Third Uncle said that if I was ready, I could start school as early as tomorrow—or wait a few more days if I preferred. I'd be staying at his house.
Eager to show my enthusiasm for learning, I quickly replied, "Let's start tomorrow."
"Good," he said. "Jixiang will show you to your room. If there's anything else you need, just let me know, and I'll have your Third Aunt prepare it."
I simply smiled and nodded in agreement.
Jixiang immediately led me to my bedroom, giving me a tour and explaining everything—especially what to expect at school. She handed me my uniform, telling me that Third Aunt had already prepared all the necessary clothing and supplies.
After showing me in, she closed the door gently and said goodnight.
Alone on the bed, my mind wandered endlessly—thinking of my parents and relatives back home, the girl I once had a crush on, and fantasizing about what tomorrow might bring.
I woke up early the next morning and put on the school uniform—completely different from the sporty tracksuits we wore in China. It resembled a black Zhongshan-style suit, paired with a separate set of athletic wear for P.E. class. Jixiang had reminded me to bring both, mentioning that each student had their own locker at school.
After washing up, I found Third Aunt had already prepared breakfast. Jixiang was also dressed in her uniform—the exact kind you'd see in those infamous Japanese "educational" videos.
I shook my head sharply and scolded myself inwardly: "You beast! Stop picturing those scenes!" Thankfully, thanks to my strong moral compass (and respect for familial ethics), I managed to suppress that… uh, surge of adolescent restlessness.
When Third Aunt saw me, her eyes lit up. Clutching a spoon dramatically, she gushed, "Wow, Muzhou-kun, you look so handsome! Tall, dashing—who knows how many girls you'll make swoon at school? You remind me so much of your uncle when he was young… Ah, it brings back memories!"
…
All I could do was chuckle awkwardly and mutter, "Nah, not really."
Third Uncle soon joined us, exchanged greetings, and we sat down to eat.
Over breakfast, he said, "Muzhou, your official school name here in Japan will be Andō Muzhou. If you don't like it, you can change it—even the surname is flexible."
Instantly, cartoon characters flashed through my mind: Hanamichi Sakuragi? Kaede Rukawa? Tachibana Taro? But then I thought better of it—no need to stir up trouble—so I just nodded and said, "It's fine."
After breakfast, Jixiang called for me to head to school, adding that Asada Mai would be coming with us too.
The school was just over a kilometer from Third Uncle's house, so we walked.
Asada Mai—the same girl who'd greeted me at the airport—was already waiting by the front gate.
If I were to rank all the women I'd encountered in my life so far, she might not be number one—but she certainly held significant weight in my heart. Despite being Japanese, her presence stirred something in me. Standing beneath a cherry blossom tree, her slightly baby-faced features framed by the classic school uniform, she looked shyly in my direction. In that moment, I couldn't help but recall a line from Xu Zhimo's poem we'd studied in middle school:
"That gentle bow of yours—
Like a water lily trembling in the cool breeze."
But honestly… well, you know exactly what I was really thinking about.
Through Jixiang's introduction, I learned that Asada Mai lived right next door—in the neighboring estate—and that her family owned a major Japanese electronics manufacturing company.
I greeted her in my terribly clumsy Japanese.
She responded with a soft, constant smile—utterly devoid of the arrogance you'd expect from a wealthy heiress.
It didn't take long before we arrived at Keitoku High School—a fairly prestigious institution. According to Jixiang, it was "a gathering place for spoiled rich kids and gold-diggers." Our Chinese-speaking class was even wilder—a chaotic group of about thirty students.
I assumed Asada Mai wouldn't be in our class since she wasn't Chinese, but because she and Jixiang were such close friends, she'd voluntarily transferred in.
Since Third Uncle had already spoken with the teacher, I was personally welcomed by him—a fellow Chinese national. He advised me plainly: "Try not to draw too much attention or get into trouble here. Just keep your head down, study hard, and getting into university won't be difficult."
Hearing that, I relaxed a little. Do I really look that unruly? I wondered.
With the teacher's approval, I ended up seated between two girls: Jixiang in front of me, and Asada Mai to my right. Oh—and just to clarify: Japanese high schools don't have "deskmates." Everyone sits at individual desks. To my left? A wall.
Thus arranged, the three of us entered Class 3 of the Chinese-speaking program.
I followed Jixiang into the classroom.
The previously noisy room fell dead silent the moment we stepped in. Every eye turned toward us.
At first, I smugly assumed my entrance had stunned them into silence—until I realized they weren't looking at me. They were staring at Jixiang. The moment they saw her, they scrambled back to their seats, whispering and pointing discreetly at me.
I noticed an immediate shift in Jixiang the moment she entered the classroom—her demeanor turned cold and elegant, almost intimidating.
Asada Mai, by contrast, became even more demure and well-behaved.
Puzzled, I glanced at her.
She quickly gave a tiny frown, then offered a small, apologetic smile—as if to say, "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."
Looking at that adorable face… Ugh! Damn those Japanese "educational" videos—they've ruined even innocent friendships for me… Sigh.
And so began my senior year in Japan.
I met plenty of new classmates from all corners of China.
With Asada Mai's help, my Japanese gradually improved. Setting aside nationality, she was, without a doubt, the most patient girl I'd ever met—thoughtful, gentle, and always speaking in that soft, soothing voice.
My feelings for her grew stronger by the day.
As for my "sister" Jixiang? In my eyes, she suffered from full-blown split personality: at home, she was as sweet and docile as Asada Mai; at school, she ruled like a queen—no one dared cross her.
But just because no one in the Chinese class dared mess with her… didn't mean the Japanese boys wouldn't try.