Chapter 70
Chapter 70
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 70 – How Could Lan Qi Possibly Have Bad Intentions?2024-05-22 — Author: Poor Xixi
Bewilderment spread through the painting classroom like tangled vines, creeping into every corner and smothering the once lively atmosphere into silence.
All eyes turned toward a single target—Lan Qi.
It was as if everyone hoped to find some kind of explanation in his naturally innocent expression.
But—
His face was like a painting more cryptic than any in the professor’s hands, unfathomable to all who looked.
Four consecutive instant answers, each as sharp and sudden as lightning, striking directly at the correct choice.
It was impossible to dismiss them as mere coincidence. No demon dared to suspect anymore that Lan Qi had simply gotten lucky.
Even if they couldn’t understand what kind of strange magic this radiant demon had used, it was undeniable that he was analyzing the answers with impossible precision and speed…
“……”
The Hawk-Eyed Demon sat there, Lan Qi’s casual hints echoing in his mind, pulling him into spirals of frustrated thought.
He told himself it was only natural for Lan Qi to want revenge.
Perhaps Lan Qi had deliberately given correct answers a few times, only to feed him a false one when it mattered most, in order to mislead him!
But then again—
Maybe Lan Qi had anticipated that the Hawk-Eyed Demon would suspect such a trap, and so he gave the real answer anyway, to lure him into second-guessing himself!
The more he analyzed, the deeper he sank, until at last he could no longer tell what level Lan Qi’s schemes might be on. Doubt gnawed at him: perhaps Lan Qi’s true aim was nothing more than to break his state of mind.
Finally, after racking his brain, the Hawk-Eyed Demon’s lips curled slowly into a smirk, as if he had uncovered the truth.
“You’re clever… but you’ve overlooked one thing.”
His sharp gaze locked onto Lan Qi like a detective cornering a suspect.
As a specialist in mental magic, he could clearly perceive the spiritual fluctuations of other demons.
And when Lan Qi had given him the answer earlier—his thoughts hadn’t rippled at all.
His tone had been too calm, his gaze too pure.
In the Demon Realm, there was absolutely no way a demon could tell an enemy the correct answer with such sincerity and without a single trace of ill intent!
This, then, was the one flaw in Lan Qi’s trap: the radiant demon must have been harboring malice when he spoke—so it could only have been a lie.
“It was painted by a student.”
The Hawk-Eyed Demon rejected Lan Qi’s answer with unshakable certainty, his voice resounding through the silent classroom.
He even sneered sidelong at Lan Qi, as though mocking him: Nice try, but your petty trick failed and only helped me instead!
“……”
Professor Mogut said nothing, only shook his head.
“Wrong. This was painted by me.”
His tone carried a faint edge of displeasure.
Lan Qi looked at the Hawk-Eyed Demon with genuine regret, as though staring at a fool.
“I told you the right answer. Why wouldn’t you believe me…”
He looked so guileless, so sincerely helpful, as if he hadn’t the slightest ill intention.
“……”
Beside him, Huperion stared intently at Lan Qi’s face. She knew he had spoken the truth. Unfortunately, the Hawk-Eyed Demon had chosen not to believe.
The more she thought about it, the more it felt like the Hawk-Eyed Demon had been toyed with in passing.
Because whether he believed Lan Qi or not, the very act of Lan Qi “helping” had completely unsettled him. Without realizing it, he had shifted all his focus away from the paintings—and onto Lan Qi himself.
“Something wrong?”
Lan Qi seemed to notice Huperion’s gaze, tilting his head toward her with a smile as clear as spring water.
“…Nothing.”
She didn’t ask further.
Because even if she did, Lan Qi would only answer with the same innocent lines: “I don’t know.”“He’s just overthinking it.”“How could I possibly want to hurt a classmate?”
His natural innocence and quiet darkness had already merged into one, leaving her unable to tell whether he was truly being kind or subtly cruel. He was beginning to embody a paradoxical duality…
…
On the right side of the classroom, silence grew suffocating.
“Ahhh…”
The Hawk-Eyed Demon’s face twisted with fear, his eyes reflecting the shifting light and shadow behind Lan Qi—warped as if a monstrous visage lurked in the dark.
His once sharp expression contorted into bitterness and despair.
Staring at the approaching professor, the hawk-like eyes that had once brimmed with confidence now sank into bottomless hopelessness.
Even now, he couldn’t comprehend why this radiant demon could display “kindness”—a thing alien to demonkind—with such flawless purity.
Professor Mogut’s steps were steady and heavy, each one tolling like a funeral bell against the Hawk-Eyed Demon’s heart.
Finally, Mogut’s hand pressed down upon his head.
The demon’s skin shriveled, his blood evaporated, muscles withered, until he was nothing but a desiccated corpse. The light faded from his eyes, leaving behind only an eternal mask of fear and despair.
“I’ll go store his body. Next will be the free-answer segment.”
Before lifting the next painting, Professor Mogut cast a long, deep look at Lan Qi.
He felt this class might no longer be the same.
For the others, it was difficulty level 3.
For Lan Qi, it seemed more like negative 3.
…
An hour later.
The mellow tolling of the bell echoed through the walls, filling every corner of the classroom.
Professor Mogut stood at the end of the round table, frowning, his eyes full of doubt.
Painting after painting he had changed, trying to increase the difficulty, to challenge Lan Qi’s powers of discernment.
But not once—not once—had Lan Qi shown the slightest sign of struggle.
The professor even began to reflect: since when had it turned into him challenging his own student?
What was certain was that when Lan Qi judged the paintings, the meager magic he carried didn’t stir in the slightest. He relied only on his eyes, carefully observing every detail.
Unimaginable. Why was there such a student in this school—one whose mastery of artistic discernment seemed as though a god of art had possessed him?
“Just who… are you?”
Professor Mogut stared at Lan Qi, shaken to the core.
In his eyes now, Lan Qi was no longer a mere student, but an unfathomable master of the arts.
He even wondered: if a brush were handed to this radiant demon, what level of painting could he produce himself?
“Well then, Professor, could you first tell me what the reward is for scoring 263 points?”
Lan Qi leaned against his chair, resting his cheek on the back of his hand, smiling with serene ease.