Chapter 86 The Second Generation of the Student Self-Governance Council

The Student Self-Governance Committee, while its name might sound lofty, was in reality nothing more than a small clique of second-generation heirs within the school. These “second generations” were not from any ordinary families; to join this exclusive circle, one’s family needed a resident Level 3 figure to hold the fort.

Even within this group, equality was a mere illusion. After entering the Student Self-Governance Committee, ranking was not based on personal strength. The first criterion was the strength of the family member presiding over their household; naturally, a Level 4 would outrank a Level 3.

For example, at Yang City Third High School, there was now a student from a Level 4 family. Though he was already the fifth generation of his lineage, he still held the title of Honorary President of the Student Self-Governance Committee.

Next, they compared their relationship to the family’s resident powerhouse. A son was certainly more important than a grandson, and direct descendants were more valued than collateral branches.

With such distinctions, the committee itself splintered into numerous circles, both large and small—only within these circles did true equality exist.

Of course, outwardly, these students carried themselves with pride, looking down on the ordinary students. They believed their starting point was superior, their future achievements destined to surpass those of their peers. There was no need, in their eyes, to mingle with the common crowd.

On this day, in the quiet room of the Student Self-Governance Committee, a young girl sat at the table. Freshly brewed tea and pastries lay before her, yet she had no desire to touch them.

The girl was about one meter sixty, with a delicate, refined appearance. Her long black hair draped over her shoulders, and she wore a deep blue dress. Its hem fell low, covering her calves, revealing only white stockings and red leather shoes.

In front of her sat a man, appearing around twenty years old, clean-shaven, dressed in an old-fashioned style. Sitting there, he gave the impression of a mountain looming tall and steadfast.

They gazed at each other for some time before the man finally spoke. His voice was not loud, but it rumbled like boulders tumbling down a mountain, echoing endlessly.

“If I recall correctly, you’re Ying Yuan from the ‘Grass’ branch, Ah Jian’s third daughter.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” the girl replied softly.

“Have you seen this?” The man waved his hand, and a light screen appeared before Ying Yuan.

Displayed upon it, of course, was the task sheet issued by Liu Zong. Every detail was laid out clearly, including requirements for participants’ abilities and the stipulation that they must obey commands.

Ying Yuan nodded lightly. “I’ve read it all.”

“Good. I won’t say much else. Our Yuan family spent a hefty sum to secure this assignment. The original plan was to select Ah Wei’s fourth daughter—she’s older, prettier, stronger, and her abilities are superior.

But I chose you. Do you know why?”

Ying Yuan shook her head. “I don’t.”

The man glanced at her. “It’s because your temperament is milder. Unlike the others, you don’t carry yourself with arrogance or disregard ordinary players. You all believe you come from great families, but you don’t realize your grandfather was once an ordinary person, who climbed step by step to Level 3.

If Ah Wei’s fourth daughter were to approach this person, conflict would inevitably arise. If it merely caused the mission to fail, that would be tolerable, but if it offended him, even killing her wouldn’t make up for it.”

As he spoke, a sharp light flashed in the man’s eyes—a warning that Ying Yuan clearly understood. She lowered her gaze, not daring to meet his eyes.

Satisfied with her attitude, the man continued, “Your circumstances are different. Though you’re part of this so-called Student Self-Governance Committee, you’ve never clashed with ordinary people, and you even have a few ordinary players as friends. That’s commendable.

When you approach this person, first obey his commands, then strive to present yourself well. My expectations are modest: become his friend.

Can you do this?”

Ying Yuan kept her head bowed, but answered with certainty, “Yes, Grandfather.”

“Good. During the mission’s downtime, take the opportunity to converse with him. If you can become his girlfriend, even better. Should you choose otherwise, I won’t blame you, but remember—he is currently the best option. I’ve lived nearly a millennium, rising from an ordinary man to my current status, and it is my discerning eye that brought me here.”

Hearing this, a rare look of surprise appeared on Ying Yuan’s otherwise calm face. After a moment’s thought, she asked, “Grandfather, may I know why you regard this person so highly?”

“Because he already has his own name,” the man replied casually. “But keep this quiet. I’ve checked—he’s had his own name for nearly a year, yet still attends school here. Clearly, he doesn’t wish for too many people to know his affairs. Seize the opportunity.”

“Understood.” Ying Yuan nodded gently.

Seeing her obedient response, the man was pleased. He thought for a moment and said, “By the way, this is for you—a safeguard in critical moments.”

With that, he placed a card on the table.

Ying Yuan glanced at him, then carefully picked up the card to inspect it. The card depicted a towering mountain, its sides sheer as if cleaved by a blade, perilous and forbidding.

“This is my skill. I’ve only just mastered it and haven’t named it yet, so it remains nameless. Keep it by your side; if you encounter danger, pour all your mana into it. As for the final effect, honestly, I’m not sure myself.”

Faced with such an attitude, Ying Yuan was at a loss for words, but she kept her thoughts to herself and carefully stowed the card away.

With the matter settled, the man nodded in satisfaction. “Accept the task and wait for the appointed time. I have other business and will take my leave.”

He stood up and strode out, paying Ying Yuan no further heed.

As he departed, Ying Yuan felt as if a mountain rolled past her, the ground trembling endlessly until he vanished from Yang City Third High School, and the tremors ceased entirely.

Watching the direction in which he left, Ying Yuan rose, waved her hand, and the tea and pastries disappeared from the table. The gentle expression she had worn transformed into one of resolute determination.

At the same time, a hint of playful amusement flickered at the corner of her lips.