Chapter 125

Chapter 125: Eagle (Hawk) And Bear Save The Loser

During lunch break at school, Yiwen and Mi Xiaoliu were eating together in the back field.  

Yiwen reached over and brushed aside Mi Xiaoliu’s loser-style bangs, revealing her forehead. Without the fringe covering her face, her true looks could finally shine through.  

Honestly, even just a simple buzzcut would make Mi Xiaoliu look like a pretty-boy type—at the very least, not so bottom-tier.  

But those glasses really completed the nerdy vibe.  

Yiwen reached out to take off Mi Xiaoliu’s glasses but was met with resistance.  

She awkwardly pulled her hand back.  

It’s just glasses, not your little d*ck. Why so defensive?  

“Xiaoliu, want some juice?”  

Today, the juice Heli packed for Mi Xiaoliu had accidentally spilled, so every time Yiwen took a sip of her drink, Mi Xiaoliu would stare at her longingly.  

“Here.” Yiwen handed over her own half-finished juice box.  

It was a carton drink, and the straw still had teeth marks on it. Wiping it wouldn’t help.  

Mi Xiaoliu turned her head away, refusing to look at it.  

Sasha said eating someone else’s saliva will make you have babies.  

Yiwen was a little annoyed. “Fine, I’ll just buy another one then.”  

Only then did Mi Xiaoliu glance back at her, tugging lightly at her sleeve.  

Mi Xiaoliu had spent all her money on memory extraction, not even leaving spare change.  

“Nope.” This time, Yiwen shook her head. “Xiaoliu, you know I’m a girl now, right? As a boy, you can’t always let girls pay for you.”  

She blinked at Mi Xiaoliu—ten, maybe even nine parts adorable.  

Mi Xiaoliu clenched her fist and shook it twice in front of her—a rock-paper-scissors challenge.  

“Alright, fine.” Yiwen sighed and accepted.  

Mi Xiaoliu threw paper. Yiwen threw scissors.  

“I win.” Yiwen waved her hand triumphantly.  

Mi Xiaoliu shook her head, then folded Yiwen’s scissors into a rock with her fingers. “I win.”  

Yiwen: “…”  

Who taught you to be this sneaky?  

She decided to play dirty too, flopping onto the ground dramatically. “Ugh, I’m so tired. Maybe you should just carry me there.”  

“Okay.” Mi Xiaoliu slid one arm under Yiwen’s back and the other under her knees.  

Yiwen instinctively curled her legs slightly but didn’t resist.  

Then Mi Xiaoliu realized—while Yiwen was lighter than Gloria, she was still heavy.  

Remembering yesterday, she imitated the style of Lu Mingxue’s novel and uttered a single word:  

“Rise.”  

No heroic grandeur like in wuxia novels—just pure, concentrated disrespect.

So Yiwen:  

[Image: Yiwen looking utterly done with life.]

After that, she ignored Mi Xiaoliu for the rest of the day. During break, she even sneaked downstairs to weigh herself on one of those scanning body-composition scales.  

As she walked away, staring at the numbers on her phone with a frown, a blonde senior casually stepped onto the scale after her, pretending not to care.  

—  

After school, as usual, the two parted ways the moment they stepped outside. Their homes were in opposite directions—annoyingly unavoidable.  

Heli was usually too busy to pick up Mi Xiaoliu, so she had entrusted Gloria with the task, even handing over the keys to the electric scooter. 

Gloria wasn’t thrilled. If her motorcycle-riding bestie ever saw her puttering around on a dinky e-bike with a kid in the back, she’d never hear the end of it.  

But when under someone else’s roof, you bow your head. She still relied on Heli’s cooking at night—if she kept eating out, she’d gain another five pounds in no time.  

“Get on.” Gloria tossed Mi Xiaoliu’s backpack into the front basket and patted the scooter’s rear seat.  

Mi Xiaoliu looked reluctant but carefully climbed on, wrapping her arms around Gloria’s waist.  

Only to get a sharp knock on the head.  

Gloria glared at her.  

Confused, Mi Xiaoliu rubbed her head and tried again.  

Another smack.  

“Quit groping me, you little pervert!” Gloria rapped her knuckles against Mi Xiaoliu’s skull like a wooden fish drum.  

Mi Xiaoliu quickly withdrew her hands.  

—  

As they passed a narrow alley near the school gates, loud arguing echoed from inside—sounded like someone was getting harassed.  

