Chapter 2

Du Zhengxuan wound the music box only once before putting it away. She rummaged through her belongings and found a humidifier she had bought earlier—a Halloween pumpkin-shaped one, purchased at a high price for its appearance but never used. Initially, she had wanted to use image recognition to check the price of the music box to decide on an appropriate return gift, but she couldn’t find that model for sale online and decided it was best to reciprocate generously.

She wrapped up the humidifier, wrote a polite thank-you note, then changed her Wi-Fi name to “Music Box: The Most Beautiful in the World [crying]” and went to bed satisfied.

The next day, she woke up at six and, on her way out, hung the return gift on her neighbor’s door. When she came home in the evening, the gift bag was gone, replaced by a note on her own door reading “Thank you,” in the same style as the one on the music box.

Du Zhengxuan was thrilled, feeling this was a promising start. She carefully stored the new label in her drawer and changed her Wi-Fi name to “No need to thank me [grinning][grinning].” In her mind, she had already imagined the whole process: introducing herself to the cosplaying teacher across the hall, becoming friends, discovering shared interests, attending thirty conventions together, and more.

However, from that day on, Du Zhengxuan never saw the charming, kind, and talented cosplayer teacher next door again. The reason was simple: Du Zhengxuan was a high school student.

At H City Affiliated High School, there were fourteen classes a day—two early readings and twelve regular lessons. Classes started at 6:30 with early readings, then four lessons each in the morning, afternoon, and evening. Du Zhengxuan ate dinner at school and often stayed there during lunchtime for a nap. As a day student, she left home by 6:20 at the latest and didn’t return until after ten at night. She spent over fifteen hours a day at school, her routine almost like that of a miner: leaving before dawn and returning after dark.

With such a grueling schedule, after a week of the new term, her mind was filled with only three thoughts: “study,” “I want to sleep,” and “if I don’t spend ten minutes on my phone each day, I’ll go crazy.” Even the cosplayer teacher’s face became a blur in her memory.

So, one day when she looked up during a break and saw the cosplayer teacher sitting beside her, Du Zhengxuan honestly thought she was dreaming.

It was right after the second early reading, just before the first lesson. The Chinese teacher was at the front, banging on the desk and calling everyone to wake up: “If you’re still sleepy, take your textbook and stand in the back. Those by the window, open them up—let’s all perk up!”

To rouse the students, the teacher made quite a commotion. Maybe because of this, the cosplayer teacher across from her seemed a bit nervous. He was dressed much as he had been the first time she saw him, in a crisp Western-style uniform. A black choker just revealed the movement of his Adam’s apple, and his striking blue eyes stared unblinkingly.

No wonder, she mused—her dreams were always this detailed.

Du Zhengxuan was still tired but dared not doze off again. She stared blankly at the cosplayer teacher for a while, then slowly took out her textbook and test paper, absently listening to the lesson and scribbling incomprehensible symbols as notes she wouldn’t understand even when fully awake.

The “cosplayer teacher” at first only glanced at her work from the corner of his eye. Then, noticing Du Zhengxuan was as focused as a robot, unresponsive to anything he did, he grew bolder, openly looking her way. Du Zhengxuan thought he wanted to copy her notes and generously pushed her papers toward him.

“…”
Uh, thanks?

Chuya Nakahara really wasn’t sure what was happening, but nodded in gratitude and meticulously copied all the notes from Du Zhengxuan’s test paper.

As he copied, his anxiety gradually faded. Before coming here, he had taken a crash course in Chinese, but due to work, had barely attended. He’d worried about the language barrier, but as he put pen to paper, he realized it wasn’t so different from the kana in Japanese.

As he wrote, the text was simultaneously transmitted to the support team outside. They would help parse the content and analyze the handwriting, providing remote support. Yet, for some reason, his earpiece remained silent—neither the Chinese experts nor the handwriting analysts said a word.

Was the mic broken? Or was there some other issue?

Chuya—master cosplayer, mysterious transfer student, international friend—considered the possibilities. Both seemed likely, given how rushed the preparations had been.

Despite being only sixteen, Chuya Nakahara was actually a member of the Port Mafia across the sea. He had come here on a secret mission from the boss: to make contact with Du Zhengxuan and acquire “something possessing absolute power” from her.

Though his cunning, sharp-minded partner had protested such a vague directive, Chuya believed that if the boss said so, the item must truly possess mysterious power, enough to be recognized at a glance.

The original plan was to make contact outside the school, and he wasn’t even supposed to be the operative. But Dazai had caught a severe cold after spending too long outside in winter…

At that thought, Chuya allowed himself a satisfied smirk.

