Chapter 14: The Great Debate About Identity

Having returned empty-handed, Ren Huazhi decided to treat herself.

She went to the sociology section downstairs and found a book she had recently become interested in, titled “Qigong and Frenzy: Science, Superstition, and Nationalism at the End of the Century.”

The title alone could deter 80% of people, and the rather academic content could deter another 10% of the curious. But Ren Huazhi was in the remaining 10%, possessing just the right combination of need for material, reading ability, and patience.

The commonality between qigong and the end of the century was that neither existed in Nancheng in the year 2025. This was a good thing; it meant times were progressing.

But now we have magical girls and Nightmares, and the shockwaves from their battles in the middle of the street are infinitely more real than the telekinesis one could master by wearing an iron pot on their head. This was not a good thing.

1985 and 2025, it’s hard to say which was luckier.

Ren Huazhi tucked the book under her arm and headed for the checkout counter.

“…Ah.”

She saw a familiar figure who, in theory, shouldn’t be here. The motion of her right foot extending came to an abrupt halt, and then she began to slowly reverse, retreating into the cover of the bookshelves.

“Is that you?” The other person was equally surprised.

The person standing there was Xia Kong.

On a Monday morning, two high school students, one of whom was even a model student council president, ran into each other outside of school.

Meeting the wrong person at the wrong time—this was probably what that meant.

“It’s you, isn’t it? From the shopping plaza yesterday—”

“Big sister, you’ve got the wrong person,” Ren Huazhi attempted a final, futile struggle.

“It’s definitely you! Your hair, voice, figure, and even the way you make excuses are exactly the same!”

“Uh.”

‘Could it be that I’m actually terrible at disguises?’ Ren Huazhi gave up resisting, thinking with a touch of despair.

She decided to strike first:

“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“The same question goes for you.”

“I’ve dedicated my life to creation. I’ve already collected too much material on school life, enough for me to write ten years’ worth of school-themed novels without repeating myself. There’s no point in continuing to go to school.”

In fact, real school life was much more boring than school-themed novels and could hardly provide any guidance for plot arrangement, just as no one would read a farming novel to watch the protagonist endlessly plow the same few acres of land every day.

…There probably wouldn’t be, right?

Ren Huazhi’s gaze shifted downwards, landing on the book in Xia Kong’s arms. It was a hardcover book with a gray-white cover.

“Tuesdays with Morrie.”

“The student council president is skipping class to borrow a leisure book?”

“So you know I’m the student council president,” Xia Kong tilted her head, looking at Ren Huazhi out of the corner of her eye. “You really are a student at Nancheng No. 1 High.”

“No, no, it’s your aura. I feel like you have a particularly upright and magnanimous aura, the very image of a student council president.”

“Flattering me won’t get you anywhere.”

“It’s all from the heart.”

Xia Kong suddenly closed the distance with the speed of a magical girl, reaching out like lightning to snatch the toy sunglasses Ren Huazhi was wearing indoors. Although Ren Huazhi also possessed the dynamic vision and reaction speed of a magical girl, she was too guilty to dodge, and let her succeed.

The good student, skipping class for the first time in her life, fell into deep thought before the gem-like emerald green eyes.

“She really does look like her… But if you’re a student at No. 1 High and know I’m the student council president, you must have been to the school before. I should have seen you long ago…”

Xia Kong frowned, troubled by the contradiction in her thoughts.

From her perspective, this was indeed inevitable: no matter how much she wracked her brain, she would never guess that the person who watched her inauguration as student council president from the audience last year was not the blonde girl in front of her, but an ordinary boy who no longer existed in this world (just like qigong and the end of the century).

After all, her own appearance didn’t change after transforming; she just dyed her hair and changed her clothes.

The feeling was very strange—

Because “Ren Huazhi knowing Xia Kong is the student council president” and “Ren Huazhi being The Flower Arranger” were actually two completely unrelated things. The former did not negate the latter.

Xia Kong could very well assume that Ren Huazhi had a friend at school who had shown her a photo of the student council election.

So, at the mall yesterday, Ren Huazhi recognized Xia Kong as the new student council president in the photo = the magical girl Mangzhong…

Huh?

Where was the strangeness? Didn’t that make perfect sense?

Xia Kong felt as if she had accidentally solved a difficult math problem with a shortcut. Looking at the answer she had written with her own hand, it felt a bit unreal. She widened her eyes and said with conviction:

“There is only one truth! You are—”

Ren Huazhi lunged forward and covered her mouth.

“Wait a minute, my lady, don’t shout in the library, and things are really not what you think.”

“Mmph, mmph.”

“You suspect that I’m the magical girl, The Flower Arranger, right?”

Nod, nod.

“If I say I’m just an ordinary hikikomori, you definitely won’t believe me. But what if I say, I actually have a hidden identity?”

Ren Huazhi let go of her hand. Xia Kong whispered in disbelief, “So you’re admitting it, you really are…”

“Actually, I’m a Kamen Rider.”

“Huh?”

The two of them stared at each other between the bookshelves.

“I’m not a magical girl, I’m a Kamen Rider. The kind that shouts ‘Henshin’,” Ren Huazhi repeated for emphasis.

“I understood you, I just didn’t process it.”

…Xia Kong was stunned.

It was like looking at a red fruit on the table and guessing it was an apple, only for the fruit to say, “I’m a strawberry.”

They weren’t even in the same category?!

Ren Huazhi’s eyes were incredibly clear and sincere. “I’m a Kamen Rider just recruited by Dr. Meng. If you don’t believe me, go ask her if she’s recently given out a transformation belt. She’ll definitely say yes.”

As for whether the person who received the belt was male or female…

Isn’t it obvious? Is there even a need to ask?

If Xia Kong didn’t ask, Meng Qiuxu wouldn’t say. The two of them would go their separate ways with completely different understandings, and that was the unspoken agreement among the members of the Magical Tea Party. Ren Huazhi knew this best.

“So that’s how it is… No wonder I saw the Doctor’s reply the day before yesterday. You were the one who defeated that humanoid Nightmare, right?”

“That’s right, that’s right.”

Ren Huazhi breathed a sigh of relief and extended her right hand to Xia Kong:

“I look forward to working with you, Senior Mangzhong.”

“Mm, feel free to rely on everyone. If there’s a chance, let me see how a Kamen Rider fights.”

“Next time for sure.”

So why did the model student Xia Kong skip class?

Ren Huazhi didn’t know, and she didn’t dare to ask.

She had a faint feeling that something had changed. Beneath Xia Kong’s still cheerful and opinionated exterior, the part that once held a certain person had been gouged out, leaving a bloody hole. That’s why she had come to borrow a book about life and death, love and family, on a weekday.

This was all Ren Huazhi’s fault.

But she would not apologize.