Late at night, the street food stall at the neighborhood entrance was still bustling.
The owner had watched the kid polish off two heaping plates of topped rice and couldn’t hide his shock.
“This child never used to eat like that. Did he run the eight hundred meters today or something?”
Shang Xi’s appetite had exploded for once, but he still wasn’t satisfied.
He glanced at his dad and ventured, “I want ten oysters.”
Shang Heping waved a hand grandly. “Boss, grill up twenty! If he can’t finish them, I’ll take care of the rest!”
Once the owner had headed to the kitchen, Shang Xi finally flipped open the folder and pored over those documents for the third time.
It was like staring at some abstract, content-free exhibit at a comic con.
He’d lived in Shengzhou for sixteen years. Sure, he traveled with his parents now and then, but studying in Hangzhou had never crossed his mind.
…Zhejiang’s Hogwarts was out in the Hangzhou suburbs, under closed management. Graduates even got guaranteed placements in state jobs.
It wasn’t funny at all. What kind of nonsense was this?!
For no reason at all, Shang Xi looked up at his parents and scooted his chair closer to them.
A strange yet warm sense of attachment rippled through his heart, spreading slowly.
Luo Suhe gently ruffled the top of his head.
“You don’t need to feel any pressure. We’re just going to check it out. If you don’t like it, we can forget about it.”
“I hear they have double or quad rooms there—way better conditions than a regular high school,” Shang Heping said after a moment’s thought. “Maybe they’re worried about kids accidentally eating their classmates?”
Luo Suhe shot him a glare.
The family arrived in the Hangzhou suburbs that Saturday.
Dawn Star Experimental Middle School was in a pretty remote spot, but there was a bustling residential and commercial district nearby, complete with a lively snack street that stayed busy even during the day.
Shang Xi took a few steps, then suddenly stopped.
“Are you feeling unwell?” Shang Heping pulled a blanket from his bag. As he rummaged, the back of his finger brushed something else. He hesitated but didn’t pull it out.
“Should we head back to the car and rest first?”
“There’s a military base nearby,” the boy said. “I can hear planes landing, and there’s loud drill practice going on.”
The couple exchanged a glance, both feeling uneasy.
Things had spiraled far beyond what they’d expected.
“Look on the bright side—your abilities and talents will be put to good use by the state,” Shang Heping said. “Your dad is honestly a little jealous.”
Shang Xi looked at them, at a loss for words.
He felt like his parents had spoiled him rotten long ago. He had no grand ambitions—just living a plain, happy life was enough for him.
Dawn Star Experimental Middle School sprawled across an enormous campus, even more imposing than the aerial photos in the brochure.
A receptionist led them on a slow tour. “The school covers elementary, middle, and high school divisions. A few students take the Gaokao to advance, but most sign confidentiality agreements and get guaranteed spots at universities based on their specialties, or they head straight to military units and other organizations for training and development.”
As she spoke, a fighter jet streaked overhead.
“If you’re concerned about your child’s academic credentials, rest assured—our top-tier university admission rate is 92%. Some students, thanks to their exceptional gifts, even go straight through bachelor’s, master’s, and PhD programs.”
Shang Heping listened in surprise.
His own kid had turned into a little sparrow, and at first glance, the future looked uncertain—but now the paths seemed to be opening wider?
The teaching buildings formed a ring, giving off a grand, elegant vibe like ancient Greek architecture.
Passing by classrooms, they could hear the clear voices of students reading aloud. The atmosphere for learning was excellent.
“That’s the Laboratory Building over there, and that one’s the cafeteria,” the receptionist continued. “Thanks to policy support, all our instructors are gold-medal competition winners. Parents are welcome to join cloud classes anytime and learn alongside the kids.”
Shang Heping suddenly asked, “Your Experimental Middle School doesn’t use the children for experiments, does it?”
Luo Suhe looked at the receptionist with clear worry—she’d clearly been mulling this over for a while.
The receptionist didn’t take offense and replied calmly, “Please follow me this way.”
They passed through an arched corridor and came upon a vast open area that should have held a sports field and running track.
~~~
Instead, there were rivers, mountains, forests, swamps, and caves.
It was like a slice of fantasy magic. Half the school consisted of sleek, modern teaching facilities; the other half encompassed tropical, temperate, and frigid climate zones, along with nearly every terrain imaginable.
“Students spend half their time advancing their human education and the other half learning to coexist with their instincts and habits, channeling their talents into human professions.”
“These courses are still in the exploratory phase—an ongoing experiment in education, constantly refined through trial and error.”
Shang Xi observed it all coolly for a moment.
“I’ve seen this one before. Zootopia.”
The receptionist smiled and gestured for the parents to look at the instructors and the birds soaring overhead through the forest canopy.
“Snake Descendant students who fully develop their abilities and pass qualification exams in areas like deep caves or underwater environments can be guaranteed placements in fields like geology, energy, or archaeology—helping the nation break through key bottlenecks.”
“Feather Descendant students have a natural advantage—one that’s probably even more intuitive,” the receptionist said, turning to Shang Xi with a gentle smile. “You might really enjoy the flying classes.”
Shang Xi replied, “So far, it’s just my parents insisting that I’m a bird.”
The receptionist instinctively glanced down at his ankles.
The rest of the procedures dragged on for quite a while.
There were parent Q&A sessions, mentor meet-and-greets, explanations of the academic system and credit points, tours of sample classes, and more.
Shang Xi hated these cookie-cutter segments. Muttering something about needing to hit the campus shop, he slipped out of the lecture hall.
He had no idea where he was headed.
He just couldn’t stand aimlessly floating along with a fate that felt all too predestined.
