Holding the principal's approved pass, I went to the archives. After entering, I politely greeted the teacher, "Hello, teacher."

"It's the student from before, what can I do for you?" The teacher was operating the computer at the moment. When she heard someone calling her, she looked up at me and asked.

"Before, I wanted to check the files of the first-grade students."

"Oh, I remember now," the teacher suddenly realized. It had only been a few days, and yet she had already forgotten. "I recall saying that you must have a proof of authorization stamped by the principal to enter the archives and access the information."

"You said it correctly."

"Then, did you get the authorization stamped by the principal?"

"I got it. It's right here." I handed over the note that had already been dampened by the sweat in my palms. It was a bit precious, so I had been careful with it. I was worried that the teacher wouldn't let me pass. After all, getting the principal's seal wasn't easy. Even though the principal seemed approachable, her sly smile might hide some dreadful transactions. Of course, it could also be a personal habit, which would be the best-case scenario.

"I did receive the authorization stamped by the principal, so you may enter."

"Oh, thank you, teacher," I felt overjoyed. Now I could move onto the first step of my plan and gather information about the person I was interested in.

I couldn't wait to step inside, but the teacher reminded me with a rigorous tone, "For student files, the first three file cabinets over there are for the first grade. If you're looking for the 20th class, it's in the last one."

"Oh, thank you, teacher. I understand."

"Don't go near the other file cabinets, let alone open them. Absolutely no peeking into their contents," the teacher made it very clear. This made me curious about what kind of secretive information was hidden in the other file cabinets. The more she emphasized it, the more I wanted to take a look. But before crossing that line, it was better to appear obedient.

"Oh, I got it," I said as I took a step into the important area. Then, I stepped with the other leg. As I stood in the important area, I thought that my actions earlier had been too cautious. There was no need to be so nervous. I persuaded myself to relax and imagine this place as a library. I had come here to read, after all.

With this mindset, I did feel more relaxed. I walked straight towards the third file cabinet the teacher mentioned. As I passed by the second file cabinet, I stole a curious glance inside. I hadn't even seen what was written on the files when the teacher reminded me, "You can't look at those." Her tone contained a hint of coldness, which gave me a shiver. I quickly turned my head away and looked at the third file cabinet.

When I saw her gaze returning to the computer, I wondered how she knew I was peeking at the other file cabinets. Did she spy on me when I wasn't paying attention?

When I raised my gaze, I suddenly realized there were surveillance cameras. The red light shining inside the camera resembled the eyes of a devil, staring at me and giving me goosebumps.

In order to leave this place quickly, I had to complete the task at hand. So, I focused on finding the student file I was looking for. I flipped through the files from the 20th to the 19th and 18th graduating classes, which I assumed were for the second and third grades. It was fortunate they were categorized; otherwise, it would have taken more than just a lunch break or even a semester to finish. Only I could come up with such a dumb plan, and I couldn't help feeling discouraged.

I shook my head to pull myself out of the negative emotions. This wasn't the time to think about that. I rallied myself and opened the file bags one by one. Opening the file bags was really troublesome, as they were tied with a cord that needed to be untied. It wasted a lot of time. If I could, I would tear it open like opening an envelope without hesitation.

The five-inch photos on the files were indeed beneficial to me. Without them, this dumb plan wouldn't have worked.

There were hundreds of first-grade students, so I patiently checked each one. I saw my own as well as Su Yuqian's and Zhiye's. However, I found something strange: other than Su Yuqian, there were no other students with blond hair. Of course, there were some files I hadn't finished looking through yet. Maybe having blond hair could be a condition to find the girl I was looking for. So, I roughly skimmed through the remaining files. Of course, I had some concerns. What if her blond hair was dyed? I couldn't rule that out. What if her five-inch photo was from before she dyed her hair? I was afraid to think about it. But I decided to trust my luck a bit. Personally, I believed my luck was decent, so I quickened my pace. I only looked at the photos.

Finally, good fortune smiles upon those who persevere. I finally found a girl who looks at least 90% similar to the one I've been searching for. This girl has a rosy complexion, unlike the pale and sunken appearance I've seen before. Is she the one I'm looking for? I'm not completely sure, but she does have blonde hair and a well-endowed chest. Wait a minute... I forgot, she does drugs.

After considering this crucial condition, I am certain that this girl is indeed the one I'm looking for. Now, let's check her class. I quickly scanned the list but couldn't find her class. All I found were some irrelevant information.

How should I proceed from here? This has put me in a dilemma. I thought it would be a good idea to ask the head teachers of each first-grade class about her. It seems like a desperate plan.

I ventured into the realm once again.

"Did you find her?" the teacher looked up and asked.

"Yes, I did." I was quite pleased with myself.

"Can I take this file with me?" I continued to ask.

"You can't." But my request was quickly denied.

"But if I don't take it with me, I won't be able to find this person," I tried to explain.

"This is a school rule, and I can't do anything about it," the teacher said resolutely. I knew there was no way I could take it out, so I looked at the file disappointedly, focusing on the name section.

"Annalise," I whispered softly. It's a name with a foreign touch. Wait a minute, I suddenly had an idea. I can use this name to ask the head teachers of each first-grade class.

I sighed at how slow my brain was working. Fortunately, the problem has been solved once again.

"Well, I'll put it back then," the teacher didn't say anything, so I put the file back into the folder and returned it to its original place. I silently read the name a few times and memorized it before thanking the teacher and leaving the archive room.