Chapter 11

Father Shen and Mother Shen were far away overseas. They were usually pretty laid-back, but when it mattered, they were quite reliable. Upon hearing that Shen Yu had fallen ill, they promptly called in a trustworthy family doctor.

The doctor rushed to the apartment in the middle of the night. Shen Yu’s limbs were ice-cold, and he had no strength left in his body. He was utterly exhausted. That evening, he had started running a low fever, his head throbbing and foggy, feeling as if his entire body was filled with heavy, sticky lead water.

Shen Yu kept his eyes tightly shut, curling up into a ball under the covers in a daze.

In his hazy state, Shen Yu felt a sharp prick on the back of his hand. He pried open his heavy eyelids and saw the familiar needle. An IV bag hung by the bed, and the cold liquid dripped through the tube, seeping bit by bit into his vein.

Cold—

Shen Yu curled up tighter. He was too sleepy, too tired, too desperate for rest. After just one glance, he couldn’t help but close his eyes again and sink into deep sleep. As time passed, light and shadows shifted layer by layer. The night gave way to another day.

Sunlight from the window swept over Shen Yu’s sleeping face. During this time, the family doctor changed the medication several times, moving with great care to avoid waking him.

When Shen Yu finally woke, it was already late the next night. The fever had subsided, and the doctor had left at some point, leaving various antipyretics and stomach medicines on the bedside table, neatly labeled with dosages and uses.

Shen Yu lay quietly on the bed. In that instant, a profound sense of loneliness and helplessness surged toward him from all directions.

Shen Yu sat up from the bed, his face pale, looking as if he had lost a significant amount of weight all at once.

He lifted his head and stared silently out the pitch-black window for a very, very long time— so long that the sky on the horizon began to lighten with a pale glow. Only when the light filtered through his fingers did he stir.

In the full light of the room, Shen Yu snapped back to awareness. He belatedly looked up at the sky above Shang Capital City, hazy and indistinct, neither real nor fake.

“So, this is Shang Capital City?”

007: 【……】

Shen Yu: 【Get serious and play along. This is a key turning point I planned for the original body’s character arc.】

Three days later, his medical leave expired, and Shen Yu’s illness had mostly recovered.

He finally understood why Zhou Jinsheng either didn’t take leave at all or took several days off in a row when he did. The feeling of others attending classes while he rested was simply too good— it even sparked an urge to keep taking extended leaves.

After replying to the concerned messages on his phone, Shen Yu turned it off and stepped into the classroom as the preparatory bell rang.

Since Zhou Jinsheng hadn’t attended classes for a long time, and Shen Yu had just taken sick leave, he didn’t react at first when he suddenly spotted the familiar figure by the window.

Why had he suddenly come back to class?

Shen Yu silently shifted his gaze away and returned to his seat.

His desk mate thoughtfully stacked up the homework from the past few days and pushed it toward Shen Yu, a flicker of an indecipherable emotion in his eyes. He whispered to Shen Yu, “No need to thank me. I already sorted it all out for you.”

Looking at the thick stack of test papers in front of him, Shen Yu replied with difficulty, “……Thanks.”

Jingyang Clubs’ activities were concentrated every afternoon.

The Archery Dojo was right next to the Tennis Club, and the two clubs shared a changing room. The Tennis Club had already let out.

After finishing club activities, Shen Yu showered and changed out of his clothes in the changing room, planning to head back to the classroom to pack up and go home.

Shen Yu left rather late. Just as he exited the changing room, he saw several boys in archery uniforms with their backs to him, pulling arrows from the targets. The archery targets were densely packed straw bundles— easy to shoot into, hard to pull out.

No one wanted to handle this tedious, thankless chore. The club usually left it to the new recruits, calling it “tempering.”

Logically, Shen Yu, being a recent joiner, should have been one of them. But the club president, considering Shen Yu was an exchange student who wouldn’t be around for long, hadn’t assigned it to him.

Shen Yu was about to leave when he heard a familiar voice.

Someone yanked out an arrow in frustration, eyeing the pile of seven or eight arrow-stuck straw targets at his feet. He couldn’t hold back and cursed, “Fuck, just the three of us? How long is this gonna take?”

The person beside him said sarcastically, “Blame it on us not having connections like some people do with the club president.”

The quiet, low-key boy with no presence kept his head down silently pulling arrows. Upon hearing this, he murmured softly, “You mean Shen Yu?”

The guy replied, “Who else?”

The boy pursed his lips, his eyes— hidden behind bangs and black-rimmed glasses— flickering darkly. He quietly steered the conversation, “Maybe it’s not because of the club president.”

“Then who?”

The boy mumbled, “……Zhou Jinsheng.”

At that name, the sarcastic buzz-cut guy immediately showed disdain in his eyes and sneered, “Him? Climb onto Zhou Jinsheng? He puts on this holier-than-thou act on the surface, but no one buys it. Even if he grovels like a dog, no one’s taking him. Didn’t you see that School Forum post? Got beaten till he bled and still came crawling back.”

