Why Do All the Villains Look at Me Like This? - Chapter 6

Even though it was already late at night, no one at the Federation Military Academy was resting. The news that a starship had entered the school spread like wildfire. Everyone was speculating about who the person on the ship could be, almost guessing through all the S-rank students on campus.

Just as the discussions were at their most heated, Meng Xuexiao opened the door to the dormitory building and walked inside. The chatter immediately died down, as if everyone feared the very subject of their gossip would appear before them the next second. That would be way too awkward and could easily offend someone.

But when they saw it was Meng Xuexiao, the noise quickly returned to normal. Aside from his face, there was nothing about Meng Xuexiao that could be considered attention-grabbing. What’s more, the diligent students who specialized in gathering intel had long compiled a list of all the important figures, people who must not be provoked, complete with names and faces for easy identification.

Seeing this reaction, Meng Xuexiao was satisfied. He didn’t linger, heading straight toward his dorm room.

The furnishings inside were much the same as before. The only noticeable change was to Meng Xuexiao’s bed and desk. His neatly made bed now had a dirty suitcase dumped on top of it, with a half-finished tube of nutrient solution lying across it. The remaining liquid was dripping down along the tube, trailing over the suitcase’s edge and slowly dripping onto the floor.

Meng Xuexiao lunged forward and grabbed the suitcase. But instead of the cool hardness of metal, what met his hand was a greasy, slippery texture. The rust along the edges of the suitcase instantly smeared onto his fingertips, carrying with it a strange, unpleasant smell.

Meng Xuexiao’s temples throbbed. He let go as if shocked by electricity, letting the suitcase crash heavily to the floor.

With the obstacle out of the way, the condition of the bed sheet underneath was fully exposed. Aside from the rust stains left by the suitcase, he also saw a puddle of half-dried nutrient solution. The nutrient solution was a dirty yellow color. Where it had dripped onto the pure white sheet, it looked as if the fabric had grown mold, emitting a foul stench.

Fortunately, the blanket was still clean.

Meng Xuexiao grabbed the bed sheet and began dragging it off the bed. The sheet was large, and he had to tug forcefully. In the process, he accidentally kicked the nutrient tube that had fallen from the suitcase.

The slender bottle rolled across the floor, spinning once before coming to a stop, revealing the name printed on it: Xu Gao.

At the Federation Military Academy, meals were provided—they distributed nutrient solutions three times a day, and to avoid mix-ups, they printed the students’ names directly on the tubes.

Something clicked in Meng Xuexiao’s mind. He bent down and searched through the suitcase carefully. Finally, in one corner, he found a name carved with a laser knife: Xu Gao.

Applying the same method, he walked over to his desk. The messy textbooks that nearly covered the entire surface each had Xu Gao’s name written on them as well.

It seemed Xu Gao was certain he wasn’t coming back.

Meng Xuexiao smiled, his eyes curving gently, as if a glacier had begun to melt. He bent down and picked up the suitcase again, gathering the textbooks and nutrient tubes into his hands as well. These items were a bit too much for him to carry all at once, so he had to exert extra strength to lift them. As he strained, his school uniform shirt lifted slightly, revealing a small section of his arched waistline.

When he neared Xu Gao’s bed, Meng Xuexiao raised his arms, lifting everything even higher.

Silently, he counted in his heart, Three, two, one…

With a full burst of strength, he hurled all the items forward. The messy pile crashed heavily onto Xu Gao’s bed. One of the nutrient tubes shattered on impact, the remaining liquid inside mixing with shards of glass and soaking the entire bed.

Meng Xuexiao clapped his hands lightly, as if dusting off nonexistent dirt, then turned around without a backward glance and walked back to his own side.

…

Two hours later, the dormitory door was opened once again. From outside came Xu Gao’s grumbling voice, “What a waste of time! Spent forever down there gossiping and still couldn’t find out who it was that came back by starship!”

Lights-out had already passed, and the dormitory was shrouded in darkness. Xu Gao strode toward his bed with large, heavy steps and flopped down onto the mattress, only to let out a low, pained cry, “Damn it! Who the hell threw stuff all over the place?!”

The shards scattered across the bed tore a large gash in Xu Gao’s school pants, letting in the cold air and making his thighs tremble.

