The Bird's Encounter

The duty roster was posted on the blackboard at the back of the classroom, and after Asuka's name was written "Wednesday - Corridor".

She stood in the corridor outside Class 2, Grade 4, holding a rag, carefully wiping the tiles under the windowsill.

The afternoon sun shone on her, making her translucent earlobes look like pink seashells.

She's already wiping the third tile.

"Oh, isn't this Saito-kun?"

Asuka's hand paused. She didn't need to look up to know whose voice it was—

Misaki Sato, a student in Class 2 of Grade 4, is the most "influential" girl in the class. She is always surrounded by two or three followers, and her voice is never too loud or too soft, just loud enough for those around her to hear.

The bird lowered its head and continued wiping the tiles.

"They're cleaning the windows, don't bother them." Another voice rang out; it was Tanaka, one of the henchmen.

The tone sounded like someone was speaking up for Asuka, but the melody was strange, like something out of a play.

"It's not a window, it's a windowsill." A third voice chimed in, Yamamoto, the second of the henchmen.

The three people drifted over like three dark clouds, blocking the sunlight from above the birds' heads.

Feiniao finally raised her head. She looked at the three girls in front of her, said nothing, and clenched the rag in her hand.

"Saito-kun is really diligent," Sato tilted her head and gave a sweet smile, a smile so precise it looked like she had practiced it many times. "Even though you're already a big star, you're still so humble, cleaning the windowsill so carefully."

"Ah, right, right, that guy!" Tanaka clapped his hands. "My mom saw him too, and said, 'That little girl is so cute, and she looks so stylish!' I even told my mom that she's my classmate!"

Yamamoto covered her mouth and chuckled, "But the makeup in that movie was really heavy; I didn't even recognize him at first glance. Saito-kun, did you use a lot of foundation when you filmed that movie? Your skin looks so white on camera, but actually—"

She didn't finish speaking, but all three of them laughed.

The laughter wasn't loud, but it sounded exceptionally clear in the afternoon corridor, like three needles piercing a balloon at the same time.

Feiniao's face gradually turned pale.

She filmed that promotional video a year ago, for a local supermarket's summer sale. It was only fifteen seconds long, and she only appeared for three seconds.

Those three seconds earned her a reward of 50,000 yen, but also a whole year of trouble.

The word "makeup" has been associated with her ever since that day.

Some say she has two faces, one on camera and one off; some say her mixed-race eyes are all thanks to colored contact lenses; some laugh and say, "Mixed-race people are just good at acting cute, they're born to act."

Every word sounded like a compliment, yet every word sounded like an insult.

"It must be tough filming GG, right?" Sato took a step forward, and Asuka instinctively took a step back, her back pressed against the cold wall.

"You have to smile for a long time in front of the camera. You don't smile much at school, I thought you had a problem with your smile muscles. Turns out you can only smile in front of the camera."

The bird's lips trembled slightly.

"What are you doing?"

The sound came from the other end of the corridor; it wasn't loud, but it was steady.

The three girls turned their heads at the same time.

Xia Mo stood at the door of Class 1, Grade 4, holding a notebook in her hand, probably planning to go to the office to hand in her homework.

His expression appeared calm, but the light in his eyes was cold, as cold as well water in winter.

Sato's expression changed for a moment, but she quickly put on that sweet smile again: "Ah, they're classmates from the next class. We're chatting with Saito-kun."

"Chatting?" Xia Mo walked over, her steps neither fast nor slow. "It doesn't sound like chatting to me."

Tanaka looked him up and down and muttered under his breath, "Where did this foreigner come from?"

Xia Mo heard it.

He stopped and stood between Fei Niao and the three girls, like a not-so-thick but very firm wall.

He looked at Sato, his voice not loud, but every word clear: "What's wrong with filming gay porn? Filming gay porn shows that the person is excellent. If you were capable, you could do it too. The question is—do you?"

The corridor fell silent for a moment.

Several students who had just left the classroom stopped and looked at this place from a distance.

Sato's smile finally crumbled.

Her face changed from white to red, then from red to green, like an overripe peach.

"We were praising her, okay? Who are you? What's your relationship with her?"

"Whatever your relationship is has nothing to do with you," Xia Mo said, her tone still calm, but her hands were already clenching slightly. "Are you done talking? You can leave now."

