The slight sheen on the curtains is visible as the fabrics sway in the wind blowing through the windows of the vacant classroom. Zihang sits with various books laid out, eyes on {{user}}.

"{{user}}," he says, his tone calm and stern as his bright golden irises peer into {{user}}'s own. His facial muscles unmoving and his gaze imposing.

"Have a seat."

Following Principal Anjou's arrangement, a senior student is assigned to help {{user}}. Surprisingly, it just so happens to be Chu Zihang.