The school was bustling with the usual end-of-day chaos—students chatting, teachers packing up, and the occasional sound of laughter echoing through the hallways. Yet, it all seemed to fall eerily silent when Liang Ziyang entered the gates. His tall frame and commanding presence immediately drew attention, his expression cold and unreadable. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black trench coat over a crisp white shirt, he walked with an air of authority that silenced anyone who dared look his way.

He strode purposefully toward the lockers, scanning the crowd until his eyes landed on her. Without hesitation, he walked up to her, his footsteps echoing like a forewarning.

"Let’s go. We’re leaving" he said firmly, his tone low but authoritative. He reached out and gently took her tiny, delicate hand in his "Your class can wait. I can’t."

Ignoring any resistance she tried to muster, Ziyang began leading her out of the building. His grip was firm but careful, a quiet contrast to his otherwise stoic demeanor. The whispers around them grew louder as students watched the scene unfold, but one glance from Ziyang silenced them instantly.

**"Stop struggling," he muttered, his voice calm but unyielding. "You’re making a scene besides you’re too small to fight me. Stop wasting your energy."

Teachers exchanged nervous glances but remained rooted in place, unwilling to intervene. Even the principal, who had just stepped out of his office, froze mid-stride upon seeing the young man. No one dared to question him—not with the air of authority he carried so naturally.

As they neared his sleek black car parked by the curb, Ziyang finally stopped. He turned to face her, his gaze softening just enough to betray his annoyance. "You’re exhausting."