I immediately assumed he'd found out about the after-school incident. Anxiety knotted in my stomach—how was I supposed to explain myself?
After dinner, I waited a few minutes. When I saw Third Uncle head into his study, I took a deep breath and followed him inside.
His study was decorated in a traditional Japanese style—simple, austere, and serene. He sat down on a tatami mat, pressed a button, and a low square table rose smoothly from the floor. He pulled out a tea set and began preparing tea with practiced calm.
Once the tea was ready, he stood and walked over to me.
"Were you hurt?" he asked.
Puffed up with pride, I bragged, "Back in China, I trained in martial arts for a couple of years. Nothing serious."
WHAM!
Before I could finish, Third Uncle's foot slammed into my solar plexus. The force knocked me backward several steps before I crumpled onto the floor. It was infinitely stronger than Okamoto's knee—so powerful I couldn't even catch my breath. I lay there, clutching my stomach, coughing violently.
"Is this the best you've got, showing off in front of me?" he said coldly, then reached down and hauled me up.
I was completely dazed—stunned into silence. I hadn't started the fight; I'd been defending myself! Why did I deserve this?
"Sit," he ordered, guiding me back onto the tatami. I sat cross-legged, still reeling.
He settled across from me. The water had just come to a boil. He poured tea into two small cups—one for each of us.
"Do you even know what I do for a living?" he asked, eyes fixed on the steaming pot, not looking at me.
"It's… something to do with the yakuza, right?" I ventured hesitantly. After what Jixiang had implied earlier, I'd grown curious.
"Yes," he said plainly. "I'm in the yakuza. In Japan, organized crime is legal—so don't act so shocked. You've been here for over two months now, haven't you?"
I mentally checked the calendar. School started in April, and summer break was approaching. Japan had three major holidays—spring, summer, and winter—and spring break marked the start of the new academic year. "Yeah… a little over two months."
"I came to Japan with nothing—no family, no connections. Everything I have, I built with my own hands. I expect the same from you. Don't rely on others. Do you understand?" he said.
What did that mean? Was he criticizing me for calling Egawa and the bodyguards during the fight? Was this his way of shaming me? I couldn't make sense of it.
Seeing my silence, Third Uncle slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. "Japan isn't like China," he continued. "There, you've got parents, grandparents, or people who care about you—or at least care about your money. Here, it's all about independence. Don't expect me to clean up your messes."
He stripped off his shirt completely, revealing his bare torso—and froze me in place.
My jaw dropped.
Every inch of his body—except his hands and face—was covered in intricate, dense tattoos: dragons, tigers, bodhisattvas, swirling clouds, and bold Chinese characters. My hands trembled so badly I nearly spilled my tea.
"Don't be afraid," he said calmly, as if reading my mind. "Tattoos can't kill anyone." He sipped his tea leisurely.
At over forty, Third Uncle's physique was lean and hard—zero excess fat. It was rare for a man his age to maintain such discipline.
"Your only job right now is to get into a good university," he said firmly. "I don't want you getting tangled in unnecessary trouble. If anything happens, how am I supposed to face your parents? Be careful with your words and actions. Your future is in your own hands."
"Yes, Third Uncle… I understand," I murmured.
"Go back to your room," he said, raising his teacup in a quiet toast. "Review your studies."
I drained my cup in one gulp and left the study.
That night, lying in bed, I replayed his words in my head. The tattoos… they weren't just decoration. A classmate named Li Hao once mentioned that in Japanese yakuza circles, tattoos signify rank—the more ink, the higher your status. Third Uncle must be someone extremely high-ranking.
But what exactly did he do? Even if I asked, he'd never tell a kid like me. As I rubbed my sore stomach, wincing at the sharp sting, I lifted my shirt—and there it was: a bright red shoe print, perfectly outlined on my skin.
Damn… that hurts…
The next morning at breakfast, Third Uncle glanced at me and asked casually, "Feeling alright?"
I nearly choked on my rice. "Y-yes! Totally fine!" I quickly bowed my head and ate in silence.
On the walk to school, Jixiang wouldn't stop praising my "heroism." Asada Mai kept glancing at me with quiet admiration, her eyes soft and warm—making my heart flutter.
Suddenly, Jixiang clapped her hands. "Summer break's coming soon! Let's go on a trip! Brother Muzhou hasn't really seen Japan yet. What do you think, Mai?"
Asada blinked, then smiled. "Sure! I don't mind. Muzhou-kun, would you like to go?"
Like to go? I thought. I haven't even properly explored Tokyo—let alone dated a Japanese girl!
"But where should we go?" Jixiang turned to me eagerly. "Muzhou-nii, where do you think is fun?"
Truth was, in the past few months, I'd barely left a three-square-kilometer radius around Third Uncle's house—except for that one trip into central Tokyo. How the hell would I know Japan's best spots?
But I couldn't admit ignorance in front of them. I frantically scanned my mental map of Japan… and came up with only one name:
"Mount Fuji."
Seriously—that was literally the only famous Japanese landmark I could recall.
"How about… Mount Fuji?" I suggested, trying to sound confident. "I've never been. It's Japan's sacred mountain, right?"
Jixiang nodded. "Alright! Let's go to Mount Fuji!"
Asada Mai gave a small, polite smile—but I sensed a hint of reluctance. Maybe she'd expected something… less touristy?