Chapter 8: Crisis of Identity Exposure!

Maybe I should have just sent her home directly. Though if I had, when she woke up she would surely notice something’s off.

But that’s better than having her misunderstand me. Even though she hasn’t said anything, I’m certain in her mind she’s thinking Ke Xin did something indecent or strange.

On her first day after transferring, something like this already happened. How am I supposed to get along in class now? According to Lu Qisi — the orange–hair girl sitting to Ke Xin’s right — Ruolin is somewhat isolated at school.

Other than the three people close to her, hardly anyone in class interacts with Ruolin. She rarely initiates conversation, even about homework.

So that means she probably won’t spread weird rumors around class — but I can’t guarantee she won’t talk to the other three in “F4” and spin her misunderstandings into something even wilder.

If they do more “creative editing” and spread it, who knows how distorted the final story will be.

Take Huan as an example—this is an all-girls school. If people find out I like girls… well, it’s true in a sense, but me—as a girl—would be considered something strange by others.

I don’t even know who came up with the idea of “sleeping in the same bed as someone you just met.” I can’t believe I didn’t realize how sketchy that looks last night.

Sigh.

Thinking of that, Ke Xin couldn’t help but sigh.

“Why look so glum? And sighing too.”
The orange‑haired girl asked immediately.

“Nothing—just that, my life might already be over.”
Ke Xin laid her head down on the desk and mumbled that, so softly one might not catch what she said.

“Suddenly saying something like that—did something huge happen?”
Ke Xin remained silent, her gaze locked on the back of the girl sitting in front.

Lu Qisi looked between Ke Xin’s face full of despair and Ruolin sitting perfectly straight with stiff posture, then nodded slightly in understanding. “Oh—I see now.”

“See what?”

“Don’t worry at all.”
Qisi motioned for Ke Xin to scoot closer and whispered: “Actually, dating classmates is pretty common in this school.”

Dating in school was of course common—but wait, that sounded off.

“!!!”

Ke Xin snapped back to attention. Is this something you can really say? And Qisi’s words “pretty common” implied… what exactly?

The agency had told her this was a normal school — just all-girls, nothing special.

“Of course I’m joking.”
“I knew it.”
“But I do get letters like these in my drawer sometimes.”

Qisi slid her hand into her desk drawer and pulled out a stack of envelopes. At first glance, they looked like ordinary white letters, but on closer inspection they had decorations and hand‑drawn hearts.

“Could these be—”
She nodded, then held up her hands in a mild “what can I do” gesture: “I don’t know why, but they just keep getting inserted. I don’t even know how to respond.”

Rather than feeling sympathy, Ke Xin felt she was showing off—like those social media types bragging they got asked out by girls.

Boring. Absolutely boring.

“What I mean is, people here are pretty open-minded. No big deal at all.”

For Lu Qisi, that was indeed true.

Ke Xin glanced at Qisi from the corner of her eye. She was 167 cm tall. In a southern city like Muzhou, that’s not extremely tall, but she exceeded many peers. And by Ke Xin’s original male aesthetic, Qisi’s proportions were just right — everything in the right places.

“Hey—is Miss Ke Xin also interested in me?”
Qisi noticed the wandering gaze and tilted her mouth in a teasing grin.

“Shut up, no interest.”
Maybe because they’d known each other some time now, Ke Xin wasn’t polite at all with Qisi.

The chat before class ended quickly. Just before the class bell rang, the teacher walked in, and everyone quieted down.

After the first period, the previous topic seemed completely gone. Ke Xin and Qisi chatted casually about whether there were any good snack shops nearby.

“You know, there used to be a café near the school. Cheap and decent desserts, but it’s been closed since the new semester started.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah.”

If you didn’t know they were magical girls, this’d seem like a totally ordinary conversation.

Ke Xin was waiting for Ruolin to speak to her, because she really cared. But Ruolin was patient — she didn’t even glance once in her direction. It seemed better to just let it slide. Even if “misunderstanding” existed, as long as she didn’t connect it to magical girls, it’d be okay.

By the time school ended, nothing had changed. Maybe Ruolin had decided not to overthink this. That was the best outcome.

After the final class, most of the class left with laughter and talk, heading to club rooms. The clubs’ rooms were next to the academic buildings, in the student activity center.

Ke Xin hadn’t joined any club yet. She could walk in under “just visiting” and see what they did — generally if a member explained, she could join.

But she needed to go to her regular training first, and she still didn’t know when she’d be assigned a tutor.

“Have you heard? Someone in Dongzhuang Garden was murdered.”
Just as Ke Xin was packing up to head to the Special Investigation Bureau’s headquarters, the blonde girl a row away spoke up.

She lowered her voice, but Ke Xin’s sharp ears caught it.

A murder — even in the East Asian Federation, where public safety is good — is still possible. Violent crimes still happen, often requiring Bureau intervention.

But when someone in F4 says it, it’s never just simple.

“I heard the person was cut in half at the waist. Only the lower half was left on scene.”
The girl beside described it with a slash motion.
“Eek, no need to be that graphic.”
Liu Yumeng stood on tiptoe and tried to cover her mouth — but the other girl kept going.

“But I don’t think that’s something a regular human could do. The cut in the pictures is cleaner than what’s done on practice mats.”
“Is it an anomaly—?”
Ruolin voiced what everyone was thinking. Then she turned toward Ke Xin.

In that moment, Ke Xin felt like her heart stopped.
“Is something wrong, Ruolin?”
“Ke Xin, would you like to help with the investigation?”
“Ah?”

“Has my identity been exposed?”