Chapter 362

Chapter 362

◎For Your Own Good◎

Although the scores from the mock exam weren’t definitive, they still held some reference value for the final college entrance exam results. As per their school’s tradition, after the mock exam, homeroom teachers would hold individual meetings with students’ parents.

For students who still had a chance to push through the final sprint, parents were urged to cooperate fully—whether financially or otherwise—to make the most of the less than two months left.

For those unlikely to make it into university, parents were given advance notice to plan ahead—whether it was community college, trade school, or learning a trade—so their child would have a path forward.

The issue this time arose during one of these private parent-teacher meetings.

While classes were in session, a heated argument broke out in the teachers’ office. In the quiet environment, the shouting stood out starkly, instantly rousing drowsy students as gossip dispelled their sleepiness. Eyes widened as they tried to locate the source of the commotion outside the classroom.

In the office, the homeroom teacher of Science Class 5 tried to mediate between the mother and daughter in front of her: “Let’s talk this through calmly. Arguing won’t solve anything. Li Xiang’s grades are quite stable, but they’re not a foolproof insurance for her dream university. There’s still time to push harder in these final months. Parents shouldn’t put too much pressure on their child either.”

After addressing Li Xiang’s mother, the teacher turned to Li Xiang: “Go back to class first. I’ll talk with your mom a bit more.”

Li Xiang stood by the door, staring at her mother’s furrowed brows and the frustration etched on her face. Unable to hold back, she asked, “Why can’t I decide my own future? It’s *my* future. Why can’t I choose what I like?”

Her mother snapped, “What you like? How long will that last? Don’t you see how hard I’ve worked for you all these years? What’s wrong with studying medicine? Your father’s a doctor, your uncles are doctors, your grandparents were doctors—our whole family is in medicine. Once you graduate, you won’t even have to worry about jobs or internships. Yes, studying medicine is tough, but what isn’t these days? Even delivery drivers endure early mornings, late nights, wind, and sun. The job market is terrible. If you don’t take the path we’ve paved for you, what else do you plan to do?”

Li Xiang cried, “I just want to choose what I love! I don’t like medicine. I don’t want to be a doctor. I can’t handle holding a scalpel and deciding someone’s life or death—is that so wrong?”

Her mother couldn’t even bear to look at her anymore. In her eyes, her daughter was too young to understand long-term planning. A little hardship now would be worth it once she succeeded later.

The teacher stepped between them. “Regarding future career choices, this is something you can discuss further. Interest is the greatest motivator for learning. If Li Xiang has something she’s truly passionate about, perhaps parents could consider her opinion.”

Li Xiang’s mother scoffed. “What does she know at her age? We’ve laid out a smooth path for her—isn’t a stable life good enough? Being a doctor is steady work for a girl. She doesn’t need to be some brilliant surgeon; just stay comfortable in the hospital and avoid mistakes.”

Li Xiang retorted, “Is the hospital a place where ‘not making mistakes’ is enough? What do you think a hospital is? What do you think doctors are? Some kind of job-for-life? You don’t even understand this profession yourself—how can you make choices for me about something you don’t get?”

Her mother, furious, shot back, “The whole family are doctors—why are you the only exception? If you won’t be a doctor, what *will* you do? I’m your mother—of course I understand! Or do you think *you* know everything? Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a job now? Do you know what graduating into unemployment means? We can’t support you forever. Is it wrong for us to secure a stable future for you?”

As the two began arguing again, the teacher raised her hands to intervene.

Li Xiang was done fighting. She’d argued with her family countless times over this so-called “future.” The entire family wanted her to be a doctor, believing their connections would make her path smoother.

But she loved liberal arts. She didn’t want to be tied down to one place. She wanted to be a journalist, to see the world, to love camera work, to report the truth. But her family dismissed it as a phase, insisting she didn’t understand the hardships of journalism, that it was dangerous, that they had no connections in the field to help her later.

They’d already argued when choosing between humanities and STEM in high school. She wanted liberal arts; the whole family demanded sciences. Her grandfather nearly had a heart attack from anger, and she’d been forced to compromise.

Now, with her college entrance exam scores, her family wanted her to aim for med school—requiring at least 680 points to be safe. But she only had 650. A 30-point difference wasn’t easy to close.

And yet, her teacher still said she was smart—just too distracted, unable to settle down.

Of course she was distracted. She was being forced to study something she hated. Since childhood, she’d only been allowed what they gave her—clothes in colors they approved, no being picky with food, no “fast food” like fried chicken or soda, only “healthy” meals at home.

She’d never had a birthday cake because cream was a “hard to digest.” She drank milk tea in secret, hid novels at friends’ houses, wasn’t allowed phone passwords, had to hand over her phone during homework, and let her family check her browsing and chat histories.