The initially complaining guy was gathering the pulled arrows when he noticed the figure standing nearby and looked over.

One glance, and he jumped— it was the subject of their talk. His face stiffened, and he coughed pointedly a few times. Seeing the buzz-cut guy getting cruder, he urgently bumped his shoulder.

“What the fuck, why’d you bump me—”

The buzz-cut guy yanked an arrow hard from the target and tossed it aside. As he stood, he spotted Shen Yu standing there. A flash of embarrassment crossed his face.

Shen Yu lowered his gaze, the hallway wind lifting his black hair. His face showed no expression.

The boy with black-rimmed glasses looked over too. Upon seeing Shen Yu, his pupils contracted sharply, freezing him in place like he was nailed down.

Cheng Yitan’s entire shoulder tensed into a fragile, straight line.

He bowed his head, clenched his fist, and awkwardly avoided Shen Yu’s gaze.

The buzz-cut guy recovered first and snarled viciously at Shen Yu, “What’re you looking at? You can do it, but others can’t talk about it—”

“Thwack—”

A spinning tennis ball suddenly flew straight from the side, smashing into the speaker’s abdomen before bouncing away, showing just how hard it was thrown.

Intense pain exploded in his gut. The buzz-cut guy doubled over, his face turning white instantly. He was about to flare up when he looked up, saw who it was, and his arrogance extinguished like poured cold water, replaced by extreme terror:

“Zhou, Zhou Jinsheng—”

Shen Yu turned around.

At the junction of the tennis court and archery field, Zhou Jinsheng had appeared at some point— no one knew when or how long he’d been there.

Zhou Jinsheng sat on the Tennis Club’s rest bench with his legs spread wide outward, exuding dominance as he leisurely watched the people on the field.

His gaze was very calm.

Yet no one dared speak.

The entire gym fell deathly silent, the atmosphere stagnant.

Shen Yu looked over.

Under the lights, the tall youth’s features were sharp and striking, extraordinarily handsome.

A basket beside him was filled to the brim with tennis balls. Zhou Jinsheng reached in, grabbed one, and tossed it up and down idly.

In the bright indoor light, the bright yellow ball was like a suspended heart— thrown high into the air, then steadily caught in his palm.

Zhou Jinsheng raised a brow and swung his arm, smashing the tennis ball forward.

The ball flew straight again.

“Bam—”

Everyone’s hearts jumped in fright, fear surging as they instinctively dodged. But the ball didn’t hit anyone— it slammed into a straw target, then rolled to the edge of Cheng Yitan’s sneaker.

The three let out a breath of relief and hesitated, “Young Master Zhou…”

Zhou Jinsheng’s gaze swept over the ball on the ground, his voice calm: “Pick it up.”

No one knew what Zhou Jinsheng was thinking, let alone his intentions. Faced with his command, people like them— without background or power— lacked the courage to resist, no matter what he intended.

But the situation clearly spelled trouble.

The ball was closest to Cheng Yitan, and the others obviously thought the same, relaxing inwardly as they pushed the responsibility with their eyes, signaling him to pick it up.

Cheng Yitan caught their meaning. He lowered his lashes and silently bent down, his slender fingers picking up the ball from the floor.

Zhou Jinsheng slightly lifted his chin, indicating the other two boys: “Aim it at them.”

The words dropped, plunging the air into dead silence.

The two boys were stunned. Wh-what?

In just a few short sentences, he shattered their camaraderie and toyed with them completely.

Cheng Yitan’s heart bled. His fingers gripped the ball tighter and tighter until his palm ached from the pressure.

Seeing Cheng Yitan clutching the ball tightly with no reaction, Zhou Jinsheng tilted the corner of his mouth, licked his dry lips, and leaned back against the chair. “What’s wrong? Used to backstabbing others? Now that real power and weapons are in your hands, you hesitate?”

Unclear which word struck his desk mate’s nerve, but suddenly, the tennis ball flew straight toward Zhou Jinsheng—

Then—

It hit the metal chair beside him.

The ball bounced back pitifully, rolling to Zhou Jinsheng’s shoe.

Zhou Jinsheng paused, then chuckled.

It was a light laugh, not loud, but the dismissive tone made it feel utterly mocking and contemptuous.

Zhou Jinsheng lost interest, shoved his hands in his pockets, and slowly stood from his seat.

He strode to Shen Yu’s side and, before the other could react, grabbed his school uniform sleeve and dragged him away.

Even at a time like this, he didn’t forget his germaphobia.

The holly trees rustled, warm damp wind blowing through countless branches, surging like ocean waves, layer upon layer.

Under the continuous tree shade, they reached the end.

Zhou Jinsheng released Shen Yu’s hand, and the two stopped, one in front of the other.