"What are you, a Chinese man, pretending to be a hero for?" Yamamoto's voice shrieked, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "What business is it of yours what we Japanese do?"

These words were like a match struck on Xia Mo's nerves, instantly igniting a spark of anger in his heart. So instead of backing away, he took half a step forward.

Say it again.

Yamamoto opened his mouth, but was forced to swallow the rest of his words by Xia Mo's gaze.

Sato took a deep breath, looked around at the growing crowd, and knew that staying any longer would not do him any good.

She gave Asuka one last look, a look that contained resentment, anger, and a "you just wait" threat.

"Forget it, there's no point in talking to this kind of person. I'm leaving."

She turned and left. Tanaka and Yamamoto followed behind her, and as she walked away, Yamamoto didn't forget to turn back and glare at Natsume.

Xia Mo watched their backs disappear around the corner of the corridor before turning around to look at Fei Niao.

Are you alright?

Feiniao leaned against the wall, the rag in her hand clenched so tightly it was deformed.

She looked up at him, her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just shook her head.

Xia Mo noticed that her hands were shaking.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something comforting.

"That's just how they are, don't take it to heart," "You don't need to pay them any attention."

But when the words came out, they all seemed too weak, as light as trying to catch a stone with a piece of paper.

Just then, he saw Sato and the others return.

They didn't walk back, they ran back.

Sato walked at the front, his sweet smile completely gone, replaced by a vicious expression.

Tanaka and Yamamoto followed behind, with another person behind them—a boy who was a head taller than them.

It was Watanabe from Class 2, Grade 4, who was notoriously difficult to mess with.

"Watanabe-kun, that's him." Yamamoto pointed at Natsumi, his voice shrill like a whistle, "He just said bad things about us Japanese."

Xia Mo's expression changed. He knew this guy; he had practiced Taekwondo since childhood and once had a glorious record of defeating four peers by himself. If he really fought him, he would definitely lose.

"I didn't say—"

"You did," Sato said slowly, as if reading a verdict in court, "You said things like 'you Japanese,' and many classmates heard it."

The bird suddenly raised its head: "She's lying! He didn't—"

Watanabe didn't listen to anyone.

He walked up to Xia Mo, looked down at the boy who was half a head shorter than him, and had a disdainful smile on his lips.

"It's you?"

Xia Mo did not back down. He looked at Watanabe, his voice still steady: "I didn't say those bad things. They're lying."

Watanabe tilted his head, as if considering whether or not to believe him.

But Sato, standing behind him, added, "Watanabe-kun, he also called us trash."

This statement was completely fabricated. But Watanabe clearly didn't care whether it was true or false—he just needed a reason.

His hand shoved Xia Mo's shoulder.

Summer was pushed back two steps, her heel touching the toe of a bird.

He didn't fall, but the force from his shoulder blade told him that this person wasn't there to reason with him.

"Apologize," Watanabe said.

Xia Mo looked at him and swallowed back the words, "Why should I apologize?"

Because he knew that reasoning with people was useless in this situation.

He glanced at the smug faces of the three girls behind Watanabe, then at both ends of the corridor—more and more students were watching the spectacle, but no one stepped forward.

"I won't apologize," he said.

Watanabe narrowed his eyes slightly.

call!

The next second, his fist arrived.

Xia Mo tilted his head slightly, but didn't completely dodge. The fist grazed his cheekbone, sending a burning pain through him. He staggered a couple of steps and grabbed the wall for support.

Before he could even regain his footing, Watanabe's second punch landed squarely on his lip.

Xia Mo's head suddenly tilted to one side, and a metallic taste filled her mouth.

Asuka screamed, "Stop!"

No one stopped.

Watanabe grabbed Natsume by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

Tanaka and Yamamoto watched with shining eyes, while Sato stood behind them with his arms crossed, a satisfied smile on his lips.

The crowd of onlookers made a low buzzing sound, like a group of spectators watching a cockfight.

Xia Mo's lip was cut, and a bead of blood seeped out, starkly contrasting against his pale skin. His mind raced for a few moments—

A direct confrontation? He couldn't win; their height and weight were on completely different levels. Call the teacher? Would it be too late? Even if the teacher arrived, and the three of them testified, would anyone believe him, a foreigner, if he said, "I didn't say anything bad about them"?

So he used all his strength to break free from Watanabe's grasp, turned and ran.

Without the slightest hesitation.