That evening in the dorm, Mujin stood on Zhou Ruiyang's body, intently watching an anime on the computer. Zhou Ruiyang lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"Bro Yang, is this anime for you or your sparrow?" Hao Ren teased as he passed by to fetch water. "I feel like it's watching way more seriously than you are."

"Her watching it is the same as me watching it," Zhou Ruiyang replied.

"So all things are equal, huh? Fine. Having a girlfriend really upgrades a guy’s perspective," Hao Ren shot back.

The door closed. Zhou Ruiyang took a deep breath. After questioning Mujin about her absence earlier, she’d brushed him off with excuses like "hearing it from roommates." But it felt forced. He had no mind for anime now. His head spun with one thought: Were little Mujin and Mumu the same person?

Zhou Ruiyang began his mental argument. First, Mujin’s hair was brownish-yellow—just like Mumu’s. Second, Mujin could turn into a sparrow; Mumu vanished instantly near the classroom building. Both had weird abilities. Third, their names both carried "mu." Finally, they’d never appeared together. Case closed!

Of course, this was just Zhou Ruiyang’s internal hype. Without solid proof, he wouldn’t be certain. But Mujin’s past slip-ups and the mysterious Mumu were suspicious. Still, he couldn’t grasp why she’d hide it—or why she’d bother him with weird antics. She’d even confessed the sparrow thing. Turning into a girl should be easy, right?

He glanced at the fluffy sparrow. She was glued to the screen, stifling laughs at jokes until her eyes crinkled. His lips curled unconsciously. If that girl was Mujin… it might be more fun.

...

Mujin seemed absorbed in the anime, but all her senses were locked on Zhou Ruiyang behind her. She knew he was sharp. Her lies had left cracks—he must suspect something. Suspicion was inevitable. To cover one lie, you needed new ones. Eventually, one would collapse. As a murder mystery game regular, she knew this well. Last time, she’d been the killer. Her alibi overlapped with another player’s timeline—and she got busted on the spot. Reality wasn’t so black-and-white, though. She needed to prove her "innocence."

···The next day···

Zhou Ruiyang entered class. Jiang Kai in the front row called out, "Whoa, Bro Yang’s here! Was that you stepping out of the Lincoln yesterday?" Zhou Ruiyang met his eyes briefly, looked away, and grunted, "Hmm."

The words drew every gaze. "Zhou Ruiyang’s family owns a Lincoln??" Students’ eyes held four parts shock, three parts confusion, two parts flattery, one part envy. Surface-level. Underneath, pure jealousy. They chattered, but he ignored it, pulling out his books to study.

"Bro Yang, when did your family get a Lincoln?" Hao Ren asked, curious.

"Don’t listen to haters," Zhou Ruiyang said seriously.

"Pfft. A guy like you—who adds broth three times to instant noodles—getting a Lincoln’s as likely as meeting Abraham Lincoln himself." As his roommate, Hao Ren knew Zhou Ruiyang’s truth: orphaned, raised by a non-relative uncle on welfare. He’d arrived penniless, surviving on diner jobs. Only his top-student status waived tuition. He coded for small businesses—cheap but skilled—and sent most earnings to his uncle. His roommates didn’t know the full story. Zhou Ruiyang didn’t care about rumors, not even the "player" label Mumu had slapped on him. He believed truth would out.

After class, students scattered. Cramped in Zhou Ruiyang’s pocket, Mujin hopped onto his desk to stretch.

"Wow, Zhou Ruiyang, is this your pet bird?" Li Yaqi’s voice cut in. Zhou Ruiyang turned. She was short, twin-tailed, and normally indifferent—but rumors of his "hidden fortune" had sparked her curiosity. Could he be a secret tycoon?

"Yes."

"So cute! What’s her name?"

"Chirp."

Li Yaqi cooed, "Chirp~" and reached to poke Mujin. Mujin shot up, landing on Zhou Ruiyang’s shoulder.

"Strange. She doesn’t like being touched?"

"She allows it."

"Then why fly off when I tried?"

"She only lets me touch her."

"So she still won’t let others!"

Zhou Ruiyang raised an eyebrow. "Aren’t I human?"

Mujin’s eyes crinkled with silent laughter. Xiao Yang was such a hopeless straight man. Fair-skinned, tall, handsome—even broke, girls would chase him. But his blunt tongue and sharp jokes ruined it. Even Mujin, his three-year roommate, struggled with it.

"No, no! I didn’t mean that," Li Yaqi waved, switching topics. "I want a bird too. How’d you train hers to be so obedient?"

"I don’t train birds."

"Liar! She’s perfectly trained."

"I barely trained her. She’s naturally obedient—ah!" Zhou Ruiyang hissed as Mujin pecked his ear hard. Using her as a topic was bad enough—but treating her like a pet? If she didn’t give him ear piercings, he’d never learn how sharp a sparrow girl’s beak was.

"Haha… not that obedient after all," Li Yaqi giggled, covering her mouth.

"She’s willful," Zhou Ruiyang said, pinching Mujin gently and flicking her head.

"Chirp!" The little sparrow squeezed her eyes shut in pain.

Zhou Ruiyang, just you wait!