made people want to be around her. To Wendy, there was no question. Lacey was a well-bred young lady whose reputation needed defending. Jean— Was just a nuisance she could scold however she liked. "Ms." Jean refused to back down and immediately opened her mouth to defend herself. "I swear to God, if I actually swore at someone just now, then may I be doomed to eat nothing but porridge for the rest of my life." What she’d said couldn’t count as swearing at all. At most, it was passive-aggressive. Wendy’s face turned cold. She clearly didn’t take Jean’s words seriously. Wasn’t this girl supposed to be quiet and antisocial? When did she get so sharp-tongued? "I don’t need you to swear oaths," she said, lips drawn tight. Her tone was severe. "I need you to learn how to admit when you’re wrong." Jean understood immediately—this woman had already decided she was guilty. She gave a harmless little smile and said, "Well, maybe you should take a look at my pants first." As she spoke, Jean turned around and showed Wendy her back. "You..." Wendy stared at the glaring red paint smeared across Jean’s pants, eyes wide in shock. "What happened to you?!" "The same people who said I was yelling at them. They did it." Jean blinked at her, reached down to touch the paint on her pants, then reached out and wiped it on Wendy’s sleeve. "See for yourself. It’s real paint. Isn’t that just nasty?" Wendy jerked away, furious, and slapped Jean’s hand aside. Her face twisted in disgust. "Jean, are you insane?!" She looked like she wanted to scrub her arm clean on the spot. "It’s not that bad." Jean smiled lightly, completely at ease. "If you were being blamed for something you didn’t do, wouldn’t you go a little crazy too? Don’t you think?" In the end, Jean was "invited" to the office. Wendy practically tore into her the moment they got there. Not a single word was spared. She didn’t try to save face for her at all. Then, Wendy gave her a punishment: go to the sports field and pick up trash. She wasn’t allowed to come back until she’d picked up enough. Jean didn’t want to go at first. But after thinking about it, staying here would just be more frustrating. Might as well get some fresh air. Just as she was stepping out of the office, a girl with blunt bangs and a high ponytail came running up to her. "Jean!" She was panting, out of breath, and struggling to speak. Jean stopped walking. "Here," the girl said suddenly, pulling a pair of black sweatpants from behind her back and handing them to Jean. "Take these." "Your pants are dirty. Go change, quick.We’re about the same height, so they should fit." Jean blinked a few times and started sizing up the girl in front of her. If she remembered right, her name was Sofia. She was probably the only one in class who had ever treated the host like a normal person. Of course, Jean didn’t have a lot of information to work with. Sofia was a minor character in the book, so she didn’t have much screentime. The host’s memories of her were scattered at best. But it was enough. Once Jean confirmed this girl wasn’t trying to mess with her, she smiled and took the pants. "Thanks." She’d been planning to clean up and find a change of clothes before heading out to the field anyway. Now that someone had offered help, why would she refuse? After she changed, Jean walked out to the field under the blazing sun. It was obvious now—Wendy was the type who judged people by their background. Unlike her flashy, outgoing brothers, the host had always kept a painfully low profile at school. She never showed off her family, her clothes and supplies were barebones at best. Almost no one knew she was the youngest daughter of the Ginger family. In fact, not just at school—the entire upper crust of society barely knew she existed. The host was reserved and avoided socializing, almost like her family had intentionally hidden her away. You could probably count on one hand the number of people who knew her name. Which made her the perfect target in a school full of elite kids. Jean looked like she had nothing to do with any of them. Wendy? She made a habit of picking on people just like that.