Chapter 12

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Chapter 12: Meat

As spring approached in late March, the breeze had started to carry a hint of warmth. After the rain, the sun felt even more intense.

Although the weather was still on the chilly side, there were already some strong, well-built guys out on the field sweating in short sleeves, brimming with youthful energy. In stark contrast, many of their classmates were still wrapped up in their winter coats—it was as if they weren’t even living in the same season.

If it weren’t against school rules, some of the more body-confident boys might have taken off their shirts to show off their hard-earned abs.

Their goal was simple: attract the attention of the girls.

They were out there on the field flexing their muscles with everything they had. Every pitch, every throw, was more precise and exaggerated than usual.

After all, there were indeed some pretty girls watching them—covering their mouths with bashful smiles, making fleeting eye contact, then shyly looking away, whispering things that would make your heart itch to the girlfriends beside them.

“Look at that idiot. Dressed like that in this cold? What a tool. He really thinks he’s hot stuff.”

“Pfft, he missed that shot? Even I could’ve made that!”

That… was what the girls were actually saying.

Unfortunately for the guys, no matter how hard they tried or how defined their muscles were, most people still put looks before their body.

Even if their physique was enough to make some girls drool, if their face didn’t meet the standard, none of it really mattered.

Society might preach not to judge by appearances, but that hardly changed anyone’s actual behavior—not even those who weren’t good-looking themselves.

Compared to those muscle-showing jocks, most of the attention remained on Yiwen over the tennis court.

He was only 1.7 meters tall. His arms and legs were thin, and he looked downright delicate. He didn’t have a masculine face by any standard.

But that smile—was just so sweet!

Like a little angel, with sparkles and a soft jasmine scent in his hair—he looked like he’d stepped out of a two-dimensional anime world.

Who wouldn’t fall for a boy like that?

Bodies can be trained, but a good face is simply a good face. And that body matched the face just right.

“Your grip’s wrong. For beginners, it’s best to align the base of the thumb here… And when you swing, you have to follow through. Stopping your hand as soon as you hit the ball throws off your direction.”

Yiwen was gently teaching Mi Xiaoliu the correct forehand swing, hand over hand.

So close, Mi Xiaoliu could clearly smell the jasmine fragrance from his hair.

Countless girls would’ve killed to be in her place, learning tennis from Yiwen personally.

Well… maybe not entirely invisible. That C-cup on her chest was pretty noticeable.

“Master, he touched your hand!” Sasha shrieked inside Mi Xiaoliu’s mind like she had just been violated.

“Feeling interested in tennis yet?” Yiwen asked.

Mi Xiaoliu didn’t answer—she wasn’t sure how to define this so-called “interest.”

After her first serve, she silently picked up another ball and stuffed it into the triangular gap at the throat of her racquet.

It fit perfectly. Mood +1.

“Tennis is actually a great way to vent feelings,” Yiwen said with an awkward scratch to her cheek.

Unlike badminton, where everything felt featherlight, tennis racquets and balls gave a real sense of impact when they connected—a satisfying way to release tension.

The only downside: picking up the balls afterward was a pain.

Trying to use after-school time to lure her into the “tennis trap”… seemed to have failed.

After returning the equipment, Yiwen walked home with Mi Xiaoliu under the excuse that it was “on the way.”

“Mi Xiaoliu, is it because you’re afraid of pain that you refused to donate blood? Or… is there another reason?”

Mi Xiaoliu stopped, bent down, rummaged through her tote bag full of books, and pulled out a 100 yuan bill to hand her.

“…”

Yiwen accepted the bill, realizing he clearly didn’t want to answer the question.

She’d been the one talking all this time—he barely responded. Anyone else would’ve given up by now.

Aside from a short detour to buy buns from an old granny, he hadn’t made a single move all the way back.

Someone this “cool and distant” might be popular in anime, but in real life, they just ended up alone. Unless someone had ulterior motives, no one liked to keep throwing themselves at a cold wall.

