Chapter 24: The Ruthless and Heartless Odachi Samurai, Arrives!

“Did you change your hairstyle?”

The girl asked.

“A friend suggested showing my forehead, so I tried it.

But I’m not used to it—kept feeling off in the mirror today.”

Lin Zhiyi recalled Zhao Qingning’s words last night, asking uncertainly:

“…Do you think it looks better this way?”

“You’re asking me?”

Xu Miaoyan seemed astonished.

“Who else?

My imaginary friend?”

He glanced left and right; after-school clubroom held just them—Cheng Xiran had headed home early.

Xu Miaoyan shot him an odd look.

“I’m team cover-the-forehead—can’t you tell?”

Her thick bangs fell silent.

If hair could speak, they’d scream right then: Look me in the eye, punk!

Lin Zhiyi burst out laughing, shoulders shaking:

“True…”

The poke hit a funny bone—how hilarious.

“Laugh it up.”

Xu Miaoyan huffed lightly.

Better switch back tomorrow.

Lin Zhiyi reined in his mirth, but inadvertently locked eyes with Xu Miaoyan—or rather, her bangs.

“What’re you staring at?”

The round glasses before the bangs demanded, peeved.

“Hahahahaha…”

He cracked again; his hard-won composure crumbled instantly.

Lin Zhiyi, still chuckling, plopped beside Xu Miaoyan; she nudged a bag of chips his way—help yourself—amid a snack pile on the desk.

So much junk food—she could rule the class as big sis; yet only he got to partake…

Made it taste even better.

He eyed Xu Miaoyan:

“Gaming?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Xu Miaoyan hummed, a vague acknowledgment—mood inscrutable.

He wasn’t puzzled by her activity—he wasn’t blind—but…

“Why can you flaunt the console here?

Disciplinary won’t bust you?”

“Secret’s mine.”

She replied breezily—classic Xu Miaoyan dodge.

Chatting with her always felt like she’d rather not; read receipts with meh replies.

“Oh right—she hates chatting.”

“You game?”

She flipped the question.

“Only Age of Empires 2.”

Post-work past life, his boss dragged him for rounds often; Lin Zhiyi puzzled the pick, but played enough to pick it up.

That boss was fun—ex-Shandong TV host.

Xu Miaoyan didn’t follow up, eyes glued to her handheld, fingers flying—lost in it.

Lin Zhiyi’s homework wrapped in last study hall; nothing doing, he munched snacks, watching her play.

Even a noob saw: her skills shone.

“Don’t hog—my mouth’s idle too.”

She piped up sudden.

Lin Zhiyi blanked first, shoving snacks her way; Xu Miaoyan didn’t budge, just waggled her console—hands full.

Then it clicked; he hesitated, joking:

“Alright—up the challenge: toss in air, you catch?”

“?”

Xu Miaoyan looked up; bangs hid eyes, but Lin Zhiyi pictured the deadpan stare behind lenses.

“What’re you dallying for, big man?

Think I’m flirting?”

Her tone edged impatient.

“Don’t overthink—I’ll never fall for you.”

“…”

Lin Zhiyi felt oddly mixed, conceding: pinched a mushroom crisp, held to her lips.

She chomped; tongue-tip grazed his fingertip inadvertent.

“Hey!

Slobber on my hand—gross!”

Lin Zhiyi snatched tissues, wiping.

“Didn’t notice—eyes on screen!”

Her snap sounded more flustered than his.

“And don’t sneak a sniff!”

“??? Who’d do that???

You’re nuts!”

Xu Miaoyan quit feeding him, speeding through the round.

Console down, she crammed chips herself.

Then turned to Lin Zhiyi, musing:

“Wanna play?

You look bored.”

She dug another handheld from her bag.

“Doraemon much?”

Lin Zhiyi gawked.

“Why two consoles at school?”

“In case one dies—no play.”

Holy—past-life richest him never splurged like that.

“Hit it—bored anyway.

What’s the game?”

Lin Zhiyi eyed Xu Miaoyan’s screen: blade clashes, beast roars unending.

“Monster Hunter.”

Xu Miaoyan said flatly.

Her rundown: in this world, village hunters wield weapons against endless monsters and dinos, safeguarding peace.

She controlled a dual-shortblade wielder, darting nimble through beast packs.

“Pick a weapon.”

She built his character.

Lin Zhiyi scanned the arsenal, gaze snagging a sleek, long-bladed beauty.

“This odachi.”

How melodic.

First Monster Hunter go, he’d shortcut life—skipping decades of detours.

Odachi perfection—gamers’ ultimate dream!

Longtime odachi mains: clear-eyed, ultra-confident, IQ climbing till genius.

Odachi reshapes physique, births medical marvels.

Picking odachi signals top-tier wisdom, character, looks—destined for upright triumphs.

Odachi players foster social harmony, duty to order—prolong normals’ lives…

“Uh…”

Maybe illusion, but Xu Miaoyan’s lips twitched fleeting disdain—gone in a blink, back to neutral.

“C’mon—I’ll teach.”

