Chapter 8: Never Judge a Book by Its Cover

The maglev train had arrived at Federal University Station. Since boarding, Sang Fuying hadn’t found a seat; her arm gripped the handrail, conveniently blocking the person standing behind her.

“Excuse me,” she said, withdrawing her hand as she followed the crowd off the train.

Unnoticed by her, the young man behind her studied her wrist with piercing peacock-green eyes.

When the train had jolted earlier, her fair, slender wrist had brushed past his nose multiple times. Even in the crowded carriage, the faint scent emanating from her wrist was subtle yet distinct.

He tried to capture that fragrance, but only a fleeting wisp reached him before vanishing or being masked.

Sang Fuying entered the gates of Federal University. Like many interstellar universities, this one was divided into several colleges. When she scanned her face for entry, she discovered that her uncle-in-law had used his influence to get her into the Aviation College.

Was he planning for her to become a pilot of a warship?

Following the map displayed on the floating screen of her brain-band, she headed toward the destination Zhou Ying had sent her. So absorbed was she that she failed to notice the young man wearing a black baseball cap and mask who had been trailing her the entire way.

As they stepped onto the elevator, a long, bony hand pressed the button for the 35th floor first.

Only the two of them were inside: herself and the tall figure with his face obscured by the cap and mask—the same person who had stood behind her on the train.

This time, Sang Fuying quietly glanced at him from behind.

She meant no offense; it was just that his aura was exceptionally striking. He was also a student, dressed in the same black-and-green school uniform as hers. The male-tailored suit fit him like an international supermodel’s attire. If she were to describe his temperament, it was an elegant nobility tinged with an overbearing pride.

What made her feel a bit inferior was that she didn’t even reach his shoulder in height.

Zhou Ying’s office was at N3509, the door ajar. Sang Fuying and the young man from the elevator both entered, seemingly by mutual unspoken agreement.

They exchanged a look, as if saying, “What a coincidence—you’re here too?”

Beneath the baseball cap, the young man’s eyes were exceptionally beautiful. Their slight upward tilt was not seductive but cold and proud, a pair of peacock-green irises shimmering like glass immersed in ice and snow, clear and dazzling.

Sang Fuying thought that with such stunning eyes, the face hidden beneath the mask couldn’t be unattractive.

“Do you two know each other?” came a deep, magnetic voice from inside the office.

Behind the desk sat a young man in a white shirt, buttoned up to the collar.

The man had short mint-blue hair, pale skin, and exquisitely chiseled features, as though sculpted by a master modeler. A pair of silver-rimmed glasses perched on his high nose bridge, and a small red mole on the tip added a hint of allure to his face.

At that moment, Sang Fuying’s mind wrestled between the images of a refined scoundrel and an unattainable beauty.

“Hello, Teacher Zhou. I’m here to pick up my textbook,” the young man spoke first, his voice as pure and crisp as snow pressing against pine.

“Me too,” Sang Fuying added.

The young man removed his cap and mask, revealing a face that left Sang Fuying even more awestruck.

He was far more handsome than she had imagined. Seventeen or eighteen years old, with golden hair, clean features, and a refined, radiant aura—like a rare spirit of the world, or a divine youth from ancient Greek mythology.

“Lord Lestelin has come to school after all,” Zhou Ying’s lips curved slightly. His gaze then shifted to Sang Fuying. “And the young lady from Admiral Sang Yao’s family.”

The amazement in Sang Fuying’s eyes slowly gave way to shock.

He claimed to be Moer, yet Zhou Ying called him Lord Lestelin. So this was the notorious figure with a maximum danger rating of ten stars?

Judging by appearance alone, who would suspect such a pure and harmless-looking blond to be a terrifying killer?

And when others on the train discussed him, he had been right there all along?

This heir to one of the top aristocratic families attending school alone on the maglev train?

Zhou Ying pushed two books on the desk toward them. “Your names are marked on them. Take your own.”

Sang Fuying took her textbook, marveling at how novel the interstellar textbooks were—like volumes from a magical realm, each page containing a different lesson and able to project a floating holographic screen of adjustable size at a touch.

Zhou Ying briefly glanced at the young lady beside Moer.

This niece of Sang Yao was astonishingly beautiful. Though supposedly a defective female, her appearance could make countless noble and high-ranking women feel ashamed.

Her thick, silky black hair fell loosely, with several strands resting in the hollow of her neck like smooth satin. Her black-and-white eyes were so pure they seemed to glisten with moisture. Her delicate fingers, holding the book, bore a faint pink flush like cherry blossom petals at the tips.

Even the uniform she wore, despite being standard issue, seemed exceptionally distinctive on her.

The male, regarded as a public enemy by all the males on campus, looked like a chivalrous guardian beside her.

The pairing of such talent and beauty was undeniably striking.

“Do you know where our college holds classes?” Zhou Ying asked.

“Yes, no need to trouble you, Teacher Zhou. If Sang doesn’t know the way, I’ll accompany her,” Moer replied.

Sang Fuying followed Moer out of the office, one after the other.

She glanced up at him several times, silently affirming: appearances can be deceiving indeed.

When they entered the holographic projection classroom together, the once lively room instantly fell silent.

Nearly all the students were present, with males accounting for ninety-nine percent and Sang Fuying being the sole female.

Typically, females at Federal University enrolled in either the Arts or Literature colleges. It was unprecedented for a female to attend such a science and engineering program.

Moreover, she was stunningly beautiful, slender and delicate, looking like a greenhouse flower. Why would she come to the Aviation College, where they not only learned to pilot warships but also studied various aviation-related subjects?

The handsome female drew the delight of many males, but the moment the male beside her was noticed, their joy turned sour.

Without him, the classroom was a battleground of competing talents; with him present, they became merely a control group.

No one at Federal University was universally outstanding—except this Lord Lestelin.

With Moer beside her, none of the other males dared to approach Sang Fuying.

She chose a relatively secluded corner to sit, her good eyesight allowing her to clearly see the central projection.

Soon, a book appeared on the seat next to her. A long, slender hand rested on it, marked by a clear and neat bite wound on the webbing between thumb and forefinger, as if freshly bitten not long ago.