His only real resemblance to an average high school student was probably that morning nap with Yiwen at their desks.

Old Gao saw it, but didn’t say anything.

“If you ever do want to donate blood, just go straight to the hospital. I mean, you don’t have to do it at our school,” Yiwen said, looking at her face for any reaction. She got nothing.

She casually mimicked Conan’s “ara-ree” tone and brought it up offhandedly:

“About thirty percent of our school’s students are self-healers. Even half of this semester’s transfer students are too. Weird, right? That’s kind of a high number for self-healing types…”

But it didn’t seem like Mi Xiaoliu was listening.

When she turned to look at her again, she had crouched down in front of a cardboard box at some point, staring curiously at what was inside.

Inside the box was a small black-and-white kitten, quietly curled up.

It had unusual coloring: black ears, black paws, and two perfectly symmetrical black eye-rings, just like a panda.

The rest was pure white.

Didn’t look dyed. No idea why someone would abandon such a uniquely patterned cat. It would’ve gone viral online in no time.

The box was dry—someone must have deliberately picked a sunlit spot to place it there earlier today.

The kitten wasn’t scared of people either. When it saw someone approaching, it looked up and meowed at Mi Xiaoliu, scratching at the cardboard with its tiny front paws.

“So pitiful. Looks like just a few months old,” Yiwen crouched down too.

“It’s a girl.”

“She’s so excited. She wants to come home with me!”

“Too bad I can’t keep pets at home. Do you want to adopt her, Mi Xiaoliu?” Yiwen turned to ask.

“Meat.” Mi Xiaoliu calmly said.

“???” Yiwen blinked.

“Master, I really don’t think you should eat this one!”

Sasha urgently tried to stop her.

But Mi Xiaoliu still picked up the whole box—kitten and all—and carried it away.

No matter how many times Yiwen said “You can’t eat the kitty!” she never replied.

It was hard not to worry about that poor kitten’s fate.

Yiwen stood at the base of her apartment building, watching her carry the cat upstairs, dazed.

“You can’t eat the kitty…”

That “meat” comment earlier—she was joking, right?

—

“You’re awfully concerned about that classmate. Don’t tell me… you’re falling for him?”

A teasing voice snapped her back to reality.

“You do realize your house is in the other direction, right? You’ve already left the school gates—you’re not even on the same route as him.”

It was the blonde girl with glasses who sat in the protagonist seat in their class.

“I got lost, okay? I just wanted to see if he might be the killer in that spatial murder case,” Yiwen turned around expressionlessly. “Even I, like this, still have a thing for hot guys.”

“So, did you get any leads?”

“No.”

She hadn’t brought up anything related to that case around Mi Xiaoliu today.

There hadn’t been a natural way to bring it up. She couldn’t just blurt out, “Hey Mi Xiaoliu, are you the killer?” right?

In the end, it was just his own hunch—without much evidence.

“Aren’t you curious that I was following you?”

“I have girls following me around every day,” Yiwen replied with a sly smile.

“But one who knows I’m a girl and still stalks me? That’s only you. So… what exactly are you after?”

“…Not saying it’s impossible.”

The blonde girl pulled out her phone and held it up to Yiwen.

On the screen was a news clip from a murder scene.

“Officer, about this case—”

“No comment.”

“The public has a right to know! Is this incident related to last week’s murder?”

“Move along, move along!”

The police’s rude behavior was caught on tape, while footage of the reporters crossing the restricted area was edited out.

“Another murder in the city, yet the police respond with hostility. Public trust in law enforcement is rapidly deteriorating…”

Yiwen narrowed her eyes as she watched.

Sensing something was off, the blonde girl quickly stashed her phone and changed the topic:

“We’re headed in the same direction—want to walk together?”

Otherwise, Yiwen would probably get lost again.

“No thanks. I’m heading to the station to help out.” Yiwen waved her off.