If he went to class tomorrow wearing this, he’d be laughed at by all the other students!

Frantically, he yanked off the school pants, only to be hit by a strong stench, the cheap artificial scent of the low-grade nutrient solution made his head spin. Xu Gao quickly pinched his nose.

He had only been out for a little while, had the dorm been robbed?! Unbelievable! No manners at all!

Xu Gao looked around the room. His gaze suddenly locked onto Meng Xuexiao’s bed. He didn’t even stop to think about where his suitcase had gone, because he noticed that the blanket, which should have been flat, was now slightly raised.

“Oh, great! Tossing my stuff everywhere and now daring to hog my bed too?” Xu Gao stormed over and yanked the blanket away.

Underneath, a boy was lying there, fast asleep. His hands were folded beneath one side of his face, his long eyelashes casting faint shadows across his cheeks. The slightly oversized pajamas draped loosely over his frame, the soft cotton fabric folding into gentle arcs, like the drooping wings of a white dove.

Harmless. Fragile.

“Plop.”

The strength drained from Xu Gao’s hand as he flung the blanket aside. It flopped down weakly, and along with it came a cold sweat breaking out over his body and the frantic pounding of his heart. His face turned deathly pale, staring at Meng Xuexiao as if he were looking at a ghost crawling out of hell.

Is this for real?! How could Meng Xuexiao still be alive?!

Just then, a faint rustling sound came from Meng Xuexiao’s side. Xu Gao jolted violently, like a startled hyena. But the other boy only turned over slightly, murmured a few indistinct words, and drifted back into sleep. Xu Gao still didn’t dare move, holding his breath in tense silence. He stood frozen for quite a while, only slowly approaching once he was sure Meng Xuexiao wasn’t going to stir again.

First, he stretched out two fingers and held them under Meng Xuexiao’s nose—a faint, but steady, warm breath brushed against his fingertips.

There was breathing.

Xu Gao then half-knelt on the ground, inching closer to the side of Meng Xuexiao’s bed, holding his breath again.

Sure enough, he could hear the sound of a beating heart.

Meng Xuexiao—was alive.

Xu Gao instantly calmed down. He grabbed a tissue, wiped the cold sweat from his face, and casually tossed it onto the floor. Then he simply squatted by Meng Xuexiao’s bedside. In the dim light, his shadow flickered on the wall from time to time, looking like some strange arthropod creature.

After escaping from the two kidnappers, Xu Gao had run all the way back to school. Naturally, he had no intention of fulfilling the promise he made to the kidnappers. The Federation Military Academy was a place of strict discipline, forget helping kidnappers abduct a student. Even just speaking of it would have been enough for the school authorities to expel him without mercy.

At that time, he had felt immensely relieved, because the two most critical witnesses, Shen Zekai and Meng Xuexiao, were already dead, and the two kidnappers wouldn’t go out of their way to expose the matter either.

But now, things had taken a serious turn.

Xu Gao’s entire face was shrouded in shadow, his eyes darker and more terrifying than ever, like sludge on the ground.

Meng Xuexiao, oh Meng Xuexiao—why did you have to still be alive?

…

The moment Meng Xuexiao opened his eyes the next morning, he was met with an extremely close-up face.

Xu Gao leaned in and smiled at him, looking quite cheerful, “You’re awake! I was just about to call you for breakfast.”

This interaction was just like when they had first entered school yesterday—harmonious, full of the warmth of dorm mates.

Meng Xuexiao glanced over at Xu Gao’s bed. The mess from last night had already been quietly cleaned up, without a single trace left behind. Xu Gao didn’t mention a word about what had happened,
as if the whole incident had never occurred at all.

If Meng Xuexiao hadn’t seen Xu Gao’s true colors so clearly the night before, he might have been fooled by this act too.

He casually responded with a sound, not intending to engage in any further conversation. At the same time, his back slowly leaned against the headboard, inch by inch, until he finally touched something solid behind him, only then did Meng Xuexiao feel even the slightest bit more at ease.

Even within the Federation Military Academy, there was no such thing as absolute safety. He had deliberately hidden a small knife inside his bedside cabinet beforehand.