The school was massive. Every so often, he passed bulletin boards or graffiti walls plastered with bold, tongue-in-cheek slogans.
‘No eating classmates’
‘No taking classmates skyward’
‘Disturbing a classmate’s molt: two weeks in solitary’
…
Someone had scrawled a line of tiny text next to them.
‘But teacher, my desk mate really smells tasty’
Shang Xi considered it coolly.
In his transformed state, he’d probably rank as a mere little cracker around here.
Little Cracker felt pretty glum about his future prospects.
He wandered in circles until he reached a swing set tucked in some forgotten corner. He sat there scrolling on his phone for a bit, then just stared into space.
Transferring schools was probably unavoidable.
At a normal high school, he might doze off for a nap and turn into a bird—leaving Mom and Dad to show up with a butterfly net.
But studying in a madhouse like this…
The boy’s ear tips twitched. He caught the faintest scraping sound.
Scales rasping over grit. Something was wriggling through a narrow crevice.
Pretending to stay lost in thought, he flicked his eyes toward the noise.
A reptile was emerging.
…That sinuous neck curve looked an awful lot like a cobra.
Shang Xi went rigid. Bolting now would be awkward. So would staring.
Sensing human presence nearby, the snake paid it no mind and kept slithering out of the gap. Moments later, it dragged a soft blanket and school uniform from the bushes and wriggled inside.
The next instant, a lean, lanky boy rose slowly to his feet—buck naked.
His spine cut a sharp, straight line, his skin pallid and bloodless, pale enough to trace the veins beneath.
Lithely muscled from wrists to hips, he had the kind of build that belonged on a runway.
Shang Xi couldn’t fake zoning out anymore. He just stared.
The guy knew he had an audience. Only after buttoning up his uniform and knotting his tie did he turn languidly, his voice icy and edged with irritation.
“Never seen someone ditching class to scroll the web?”
Shang Xi was eyeing his face.
Handsome, sure—but radiating menace.
His true form was a cobra. There were no glasses in sight.
His bad temper was obvious.
He was an internet addict, too.
“Cat got your tongue?” the guy prodded.
Shang Xi nodded.
Cobra senior’s eyes narrowed. Too lazy for more questions, he sauntered off.
By the time Shang Xi made it back to the academic building, his parents were dragging him off to meet his potential mentor.
“Xi Xi, this place is fantastic. Modular scheduling—no rigid homerooms like your old school. One mentor oversees a group of a dozen students or so.”
“If you transfer in, Professor Zhou here will handle your course picks, job guidance, day-to-day stuff. Come on, say hello?”
The kid beamed sweetly. “Hi, Professor Zhou! Thanks for looking after me!”
The professor nudged his glasses up, beaming with approval. “What an obedient little guy. Adorable!”
The couple had absorbed a day’s worth of wild tales by now. Facing Professor Zhou felt like coming up for air.
“Professor, we’re just scared he won’t be safe or happy at school. But with his… condition, regular schools are risky too.”
“No rush to enroll him. Let the boy decide for himself.” The professor turned, spotting a student there to grab some papers. “Let me introduce my two star pupils. Both sophomores—one’s got the riot squad and med school duking it out for him, the other’s already published in a C Journal.”
Luo Suhe cleared her throat. Shang Xi flashed his trademark dazzling grin on cue.
“Hello, Senior Brother! Hello, Senior Sister—”
Senior Sister smiled back warmly. “Hi there. Welcome aboard, new face.”
Senior Brother drawled with lazy indifference, “Little mute’s got pipes, huh.”
Professor Zhou blinked. “You two know each other?”
Shang Xi’s smile evaporated. Without missing a beat, he declared, “Teacher, I saw him crawling through a hole to skip class and surf the net.”
Professor Zhou’s smile turned to stone. He snatched up the papers and laid into the young man with the plastic folder—whap, whap, whap.
“Fu Congxiao! Fu Congxiao! All that talent! Squandered on ditching and doomscrolling! You smoking too?! Huh?!”
The parents traded looks and visibly relaxed.
Strict was good. No pretentious airs—this teacher genuinely cared. Way better than the phonies who just went through the motions.
The figure who seemed like the school bully drew in a deep breath. While the professor continued chatting with the parent, he mouthed to Shang Xi.
“You’re done for.”
Shang Xi gloated.
If I transfer here, I’ll watch you every day to make sure you don’t skip class.
Nothing else—just like seeing a delinquent get his comeuppance.
Professor Zhou turned his head, and the little one offered a troubled smile, his head bowed as he said, “Teacher, it seems like the senior doesn’t like me.”
Professor Zhou enunciated every word clearly. “Fu Congxiao, are you scaring your classmate again?!”
The latter’s face twitched. Too lazy to explain, he turned and stalked off.
Fu Congxiao’s expression was thunderous as he strode away swiftly, kicking up a breeze in his wake. Students nearby recognized him at once and instinctively kept well clear.
Everyone who looked at him did so with fear laced with disgust.
Now and then, one of his rowdy cronies would spot him and let out a whistle in greeting.
Fu Congxiao gave a slight nod but didn’t break stride.
It was only at the stairwell that he finally spoke, his voice low. “What’s your problem? How long do you plan to tail me?”
The youth beamed at him. “Are you mad?”
Fu Congxiao glowered, wondering what the hell was wrong with this pint-sized pest.
Shang Xi pulled out a waterproof bandage and held it up.
“Stinky-Faced Senior, why are you covered in wounds like that?”
Fu Congxiao stared at him for two seconds, snatched the bandage, and kept walking.
None of your damn business.
