Second year starts with a new schedule, new classrooms, and a new seating chart. I'm unlucky enough to share zero classes with Xinxia.
The desks are crammed into tight rows, the chalkboard cleaner, the air thick with the smell of fresh notebooks and ink. sits near the front, calm as always, while I end up in the third row by the window.
The boy next to me is short, wiry, with hair that sticks up no matter how much he presses it down. He's already turned sideways in his chair, watching me unpack my things.
"I'm Zhang Xiaohou," he says, grin full of teeth. "Call me Houzi if you want. Everybody else does."
I raise an eyebrow. "Houzi?"
"Monkey. Because I'm small, fast, and smarter than I look."
"Or because you're annoying," I mutter.
"Both." He leans back in his chair, satisfied. "So. You any good at math?"
[Your ears were probably tired to death of hearing my name from the teachers, after my performance on the first semesters' finals.]
Amused, I turn to face him and play along. "Absolutely. Why?"
"Because I'm terrible. You can copy my history homework if you want, but math—forget it."
[Never mind, maybe the teachers' words just go in one ear and out the other.]
I stare at him. "…We just met."
"Exactly. Fresh start. We're desk-mates, might as well cooperate. Besides, you've got that serious face. You're probably good at numbers."
"I don't have a serious face."
"Yes you do. The moment you walked in, I thought, wow, this guy's going to scowl his way through the semester."
I shake my head, but he just keeps grinning. By the time the teacher comes in, he's already told me his favorite food (anything fried), his least favorite subject (math, obviously), and his grand plan for life ("get rich without working hard"). Somehow, I don't hate it.
…
…
A couple of weeks in, I'm leaving class late, the halls already half-empty. As I round the corner near the back stairwell, I hear it—taunts, scuffling feet, the muffled sound of someone's bag being emptied.
Zhang Xiaohou is pressed against the wall by three older classmates. One of them dangles his wallet in the air while the others shove him around. Houzi keeps laughing nervously, trying to play it off.
"Come on, brothers, that's all I've got! I was saving for dumplings, you heartless bastards—"
"Shut up." A fist thumps his shoulder, not hard enough to break him, just enough to bruise.
I step into view. "Hey."
The three turn. The tallest sneers. "This your little buddy? You planning to save him?"
Houzi's grin falters when he sees me. "Uh… Jianyu, you don't have to—"
I silently walk forward. Their smirks melt away, and they release Houzi to face me. The ringleader aims a kick at me, but I grab his leg and swing him like a little doll. All the air in his lungs exits in a huff as he collides with a locker and falls to the ground in a heap.
Fear seeps into the countenances of the remaining boys. They split up and lunge at me from opposing directions.
I seize one's throat and commence choking him as he fruitlessly flails around, landing frail punches and kicks on my body. Simultaneously, my leg blurs into motion and slams into the solar plexus of the other boy, knocking him to the ground. He retches and wheezes, stunned by the blow.
My fingers tighten, causing my victim's eyes to bulge in horror, and he ceases his inconsequential assault. Without warning, I shove him away, and he staggers for a bit, clutching at his neck.
I wordlessly gaze at Houzi, and he scrambles up to start walking away with me. "Thanks."
"They were stealing from you."
"Yeah, but… you didn't have to do that." His voice wavers between gratitude and awe. "It wasn't a big deal, I never have much money on me. They just like playing rough now and then."
I pointedly glare at him. "You don't need to lie to yourself to keep your spirits up anymore. Is it not obvious that this won't happen ever again?"
He looks away, but not before I catch his eyes misting up slightly.
…
…
A week later on a windy evening, Houzi and I are walking out of a noodle shop on a bustling market street. He's bouncing on his heels, still talking with his mouth full from slurping down noodles: he ordered an extra to-go bowl to eat on the way home. Three other boys trail behind us—classmates who've tagged along, although our groups haven't merged quite yet. Xu Zhaoting, Zhao Kunsan, and Mu Bai. They're still acquaintances, although I've seen Mu Bai a few times at the Mu estate.
The night air is pleasantly cool, the street lamps humming faintly. Market stalls are closing, and the last smells of fried dough and grilled skewers drift down the road.
Houzi points at the sky with his chopsticks. "That one's the North Star. Or… wait. No, that's a plane. Sorry, I didn't notice the movement at first."
I sigh. "It's a wonder I'm not splattered with broth right now. Also, you shouldn't point with chopsticks."
"Superstition," he shoots back. "Pointing with chopsticks makes ghosts angry, right? Good. They'll protect me from bullies. Bullies are always super afraid of ghosts."
My lips slightly curve up. "First of all, it's etiquette, not superstition. You should worry more about angering your mom than angering ghosts. Second of all, I take offense to the implication that I'm a ghost."
"See? Pointing with chopsticks makes ghosts angry!" He pounds me on the back. "If it makes you feel better, you'd be the boss of all ghosts if you died."
He grins, then acknowledges the three classmates hanging back. "What? You guys don't want to say anything to us? You think Jianyu's gonna bite you if you open your mouths?"
Zhao Kunsan heatedly retorts, "Who knows? With his current reputation, anything is possible."
I whirl around, gobsmacked. "Seriously? Who's spreading rumors about me?"
"Not really rumors, it's just people hyping you up as this invincible fighter," Mu Bai clarifies.
"Speak for yourself. A few of the people he beat up are in my Magic Geography class, and after you walloped them for the second time, your name almost became taboo in there." Zhao Kunsan sticks a finger in his nose.
"A few of our superstitious peers whisper when saying your name," Xu Zhaoting adds. "Also, Kunsan, that's disgusting."