Gloria glanced over. A group of delinquents smoking cigarettes had cornered some plain-looking guy with glasses. One of them even slapped him across the face.  

Gloria hit the brakes, grabbed Mi Xiaoliu’s backpack from the basket, and hurled it.  

It nailed the victim square in the head.  

Mi Xiaoliu: “??”  

“The hell’s going on here?” Gloria spat on the ground to cover up her whoops-wrong-target moment.  

Playing hero? Bullshit. If this had happened anywhere else, she wouldn’t have batted an eye. For all she knew, the guy being cornered had it coming—maybe he’d harassed someone’s little sister.  

Hell, back in the day, I’ve had guys jumped for messing with Misha.  

But pulling this crap right outside Meiqian Academy? No.  

Just like how students at regular schools gossip about which school brawls the most or which has the most ruthless fighters, it affects the school’s reputation.  

For normal schools, it just means fewer applicants. But for a supernatural academy? The Federal Education Bureau might just purge the entire faculty to clean house.  

And then she wouldn’t be able to skip class, smoke, or bully kids anymore… No way!  

[After summer break, she’d be a glorious college student anyway—at least let her enjoy her last month of freedom.]

The delinquents turned, ready to see who dared interfere—then bolted the second they recognized Gloria.  

Aside from out-of-town freshmen, everyone knew her. 

And no one messed with her.  

“Go get your bag.” Gloria nudged Mi Xiaoliu off the scooter.  

Mi Xiaoliu gave her a look.  

“What? It’s not my backpack.” Gloria raised an eyebrow.  

Mi Xiaoliu walked over, picked up the bag, and dusted it off. The alley floor was a minefield of ash, spit, and gum.  

Then she realized the victim was someone from her class—Zhang Zikun.  

Humiliated at being seen like this, he adjusted his glasses, trying to play it cool.  

In moments like these, the rescued don’t always feel gratitude first. Sometimes, they just want to vanish into the nearest wall—probably some male pride thing.  

Mi Xiaoliu reached out to help him up. 

“Hey brat, how much longer are you gonna drag this out? I’m counting to three.” Gloria began Mi Xiaoliu’s death countdown.  

Mi Xiaoliu immediately scrambled back onto the scooter and instinctively wrapped her arms around Gloria’s waist—  

—only to get another knock on the head.  

This time, she didn’t dare hold on.  

Gloria revved the scooter and took off without so much as a glance at the guy she’d “saved.” Not like she’d done it for him anyway.  

Zhang Zikun, left behind, actually sighed in relief as he dusted himself off.  

That moment when Mi Xiaoliu had reached out to help him? Yeah, that had made him want to crawl into a hole and die. Stupid male pride.  

“You alright?”  

A voice from behind—smooth, unsettling, the kind that made you instinctively distrust the speaker.  

Turning, he saw a white-haired young man holding a small camcorder pointed right at him. Only when their eyes met did the man lower the lens, replacing it with a warm smile.  

It was the kind of smile that felt like spring sunshine—the sort that reminded Zhang Zikun of his great-grandfather’s stories about the childhood anime he’d loved, Cardcaptor Sakura or whatever. 

That gentle, neighborly charm the female lead had swooned over.  

Instead of trampling on his already battered pride, it made him want to spill every last grievance bottled up inside.  

The only downside? That voice. That weird, Koyasu-esque cadence that made you wonder why no one had hired a different voice actor.  

“Hurt anywhere?” The man put away the camera and stepped closer, examining the swelling on Zhang Zikun’s face.  

From his pocket, he produced two items: “Fifty-fifty choice. Liniment or band-aid?”  

…Odd way to phrase it.  

“Liniment, I guess.” Zhang Zikun answered reflexively.  

The man bent down, pulling out a cotton swab to dab the medicine carefully along his cheek.  

Up close, Zhang Zikun noticed something strange—when the man blinked, his eyes didn’t close simultaneously. There was a barely perceptible delay, right lid then left, in a rhythm too natural to be faked.  

Outside the alley, an owl perched silently on a power line, tilting its head as it watched.  

—  

Author’s Note: Taking a day off  

As the title says—got some busy stuff at dawn, so hitting the sack early… Lunar birthday today (We go by the traditional calendar here).  

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[Translator’s Note: See the index page for this Novel if you want to see the Amazon Link for the eBooks.]