Seeing his guarded posture, Xu Gao suddenly took a step forward. Meng Xuexiao’s hand shot out, grabbing the drawer. The cold handle of the knife was firmly gripped in his palm. The chill of the weapon seeped into his skin and bones.

However, in the next second, Xu Gao burst into laughter, then backed away, “Why so tense? I was just messing with you. Remember to get to class on time, don’t be late!”

He didn’t make a move. That earlier threat was probably just to scare him.

Meng Xuexiao’s tightly arched back slowly began to straighten. He had been so tense that his entire back felt stiff, and now, as he straightened up, he could even hear the creaking of his spine, like the gears of a machine.

The knuckles clutching the knife handle gradually loosened, leaving a fine mist of condensation on the cold iron from the warmth of his skin.

As new students, their schedules were packed with theoretical classes. Xu Gao didn’t stir up any trouble all morning, and time quickly slipped into the afternoon’s practical training session. The style of the practical class was completely different from the theoretical ones, not only was the classroom several times larger, but it was also filled with an atmosphere of stern killing intent.

The moment Meng Xuexiao stepped inside, he felt a massive shadow pressing down on him. It was an enormous mechanical construct, resembling a Transformer, or perhaps a Gundam. Just a single piece of its hand alone cast a deep, heavy shadow over Meng Xuexiao’s face.

If even one piece of that thing fell, it could probably smash him to death, he thought.

Mechas were one of the most commonly used combat weapons in the Federation. Ever since humanity entered the interstellar era, they had discovered that they were neither the only intelligent beings in the universe nor the ones with the strongest physiques or greatest physical prowess. Thus, they invented mechas, using machinery and technology to contend with far more powerful entities.

As a result, mecha operation classes were also a mandatory course at the Federation Military Academy.

Naturally, the school wasn’t about to provide top-grade mechas to newly enrolled rookies. Many of the older, more worn-out mechas were piled up in the warehouse, much like the way old yoga mats were once stuffed into the corners of Meng Xuexiao’s former gymnasium equipment room.

“All students will select their mechas based on their entrance exam scores for mecha operation,” the practical training instructor announced, holding a list and calling out names one by one.

Meng Xuexiao had failed the mecha operation exam when he entered, and with his unremarkable F-grade physique, it was only natural that he was left for last. The mechas that still looked halfway decent had already been picked clean by the other students, leaving only a single, old, rusted mecha behind.

Actually… from a distance, it didn’t seem that terrible. Maybe it just didn’t look good,  judging a mecha by appearances wasn’t right, after all. Still, it would be more accurate to call it an abandoned metal crate rather than a real mecha.

The instructor spoke, “Last one—Meng Xuexiao, go claim your mecha.”

Meng Xuexiao walked over to stand beside the mecha.

Thinking this, he reached out and tentatively touched the mecha’s arm.

“Ka-chunk.”

Several screws fell off from the mecha’s joint, and the entire mechanical arm stiffly collapsed downward. One of the screws even bounced onto Meng Xuexiao’s shoe, as if… delivering a silent mockery.

Meng Xuexiao, “……”

Maybe judging a mecha by its appearance wasn’t entirely wrong after all.

He stood there silently, staring at the broken-down mecha for a moment. The instructor, growing impatient, urged him, “Meng Xuexiao, hurry up and claim your mecha! The other students have already started basic training!”

“Right away,” Meng Xuexiao responded.

He bent down and began picking up the fallen screws one by one, stuffing them into his pocket, planning to screw them back in himself later.

As he reached out for the furthest screw, his fingertips brushed against the back of someone else’s hand. That person immediately grabbed Meng Xuexiao’s hand, the clammy, sweaty palm made Meng Xuexiao frown slightly. He instinctively curled his fingers, about to pull away by force, but the other person let go first.

Xu Gao let out a hearty laugh, pinching the screw between two fingers. While Meng Xuexiao was bent over, Xu Gao remained standing straight, creating a condescending angle between them.

Meng Xuexiao looked up, meeting Xu Gao’s still artificially friendly face.

Xu Gao placed the screw into Meng Xuexiao’s palm and said, “Here, your stuff. Better hold onto it, if you’re missing it and something goes wrong during training, that wouldn’t be good, would it?”

He spoke slowly and deliberately, each word landing with a discomforting weight.