Her only extracurricular reading was English originals. Their shelves were packed with medical textbooks—dry, dull, and mind-numbing.

She’d never had toys. As a child, she played with anatomy models and skeleton puzzles. No watching TV during meals, and the only shows allowed were medical shows and documentaries.

Worn out, Li Xiang looked at her mother. “Do I really have *no* say in my own future?”

Her mother was done arguing. “Talk to me about having a say *after* you graduate from college.”

She wasn’t even eighteen yet—what does she know? As if her parents would ever harm her.

Li Xiang scoffed. College graduation? Life's only a few decades long. She'd be ancient by med school graduation—then what? They'd probably start pressuring her to get married and have kids the moment she graduated. She could already see the future waiting for her if she gave in now.

Li Xiang: "This 'for your own good' crap is seriously disgusting. I'm my own person, not yours to control just because you gave birth to me. If I can't choose my own future, then I don't want one at all. How about that?"

The teacher knew this was bad news, but no matter how fast he reacted, he couldn't stop Li Xiang from bolting out the door.

Without a second thought, Li Xiang ran out, climbed over the railing, and jumped.

Her mother screamed in horror as her legs buckled and she collapsed to the floor. The homeroom teacher nearly had a heart attack.

Other teachers in the office rushed over in panic. Students in nearby classrooms who saw what happened screamed too, and all hell broke loose.

Ji Nanxing's class was in the first-year section, separated from the incident by a long corridor. Even from that distance, they could hear the sudden commotion. The teacher frowned, told the class monitor to keep order, and went to check what the loud noise was about.

As soon as the teacher left, students stretched, snacked, or whipped out their phones to game—until someone gasped, "No way! Someone jumped!"

Shocked, some students couldn't resist running out to see what happened.

Xiao Ye, mid-stretch, froze and turned to Ji Nanxing.

Ji Nanxing stayed calm, took a sip from his water bottle, and said, "It's nothing major."

Earlier that day, he had noticed hints of evil energy clinging to the safety net below. The only way that spot would reek of evil energy was if someone had jumped—or was going to.

After Xiao Ye coordinated with the school to replace the net, Ji Nanxing checked again. The evil energy was gone, the danger eliminated. Even if something happened now, it wouldn’t be fatal, so there was no need to intervene further.

Xiao Ye let out a relieved breath. "That’s good."

Ji Nanxing nodded. "As long as it's secured properly."

Zhang Yuan, sitting behind them, overheard and asked, "What’s going on? Did you know this would happen, Nanxing?"

"Not really," Ji Nanxing replied. "Some dangerous spots show warning signs first."

But not every crisis could be avoided. In this case, replacing the safety net prevented a tragedy—something within their control.

Intersections, though, were tougher to handle. No way to know when an accident might strike. You couldn’t close down a whole road forever just because it might be dangerous. Unless the evil energy was overwhelming, signaling a major disaster, he’d report it to the Management Bureau for action.

The noise outside grew louder, but nosy students got rounded up by teachers. Their bodies were back in class, but their minds weren’t.

The class group chat blew up with texts. High schoolers had mastered the art of typing without looking at their screens.

Unlike his sneaky classmates, Ji Nanxing openly checked his smartwatch for updates.

Turns out, a girl from Class 5 had jumped but was caught by the safety net. She was fine but still taken to the hospital. Someone even shared a photo—a girl’s mom being held up by two teachers. After seeing her daughter jump, even without serious injury, she was too scared to stand.

When class finally ended, the room exploded like monkeys freed from a mountain. Some gossiped, others rushed out, and soon, class gossip Dong Qi returned with the full story.

"The jumper was a girl from Class 5. Her mom came today to talk about college applications. The family wanted a school and major that required higher scores than she had, and she hated their choices. They argued, and she jumped in the heat of the moment."

Zhang Yuan added, "It might not have been just a spur-of-the-moment thing. Years of built-up resentment can do that. Some adults always act under the guise of 'for your own good,' making decisions they think are best without caring what the kid wants."

Not all parents were wrong, but those who completely ignored their child’s wishes were definitely in the wrong.

As everyone kept discussing, Ji Nanxing pulled up Li Xiang’s ID photo. Unfiltered, it told him more, even if slightly outdated.

Xiao Ye glanced over. "So that’s her. Is this over now?"

"Basically," Ji Nanxing replied. "She’s not meant to die young."

Even without reinforcing the safety net, this likely wouldn’t have been fatal. But this jump might be the wake-up call her family needed. That’s why Ji Nanxing had only fixed the hazard earlier—he hadn’t tried to find potential victims in the school.

If she hadn’t jumped, the girl might’ve been pushed to breaking point eventually. Then, there truly would’ve been no coming back.