Chen De, You're Fucking Awesome

"Just kidding."

Chen De sat up with a blank expression.

"Anyway, I'm already on this pirate ship. It's too late to talk about getting off now."

"I think very highly of your ideological awareness."

Qubi nodded.

"So what are you planning to do next? Go to school, or..."

"Go. Why wouldn't I?"

"You're not afraid of that dean anymore?"

"Afraid of what? I don't even know his name. It's not like I did anything wrong."

"Who says boys can't have long hair?"

There was a hint of calm acceptance in Chen De's voice.

"Let whoever wants to talk, talk."

Qubi fell silent for a second.

"Fine, I support you."

"That expression doesn't look like support."

"I support you in my heart."

"What use is that? You're not going to school for me."

"I can go with you and sit in your backpack."

"What can you do sitting in my backpack?"

"Watch you with my emerald-green eyes and cheer you on."

"Thanks, but on behalf of the entire student body, I respectfully decline."

Chen De grabbed his backpack and headed out. Qubi skillfully hopped onto his shoulder.

Before leaving, Chen De stood in front of the mirror for three seconds.

His cap was pulled low, and gray ombré hair fell from both sides of the brim. His face was pale, his eyes large, and his lashes long.

He took a deep breath.

"What's there to be afraid of? At worst, people will look at me a little more."

Then he pushed open the door and went out.

The moment he reached the school gate, he realized he had seriously underestimated what "a little more" meant.

The elderly security guard stared at him for a full five seconds.

"Student, this is the high school division."

Chen De froze for a moment.

"I know. I go to school here."

"Are you new?"

"I'm not new. I've been here for almost a year."

The guard looked him up and down, his eyes carrying the confused look of someone who had seen him before but couldn't recognize him.

"Let me see your student ID."

Chen De pulled out his student ID and handed it over.

The guard looked at the ID, then at Chen De, then back at the ID, repeating the process three times.

"...Go on in."

Qubi spoke softly from his shoulder.

"First checkpoint cleared."

"Say another word and I'll stuff you in my backpack."

The buzzing chatter in the classroom fell completely silent for three whole seconds when he walked in.

Chen De walked calmly to his seat, sat down, and opened his textbook.

Jiang Ping beside him was the first to speak.

"Chen De, your hair—"

"It got longer. I know."

"It got that long overnight?"

"Good genes."

"What genes?"

"Abnormal hair-growth-speed genes."

"Isn't that... not normal?"

"Modern science is advancing. You need to learn to accept new things."

Jiang Ping stared at him for five seconds.

"You look... kind of pretty today."

"Thanks. You look energetic too."

Chen De lowered his head and continued reading, his expression unchanged.

His shoulder trembled slightly. Qubi was holding back laughter.

After four morning classes, Chen De had developed a complete set of responses.

The first move: quickly change the subject.

"Why is your hair—"

"Oh, right, did you borrow my Chinese textbook? Hold on, let me look for it."

The second move: respond with an even stranger question.

"Why is your hair—"

"Do you know how many millimeters human hair can grow in a day? 0.15 to 0.2. I looked it up last night."

The third move: expression management.

He wore a composed expression until the person asking began to wonder, Could the problem be me?

He rotated between the three moves, and they worked every time.

But during the break, a variable appeared.

The dean was standing at the classroom door.

Chen De was drinking water. When he looked up, their eyes met.

The dean's gaze landed on his head, lingered for two seconds, then he walked in.

"Chen De."

"Yeah."

"Your hair violates school rules."

"My hair is black. The color meets the requirements."

"The rules say long hair can't extend past the eyebrows."

Chen De set down his water bottle.

"I looked up the original wording last night. It doesn't specify whether that rule applies only to boys or girls."

The dean froze for a moment.

"Well, of course it—"

"If there is no explicit distinction, then according to the principle of uniform application of rules, this rule should apply equally to male and female students."

"In other words, either girls can't have long hair either, or boys can have long hair."

"You have to choose one. Otherwise, the rule itself has a loophole."

Chen De's tone was calm, as if he were explaining a mathematical proof.

The classroom went completely silent.

The dean stared at him for a full six seconds, then turned and left.

There was no disciplinary action at all.

The door closed. The classroom remained silent for three seconds, then erupted.

"Chen De, you're fucking awesome!"

"He couldn't even keep a straight face!"

"Are they going to revise the school rules?"

Chen De took another sip of water without revealing anything, pretending to be utterly unruffled.

Qubi lay on the corner of the desk, its tail swaying.

"He left because he couldn't find any logic to refute you with."

"I know."

"Your right leg shook a few times just now."

Chen De's hand clenched slightly.

"Why were you counting that?"

"Assessing your psychological stress tolerance. The conclusion is that your mouth is stronger than your legs."

"Thanks. Don't say that next time."

School ended, and the sunlight was just right.

Chen De took off his cap and let down his ponytail. His hair drifted in the wind.

Passing a shop window, he caught sight of his reflection. His steps slowed, and he stared at it for two seconds.

"What is it?"

Qubi poked half its head out through a gap in the backpack.

"Nothing."

Chen De put his cap back on and kept walking.

"It's just... if you really look at it, this hair does seem pretty nice."

"Are you complimenting yourself?"

"I'm making an objective assessment."

"Is there a difference?"

"The difference is that I'm evaluating the hair, not myself."

"Same head, same person."

"You're really annoying."

Chen De quickened his pace toward home.

"Tell me, which matters more to you: having long hair or money?"

Chen De thought for about two seconds.

"Before today, it was the hair. After today, it's money."

"What about the hair?"

Chen De pushed open the building entrance door.

"I'm keeping it. It looks good, anyway."

Qubi fell silent for a moment.

"You admitted it again."

"I merely made an objective assessment."

"Same head—"

"Say that one more time and I'll throw you away."

Qubi immediately shut up.

Chen De pushed open the front door, tossed his backpack onto the sofa, washed his hands, and prepared to cook instant noodles.

Everything was perfectly normal.

Normal enough that he almost forgot he was actually a magical girl now.

Almost.