"Sorry."
"Are you?"
"Not really. But I promise I never touch anything with that finger before washing it."
My lips curl at the nauseating sight of his finger plopping out of his nose with a 'jackpot' stuck to it, and I turn back around.
To face a group of scruffy older dudes. Some teens, some young adults. The front few have their arms crossed, and they're glaring at us while blocking the sidewalk ahead of us. A couple in the back carry bats, and one of them even has an iron chain. 11 guys altogether.
[Does Bo City have a gang problem? Not that I've heard of, at least.]
Houzi, to my surprise, steps forward. "Is there a problem?"
The gang makes way for a tall, muscular, tatted man who strolls forth, repeatedly smacking a bat into his palm. "I won't mince words. You beat up one of our boys, Liang Shi, so we're returning the favor. It'll be nice and easy if you all lie down and don't resist."
Mu Bai walks up next to Houzi and glowers at the group. "The city authorities tolerate you because you're a small group and you haven't crossed any overt lines yet. But prepare for that to change, since you're attacking the Mu family."
"Attacking the Mu family?" he laughs. "Save it. You're not even Mu Zhuoyun's kid."
He raises a hand and waves it forward, beckoning the rest of the gang, who all menacingly stride over.
His eyes widen as he ducks, his face avoiding my fist by inches. His own fist rises to meet my torso, but I hadn't over extended my balance, so I spin around and end up behind him, my leg rocketing into a kick that smashes into him. Unfortunately, he reacted quickly enough to turn around and cross his arms, bracing to receive the thunderous blow. It'll be a nasty bruise, but nothing broken.
Houzi, Mu Bai, Zhao Kunsan, and Xu Zhaoting are brawling with the other dudes, and already they're suffering beatings. Thankfully, the other guy wielding a bat and the man with a chain are heading for me, seeing their leader at a disadvantage.
My adversary has backed away and raised his bat; it wasn't useful earlier in such close proximity. I run at him, prompting him to swing it at my midsection.
However, I dive forward into a half-roll to avoid the bat, and when I'm on my back, I'm already beneath him. I sweep my right leg to topple his right leg, causing him to stumble while he recovers from the bat swing. As I explode up off the ground, my left fist rises to meet his jaw, and his head snaps up. His eyes roll backwards, and he crumples instantly, unconscious.
I instinctively fall backwards, watching a chain whip across the air I occupied half a second ago. I scramble up and lean left, avoiding a bat swung at my head. I punish the offender with a left hook into the side of his face, my hand trembling from the impact with his facial bones.
He collapses to the ground. The left side of his face is sunken in slightly, and blood dribbles out of his mouth.
The chain wielder blanches, horrified at how I only needed the moment of reprieve while he gathered up his chain to eliminate his ally. I lunge at him, provoking another swing of the chain, but I bare my teeth in a grin, tensing my legs to halt my momentum and lean back. The iron harmlessly whizzes by my face.
I lunge at him for real and ram a roundhouse kick into his side. A loud crunch resounds as at least one rib snaps, and his body tumbles to the right: the kick knocked him clean off his feet.
My gaze wanders over to my friends. All of them are lying on the ground and curled up, a few younger gang members still kicking them.
My mouth sets into a firm line as I run straight at them. 3 older dudes step up with hands outstretched, ready to grab me.
My foot blurs into motion, rocketing upwards into the jaw of one of them before he can even react. As the other two close in, I recover and feign a punch at the left one. As he reels back to avoid the blow, my right elbow rams backwards into the right guy's face, taking him completely by surprise; he was prepared to grab my torso while I punched his buddy.
The buddy swings a fist, but I grab his wrist and pull him over. When he attempts to punch me with his other hand, I lock that arm in my grasp as well, and my knee sinks into his stomach. I release him, and he doubles over, retching. His tensed abs were not enough to shrug off the immense force.
The remaining 6 boys, likely high schoolers, have already backed away from my friends. They all stare at me in shock.
One of them raises his palms in defeat. "Yo, we're sorry." He trails off, unsure of how to plead for mercy.
I ignore him and check on my friends' conditions. No broken noses or broken bones as far as I can tell, but definitely busted lips and bruises all over their bodies. All but Zhao Kunsan have already clambered up to stand behind me; he's still moaning while curled up on the ground. Xu Zhaoting grabs his arm and pulls him to his feet.
I turn back around and cock my head, glaring at the 6 slightly older boys. None of them meet my gaze: fear is etched into their countenances.
"Alright, we'll end it there." I gesture for them to head over to their injured buddies.
A few of them exhale relieved sighs, and they walk past us to attend to their brethren. I scoff and slink an arm around Houzi's shoulder. "Good work, you all."
As we resume strolling along the sidewalk, this time in in one row, Zhao Kunsan shakes his head. "You're fucking crazy! What even was that?"
"Do you still think it's just hype?" Xu Zhaoting nudges an elbow into Mu Bai's side. "I mean, is he an invincible fighter?"
Mu Bai gazes forward, unperturbed. "Against the general populace, absolutely."
Houzi frowns, but I clasp my hands behind my head in resignation. "C'mon, Mu Bai." I stretch my back. "It's not like Mages are going to pick a fight with a 14 year old."
"True." The corners of his lips lift up slightly.
After a minute of quiet walking, Houzi breaks the slience. "I just processed what you said. Good work? Jianyu, those bastards just beat us up."
"It's still good work." I shrug. "You didn't win, but at least you fought back. If it was just the high schoolers, you probably would have won."
Slowly, they nod. For the rest of the way to our homes, it's a comforting silence, the night air quiet but for our footsteps.