The yellow-haired girl’s final, vicious insult landed like a scalding ladle of boiling oil dumped straight over Qiu Mian’s heart.
All the guilt and hesitation she’d felt from “acting” evaporated in an instant. A nameless fury roared to life inside her, burning so fiercely that her fingertips actually went faintly numb.
“Trash”?
Fine, insult me if you want… but her—Okra? And dragging her mother into it too?
Qiu Mian didn’t even realize she had already subconsciously placed Okra in the “must protect” category—even though she herself was currently playing the role of the aggressor.
But right now, this suddenly appearing yellow-haired bitch was clearly a thousand times worse than her half-hearted performance.
She took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the slight tremor caused by this frail body, and stepped forward, placing herself squarely in front of Okra.
Even though she was noticeably shorter, making the protective gesture somewhat comical, she still had to strike the pose.
Yellow Hair raised an eyebrow, looking mildly surprised but mostly amused.
Her gaze slid lazily over the top of Qiu Mian’s head to land on Okra, who still stood behind with her head bowed, expression hidden. The nauseatingly malicious smile on Yellow Hair’s face deepened.
“Yo, good morning~?”
She let out a long, mocking drawl. “Qiu Mian, long time no see. Still playing the ‘big sister’ role pretty convincingly, huh?”
She paused deliberately, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them with open derision.
“But your little tag-along here… same old same old. Just looking at her makes me want to puke.”
Qiu Mian’s heart sank.
She knows “me”? And from the sound of it, she knows both “Qiu Mian” and Okra? A character the original never wrote? Something the system filled in? To add more conflict… or maybe to trigger that “transfer student” plot point?
Whoever she was, right now—she had pissed Qiu Mian off.
Qiu Mian lifted her gaze, trying her best to imitate the haughty posture she remembered giving her villains. Even though the height difference forced her to tilt her head up slightly, she poured every ounce of icy arrogance she could muster into her stare.
The corner of her mouth hooked into a frigid, mocking curve.
“Ha.”
A short, sharp bark of laughter escaped her—quiet, but clear enough to carry.
“Who the hell are you?”
She gave Yellow Hair a slow once-over, eyes evaluating her the way one might look at a piece of particularly disgusting garbage: starting from that blindingly garish yellow hair, down to the deliberately altered uniform that broke at least three school rules, and finally back up to the face twisted with malice.
“What kind of stray mutt comes barking in people’s faces first thing in the morning?”
Her words came out measured and unhurried, laced with deliberate, infuriating calm.
“So noisy. And you stink. Didn’t your mom ever teach you to at least comb that pile of dead grass on your head before leaving the house? You’re scaring the passersby.”
The smile froze on Yellow Hair’s face. Her eyes darkened instantly.
The two lackeys behind her also scowled.
“Oh, and you two…” Qiu Mian’s gaze drifted lazily over the pair standing behind Yellow Hair, her tone growing even more contemptuous.
“Lackeys? Tch. Truly matching aesthetics. Both fans of that… rural-upstart-grew-money-overnight style? Or is it just birds of a feather—only trash can stomach trash?”
“Who the fuck are you talking about?!” One of the lackeys couldn’t hold back anymore. She stepped forward and jabbed a finger toward Qiu Mian’s face.
“Whoever answers.” Qiu Mian didn’t even bother lifting her eyelids fully, voice flat.
“Brain damage and deafness too? Need me to look up a special school for you? Though looking at you… pretty sure they wouldn’t take you.”
“Qiu Mian!” Yellow Hair finally dropped the fake smile. Her voice cooled several degrees.
“Long time no see, and your tongue’s gotten sharper. What, you think spouting a few lines like this is enough to protect—”
“Shut up.”
Qiu Mian cut her off. Her voice wasn’t loud.
“Is your mouth only good for spewing shit? Or is insulting people with your pathetic vocabulary the only way you can feel like you exist? How sad.”
She tilted her head slightly, adopting a thoughtful expression, then brightened as if she’d just understood something.
“Ah, I get it now. You know it too, don’t you? That apart from your cheap clothes and that talent for verbal diarrhea, you’re completely worthless. So the only way you can scrape together any sense of superiority is by picking on people who look weaker than you. Pathetic.”
“You—!”
Yellow Hair was thoroughly enraged. She raised her hand as though to grab Qiu Mian by the collar.
The more hot-tempered lackey beside her didn’t hesitate—she swung her arm back and brought her palm hurtling toward Qiu Mian’s face with real force!
A rush of wind hit her cheek.
Shit! I’m actually gonna get slapped!
Qiu Mian’s heart clenched. Her body instinctively tried to dodge, but this frail shell reacted far too slowly.
She could clearly see the vicious glee in the girl’s eyes and the rapidly enlarging hand in front of her face.
But… if things go according to “plan,” once she hits me, the evidence is ironclad. My phone should be recording…
In that split second—
The expected pain never came.
Right before the slap could connect with Qiu Mian’s cheek—
A hand with distinct, well-defined knuckles shot out from beside her, intercepting the incoming wrist in mid-air with rock-steady precision!
The motion was so fast it left only an afterimage.
The attacking lackey froze. She yanked hard, trying to pull free, but the grip didn’t budge—in fact, it slowly began to tighten.
A faint crack sounded from compressed bones. The lackey’s face went white with pain.
Qiu Mian was stunned too. She followed the hand upward.
It was Okra.
The girl who had been hunching behind her with her head down had somehow stepped forward half a pace, positioning herself just slightly in front and to the side of Qiu Mian.
Right now, there was no expression on Okra’s face at all.
Only an eerie, frozen calm.
Those violet eyes locked coldly onto the offending lackey—and beyond her, onto Yellow Hair.
There was no emotion in that gaze, yet it carried a tangible pressure, like being stared down by a dangerous predator.
“L-Let go!” The captured lackey was both furious and startled, with a trace of barely concealed fear. She struggled violently, but it was useless.
Okra said nothing. She simply watched. Her fingers tightened another fraction.
“Ah—!” The lackey finally cried out in pain.
Yellow Hair’s expression shifted. She glanced at her contorted-faced lackey, then at this completely changed Okra, eyes flickering with uncertainty.
In her memory, Okra had always been the spineless crybaby who kept her head down and took every blow without fighting back. Since when… did she have this kind of look, this kind of strength?
Even Qiu Mian was dumbfounded.
She stared at Okra’s straightened back—at those shoulders that usually looked so slender and fragile.
So… Okra is actually this strong?
And her combat power… is this high?!
The realization left Qiu Mian’s emotions in complete turmoil.
Shock. And a strange dawning understanding.
Yellow Hair narrowed her eyes. The anger on her face gradually gave way to something darker, more sinister.
She tugged at the corner of her mouth, forcing that knife-hidden-in-a-smile expression back onto her face. Her gaze darted between Okra’s hand still gripping the lackey’s wrist and Qiu Mian’s stunned expression.
“Interesting…”
“Really… very interesting, Qiu Mian. Your little ‘sidekick’ has been hiding some serious claws, huh.”