Zero Mercy

Mu Yang stood frozen in the living room, the thick cream envelope trembling between her fingers. The gold-embossed crest of Dire Academy glinted under the cheap fluorescent light like a mocking crown. She had scored the highest in the entire city’s high-school entrance exam; every teacher, every classmate, every stranger on the street knew she was destined for G City No. 1 Public High, the best public school in the province. That was the only school she had written down on the application form. First choice. Only choice. Yet here it was: an acceptance letter from Dire Academy, the playground of the ultra-rich, the untouchable, the future rulers of the country. A place where tuition for one semester could buy a three-bedroom apartment in this crumbling neighborhood. Her father, Mu Chiyuan, pushed open the door, plastic shopping bags rustling in his arms. He caught sight of the envelope and broke into a sheepish grin. “Yang-yang! Got the letter already?” She nodded numbly. “Yeah, I got it. But why is it from Dire Academy? I only applied to No. 1 High!” Mu Chiyuan set the groceries on the table, rubbing the back of his neck the way he always did when he knew he’d done something unforgivable. He hesitated, then let the truth spill out like cheap cooking oil. “Sweetheart… there’s something I forgot to tell you. Your little brother—he’s turning four this year. He should start preschool soon. You know how important early education is these days. Your Aunt Yuan wants him to go to Little Sun Elite Kindergarten. It’s… well, it’s expensive. Very expensive. And our family…” He gestured vaguely at the peeling wallpaper and the second-hand sofa with the springs poking through. “We can’t really afford it right now. Aunt Yuan suggested that, with your perfect scores, Dire Academy would accept you on a full scholarship. Not only do they waive every cent of tuition, they even give a thousand yuan per semester as living expenses. That’s enough for your meals, and it lightens the burden at home a little…” Each word landed like a hammer against her ribs. So that was it. For the sake of her half-brother—the child of the woman who had destroyed her parents’ marriage—her own father had secretly altered her application behind her back. Mu Yang felt the tears burning at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. In this house, tears were a luxury no one would comfort. Ever since the divorce, ever since her mother walked out and this new “family” moved in, no one had ever wiped her tears again. Mu Chiyuan kept talking, oblivious to the storm inside her chest. “Dire’s a school for rich kids, Yang-yang. Who knows? You might even meet a wealthy boyfriend there. Then you’d—” She stopped listening. A bitter laugh clawed at her throat. She could already guess the rest: then you’d never have to worry about money again, then you could help support the family, then your brother could go to even better schools… Without a word, she turned and fled the apartment. The summer air outside was thick and humid, pressing against her skin like wet cotton. She walked aimlessly, sneakers dragging over cracked sidewalks while expensive sedans roared past, their air-conditioning blasting cold perfume into her face. The city felt alien, hostile. Was she really supposed to just accept this? To step into a world of private jets and trust funds wearing her fifty-yuan uniform from last year? She would be laughed out of the gates before she even reached the classroom. But what choice did she have? Exam results were final. The volunteer forms were set in stone. There was no appeal, no second chance. Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the pack of modified motorcycles tearing down the road until it was too late. A black-and-crimson racer clipped her shoulder, sending her spinning to the asphalt. Pain exploded across her arm and hip. The bike wobbled violently, tires screeching. For a heart-stopping second it looked like it would flip, but the rider slammed one long leg down, boot carving a smoking arc across the pavement. With inhuman balance he steadied the machine and brought it to a halt twenty meters away. Mu Yang struggled to sit up, vision swimming with black spots. Before she could even curse, an icy voice cut through the exhaust fumes. “Hey. Can’t you see a bike coming? If you’d scratched my Specialized, could you afford to pay for it?” She looked up—and the air left her lungs. The boy was leaning against his motorcycle, one gloved hand running over the carbon frame as if checking a lover for bruises. Wind tousled his ink-black hair; the dying sunlight carved his face into lethal angles—high cheekbones, a blade-straight nose, lips pressed into a disdainful line. Even the way he stood screamed money and danger, like a panther that had learned to wear a school uniform. He hadn’t spared her a single glance. Anger flared, hotter than the road burn on her palms. “You hit me! I haven’t even said anything about you injuring me, and you’re worried about your stupid bike?” Finally, those frost-colored eyes flicked toward her. They were beautiful and utterly empty, the kind of gaze that weighed a person and found them lacking, and dismissed them forever. “Be grateful nothing happened to my bike,” he said, voice so cold it could freeze blood. “It’s worth far more than you are.” He revved the engine once, a low growl of pure power, then shot after his friends without looking back. Within seconds, only a cloud of dust and the lingering scent of expensive leather remained. Mu Yang sat in the middle of the street, bruised and shaking with rage. The universe had officially declared war on her today. First her future was stolen, now she’d nearly been run over by some spoiled prince who valued a motorcycle more than a human life. She dragged herself home only because the sky was turning dark and she had nowhere else to go. The moment she stepped inside, her father knocked on her bedroom door. “Yang-yang, dinner’s ready.” She didn’t answer. Almost immediately, Yuan-ayi’s shrill voice floated through the thin walls. “Oh my, look who’s putting on airs now that she’s going to a fancy noble school. Too good to eat with the rest of us peasants?” Mu Yang’s stomach twisted. She hated that woman with every cell in her body—the woman who had seduced her father, who had turned her mother into a ghost-quiet the day she packed her bags, who now treated Mu Yang like an unwelcome guest sleeping under their roof. Mu Chiyuan’s tired voice followed. “A-Yuan, she’s upset about not getting into No. 1 High. Give her a break.” “Upset? We’re doing this for her own good! At a place like Dire, she might actually snag a rich boyfriend. Then she can live in luxury for the rest of her life—” Mu Yang couldn’t take another second. She yanked the door open and stepped out, chin high even though her heart was splintering. “Dad,” she said quietly, “I’ve thought about it. No matter which school I go to, I’ll study just as hard. As long as I get into the university I want, that’s all that matters.” Relief flooded her father’s face. Caught between his daughter and his new wife, he had clearly been suffering. “That’s my girl. I knew you’d understand.” Yuan-ayi snorted. “About time you stopped acting like the world owes you something.” Mu Yang sat at the dinner table, mechanically moving rice around her bowl. Every bite tasted like ash. She felt like a piece of furniture someone had forgotten to throw away—useful only as long as she didn’t cost too much, preferably if she could be rented out to the highest bidder. They wanted her at Dire so the family could save money. They hoped she’d find a rich boyfriend there so she could be sold off a second time, this time permanently. But she refused to surrender. Fine. She would go to that gilded cage. She would walk through marble halls filled with people who spent more on a single shirt than her family earned in a month. She would let them look down on her, laugh at her cheap backpack, whisper about the scholarship girl who didn’t belong. And she would outstudy every last one of them. She would claw her way to the top of the grade rankings, win every scholarship, seize every opportunity those spoiled princes and princesses took for granted. One day she would stand at the gates of the best university in the country, acceptance letter in hand, and no one—no father, no stepmother, no cold-eyed boy on a motorcycle—would ever be able to control her future again. That night, Mu Yang lay on her narrow bed and stared at the cracked ceiling. Somewhere across the city, Dire Academy’s ivory towers rose into the night sky like a beautiful, poisonous flower waiting to swallow her whole. Let it try. She closed her eyes, and for the first time since the envelope had landed in her hands, a tiny, fierce smile curved her lips. Just wait. They had no idea who they had invited into their world.