From hearing his desk mate’s voice to being pulled away by Zhou Jinsheng, Shen Yu hadn’t said a word.

Perhaps his aura really didn’t fit with Jingyang?

Shen Yu felt deeply struck. Moments later, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a few tissues, and flicked them into the air.

Shen Yu looked up at Zhou Jinsheng. “Got a lighter?”

Light passed through the thin paper, outlining the printed patterns like golden threads.

Zhou Jinsheng pulled out his lighter and handed it over. With a “click,” the flame leaped to life. Shen Yu lit the tissues.

The tissues melted like milk foam piled at the rim of a cup under the sunlight, turning into a pile of ash on the ground.

Zhou Jinsheng asked him, “What are you doing?”

Shen Yu’s face scrunched up. He grabbed a broom from nearby trash can, swept the ashes clean, and tidied everything up. Hearing the question, he snapped irritably, “Burning some paper money for myself. That way, after I die, I won’t have to deal with all this bullshit. Work you all to death.”

Zhou Jinsheng froze.

His eyes moved sluggishly twice before he caught on, then burst into helpless laughter.

Hearing Zhou Jinsheng’s mocking laugh, Shen Yu grew even more sullen. He chucked the lighter back at him, his expression turning cold and distant. “I’m serious. What’re you laughing at?”

After cursing him out, Shen Yu ignored Zhou Jinsheng’s presence entirely and flopped down spread-eagled on the nearby bench.

He silently tilted his head back to gaze at the branches overhead, then at the sky beyond.

The branches were the veins of the sky, turning it into the ground for flying birds.

Zhou Jinsheng swiftly caught the hard-thrown lighter. His smile stiffened as he pocketed it, his fingers idly tracing its rough edges in his pocket until the recently flamed metal tip cooled from warm to tepid.

Shen Yu said nothing.

After a moment of silence, Zhou Jinsheng withdrew his hand and brushed a fallen leaf off his shoulder.

Everything suddenly grew very quiet.

Only the rustle of leaves and wind through his fingers.

The afternoon’s hot breeze carried threads of coolness, seeping into his thin shirt. With it came the pleasant scent of shower gel, sun-warmed, clean, and warm.

Zhou Jinsheng wrinkled his nose.

Shen Yu tilted his head back, sunlight falling into his eyes.

The sky was on the verge of darkening, dusk light filtering through the vast canopy, dappling Shen Yu’s face.

Zhou Jinsheng averted his gaze, looked up at the sky, then lowered his lashes, lost in thought.

“Sorry.”

It was Zhou Jinsheng’s voice, low and clear, like the vibration of orchestral strings.

Shen Yu froze, hardly believing his ears.

He wondered if it was a hallucination, even forgetting his earlier melancholy over Cheng Yitan’s betrayal. He turned his head, peach-blossom eyes lively yet uncertain, and asked Zhou Jinsheng, “What did you say?”

Zhou Jinsheng pursed his lips and had no choice but to repeat himself: “Sorry.”

Seeing that Shen Yu still wanted confirmation, Zhou Jinsheng frowned and shot him a look that said, “If I have to say it a third time, I’ll kill you.”

Shen Yu didn’t care. His eyes brightened as he stared unblinkingly at him, sunlight falling down as if hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Zhou Jinsheng quietly watched him. After a moment of silence, he pursed his lips and said, “The incident at Blue Sea Bay last time was their misunderstanding, which led them to give you trouble. Although I was unaware, this matter ultimately arose because of me—”

“So, sorry.” Zhou Jinsheng paused, lowering his gaze to look at him. “How do you want compensation?”

He naturally understood the difference between family friends and ordinary classmates. For these haughty young masters from prestigious families, a sincere apology was quite rare.

But from different standpoints and others’ perspectives, a single apology carried no weight and could even be twisted into sarcasm. Similar misunderstandings happened all the time.

Zhou Jinsheng had naturally considered this too. He furrowed his brows slightly. Just as he thought Shen Yu would at least show some youthful temper, Shen Yu suddenly gave him a faint smile, like flowers scattered by the wind. “No problem. This wasn’t your fault.”

This wasn’t your fault.

Zhou Jinsheng froze.

At that moment, Shen Yu tilted his head up, his earlier bad mood swept away as he looked at him. “So, are we this now?” He clenched his fists, stuck out his two thumbs, and bumped them together in the middle twice.

Zhou Jinsheng didn’t catch on to the gesture. “What?”

Shen Yu kept his hands raised, smiling at him. “This means friends.”

Zhou Jinsheng narrowed his eyes, looking down at Shen Yu from above.

Unable to understand.

He couldn’t understand.

This was a—

A treasure he couldn’t understand.

He wanted to… claim it for himself.

“Okay.”

Hearing the affirmative answer so quickly, Shen Yu looked up in surprise.

From his angle, all he could see was Zhou Jinsheng’s tense jawline.

Just like this man’s precarious arrogance and conceit.