…

The first period was spent on a test paper. When the bell rang, Du Zhengxuan didn’t even bother to put away her books, collapsing onto her test paper for another nap. She slept through the break and only gradually woke up during the second period, thanks to the English teacher’s microphone.

After the second period, the broadcast signaled the start of the big class break and the warm-up for the campus run. Du Zhengxuan went to the back to get her school uniform jacket, and when she turned, she found herself locking eyes with the cosplayer teacher sitting beside her.

They stared for a few seconds before Du Zhengxuan exclaimed, “Why are you still here?!”

On the desk next to her, which was supposed to be empty, sat something resembling an old cell phone, which immediately emitted an emotionally charged, mechanical voice—like an English listening exercise:

“Naze anata wa mada koko ni iru desu ka?!”

“…Huh?”

Du Zhengxuan glanced at the device, then at the cosplayer teacher’s face, utterly confused.

“Stop with the ‘huh,’” said Long Wan, the girl in front, quickly pulling on her uniform pants. “This is Nakahara Chuya, the new transfer student. He arrived during the early break—I tried to wake you to clear your books, but you were out cold. The foreign student kindly helped you pack them onto the windowsill. Don’t forget to take them.”

“Oh, I see. Sorry, sorry,” Du Zhengxuan apologized out of habit. “I was just too sleepy to hear you.”

“Soudesuka, sumimasen. Ano toki watashi wa nemusugite kikoemasen deshita.”

As soon as she finished, the black, old-fashioned device on the desk immediately spat out a string of Japanese, like a tape recorder.

Nakahara Chuya nodded. “No… problem…”

Such stiff Chinese.

He hadn’t used the translator, but his enunciation was so exaggerated that the tones sounded odd. With Chinese like this, he’d probably struggle even to buy something on the street.

Du Zhengxuan thought so but couldn’t help staring at the cosplayer teacher—well, Nakahara now, she supposed. In truth, it was just that his face was too attractive. Even his broken Chinese, paired with that serious, handsome expression, had a peculiar kind of cuteness.

She stared rather rudely for a few seconds. In the meantime, Long Wan had already finished changing, shoved aside her desk mate’s chair, and asked, “Ready to go?”

“Yes, yes, let’s go.”

During the big class break, everyone had to go downstairs for the run. The first-year classrooms were on the third floor, and being late was easy if you weren’t careful.

Du Zhengxuan nodded, still not sure how to face yesterday’s cosplayer teacher—now her new desk mate—so she just gave him an awkward wave and a smile.

The broadcast was already halfway through “Ballade pour Adeline.” Forcing herself to look away from Nakahara’s face, she scooped up her down jacket and uniform jacket and hurried out the door.

For convenience, Du Zhengxuan only wore a sweater and her uniform jacket in class. To go out for the run, she needed to take off her uniform jacket, put on the down jacket, and then the uniform jacket again. Carrying both items and dressing while walking was no small feat.

She quickly slipped on her down jacket and, as she was pulling on her uniform jacket, glanced back to check if its sleeve had dragged on the floor.

It hadn’t.

When she turned back, she found herself face-to-face with the metal buttons of a Western-style uniform, at an uncomfortably close distance.

Nakahara, the new transfer student, was behind her, holding up the trailing sleeve of her uniform to help.

Before she could process what was happening, she was momentarily stunned by his good looks.

Du Zhengxuan opened her mouth but said nothing.

Seeing her gape, Long Wan glanced over and then said to Nakahara, “Hey, school heartthrob—you don’t have a school uniform. If you go out, you’ll lose points. Just stay in the classroom your first day.”

She spoke quickly, and with the crackling static from the corridor speakers, Nakahara and Long Wan stared at each other, not understanding a word.

Long Wan frowned and patted Du Zhengxuan on the back. “Translate, please.”

“Me?” Du Zhengxuan pointed at herself.

“Who else? You watch so much anime—now’s your time to shine,” Long Wan pressed, like a parent forcing their child to use English with a foreigner on the street. “Hurry up, or we’ll be late.”

“…Fine,” Du Zhengxuan gave up and racked her brain for what to say.

“Um…YOU—no, kimi, have no uniform, uh, seifuku, stay here please, I will be back soon, o-okay?”

She started with Japanese but ended up defaulting to English, so it became a hodgepodge of three languages.

When she finished, sweat broke out on her forehead, but Nakahara only looked confused for a moment before nodding in understanding and returning to the classroom.

Du Zhengxuan breathed a sigh of relief.

Long Wan looked at her and said, “I liked you better when you acted all rebellious on Penguin Chat.”

“Just go!” Du Zhengxuan retorted.

Couldn’t she be spared the teasing? She had no idea how she’d face sitting next to the handsome Nakahara after the run!