Xu Miaoyan led to village training ground, demoing odachi basics smooth; Lin Zhiyi watched rapt.

“What’s that Laurentian Mind’s Eye Slash.”

The perfect parry: too cool—watching her itched his palms.

“Got it—let’s roll!”

Kitted, they plunged crisis-ridden ancient forest.

Hunters agile, vaulting boughs and crags, steps light and sure.

Deep woods beasts sensed murder-lust, slinking from view.

At zone 11, target sighted.

“There!

Our mark—the Silver Fire Dragon!”

Xu Miaoyan chirped sharp, firing near-invisible wires, snagging high branch—swinging airborne, soaring at the beast.

Lin Zhiyi looked up: her petite form flitted light-shadow dance, swallow-swift, butterfly-grace.

Silver Fire Dragon startled by assault—but ere reaction, second wire whistled, pinning trunk behind.

Xu Miaoyan blurred, blade-flash electric; dragon’s facial scales shattered, blood spraying.

Midair spin, twin blades whipped frost-gleam; whirlwind along spine down—scales and flesh rained.

Feet never touched ground; dragon mauled head-to-tail.

Silver Fire Dragon bellowed earth-shaking rage, claw sweeping ground toward Lin Zhiyi!

“Picks on the weak??

Lin Zhiyi gaped, bolting full-tilt.

…

“It’s crumbling!

I feel it—grievously hurt!”

Xu Miaoyan’s voice floated from above; she perched tree-branch.

After brutal fray, Silver Fire Dragon staggered, wounds galore, bloodied.

Lin Zhiyi’s armor shredded too, heals spent.

Her words rallied him; gripping odachi, he steeled for deathmatch.

“Now!”

He roared.

“Victory! Dragonstrike!”

Lin Zhiyi sheathed then unsheathed skyward leap.

Time froze: young hero midair bellow unsheathe; dragon craned, golden slit-pupils first flashing fear.

Time flowed; youth landed, vertical cleave hammering dragon skull!

But Silver Fire Dragon sidestepped casual.

Dragonstrike—whiffed grandly!

Damn—still no?

Mommy, quitting.

Beatdown endured, red gauge charged—wasted.

Life’s a joke.

Air held girl’s stifled snicker.

“Bad—counter incoming.”

Lin Zhiyi wiped sweat, stance shift to “parry.”

I’ve read you all!

Take this, Silver Fire Dragon—down you go!

Words unfinished, parry slashed empty.

Stamina—exhausted total!

“What the—Da Lin sensei.”

The girl’s amused voice rang clear.

“Quiet—I’m sheathing!”

Lin Zhiyi flushed beet, reverse-grip, eyes drilling beast’s every twitch, tensed for draw!

Then on-spot sheathe fail—slammed Silver Fire Dragon’s paw, airborne then cratered, down for count seamless.

Odachi ronin: honorably K.O.’d.

*

“Hey… that funny?”

Lin Zhiyi eyed Xu Miaoyan, doubled-over desk-laughing, lacking conviction.

Her shoulders heaved; giggles uncontainable.

“Yeah—hilarious,”

She surfaced finally, wiping tears—she’d laughed ’em out.

“Perfectly matches my every odachi vision.”

Lin Zhiyi’s flashy flurry? Zero impact.

Silver Fire Dragon likely pitied him, swatting exit—sparing further shame.

Cool! But useless! But cool!

Ultimately, Xu Miaoyan felled the dragon; hunt didn’t flop.

They queued more rounds; Xu Miaoyan reveled.

Game over, she set the handheld gentle, lips quirking faint.

Lin Zhiyi couldn’t see her eyes, but instinct said: smiling—deeply content.

Dusk outside: home time.

“How you heading back?”

Lin Zhiyi asked, shoulder-to-shoulder out the gate.

“Bus 15.”

Not far.

“I’ll walk you on.”

Xu Miaoyan chuckled soft:

“Quite the gentleman.”

Lin Zhiyi smiled too, then quipped:

“We’ll go then—hand in hand, forever onward.”

From The Brothers Karamazov—Xu Miaoyan’s recent read; he’d skimmed it today, hitting the line.

Xu Miaoyan caught on, voice even and tender:

“Thus always, lifelong hand in hand—hoorah.”

Bus stop quick; they sat side-by-side bench, chatting desultory.

Brake hiss shattered quiet; bus pulled in.

Time slipped; unknowingly, her departure neared.

Through the window, eyes met—but only she saw his clear; unfair.

She waved light.

“Tomorrow.”

Lin Zhiyi mouthed.

Bus rolled away.

Post-departure, she cracked the window quiet, peering back—only his back, receding lone.

Xu Miaoyan withdrew her gaze; bus sparse; opposite: young mom cradling babbling toddler.

Wind gusted, parting her bangs; girl’s features bared sudden to air.

Young mom glanced, face dawning awe-struck; the little girl, barely verbal, just big-eyed stared.

Wind died; Xu Miaoyan quietly resettled bangs, thick fringe re-veiling half her face.

Then, as countless years before, she sank into silence.