Chapter 26

Time flew by, and the long-awaited Athletic Meet finally arrived.

The playground buzzed with energy, alive with the exuberance of youth and the raw vitality of teenage boys.

A gentle, cool breeze brushed against his skin, and Jing Chi comfortably narrowed his eyes.

Cheers from the crowd rang in his ears, while entries from the broadcast submissions echoed over the speakers.

Jing Chi and Yu Xingzhou had no events this time around, so they sat in the stands, watching the competitors down below.

It was mid-to-late September, and the warm sunlight bathed them, stirring up a wave of drowsiness.

Jing Chi dipped his head slightly, propped it on his hand, and slowly closed his eyes.

When Yu Xingzhou glanced back at him again, he saw Jing Chi dozing off and instinctively held his breath.

Testing the waters, he whispered, “Jing Chi?”

No response. Mustering his courage, Yu Xingzhou reached out and prodded Jing Chi’s cheek with a fingertip.

The warmth and softness of it curved his lips into a smile.

It felt even more satisfying than savoring a piece of candy.

When Jing Chi finally opened his eyes, Yu Xingzhou was nowhere to be seen.

Jing Chi: “?”

A grown man, just gone like that.

Jing Chi scanned the surroundings, then asked the System, “Where’d Yu Xingzhou go?”

The System hadn’t felt this kind of lively atmosphere in ages and was soaking it in from the sidelines. Hearing the question, it replied:

“To the restroom.”

The System didn’t mess up often, so Jing Chi waited patiently.

But more than twenty minutes passed, and still no sign of him.

Jing Chi’s face darkened. “System?”

The ominous edge in his voice was unmistakable.

The System jolted to attention, investigated at once, and replied sheepishly:

“Host, the target’s in the Equipment Room now.”

Jing Chi’s expression soured further. Dropping the ball at a crucial moment—what was there to say?

The System felt hard done by. He’d definitely been in the restroom at first.

Rewind to half an hour earlier.

After that sneaky poke at Jing Chi’s cheek, Yu Xingzhou’s heart raced with excitement, and he slipped away quietly.

He headed to the restroom first. On his way back to their seats, he bumped into a classmate.

The boy shot him an awkward glance before blurting out:

“The PE teacher wants you to go to the Equipment Room and help sort some gear.”

He looked away after that, twisting the hem of his shirt, visibly tense.

Just a simple request… unless…

“He’s acting guilty. What a childish trick, tsk tsk.”

The Evil Spirit’s voice purred in Yu Xingzhou’s ear, thrilled at the prospect—his prey was on the hook again.

Yu Xingzhou frowned, tempted to refuse. He knew going there would lead to trouble, the kind that never ended well.

He was done with this life, especially now—for Jing Chi’s sake, maybe.

These peaceful days had let him forget his past torments, if only for a moment.

But in the end, he couldn’t defy the Evil Spirit’s compulsion and made his way to the Equipment Room.

It was deserted when he arrived.

He let out a relieved breath—until the door slammed open behind him.

“Yo, if it isn’t Yu Xingzhou. Where’s that Jing Chi of yours?”

Three boys sauntered in. By sheer bad luck, one was Wang Shuo—the same guy who’d pushed Yu Xingzhou to run the two-thousand-meter—and the other two were unfamiliar faces, no doubt his hired muscle.

“Him again. We let him off last time, and now he walks right into the trap.”

The Evil Spirit murmured in Yu Xingzhou’s ear. Starved of wicked blood to feed on, his spirit form felt thinner by the day.

All Jing Chi’s doing, that meddlesome pest.

Dragging the host around on pointless errands—and Yu Xingzhou lapped it up.

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue? You were so chatty before. No big protector this time? Finally scared?”

Wang Shuo sneered, his tone dripping with disdain.

Ever since Jing Chi and Yu Xingzhou had humiliated him, he’d nursed the grudge in silence.

He wouldn’t touch Jing Chi—that guy was bad news. But Yu Xingzhou? Fair game. They’d bullied him plenty before, and he never fought back or tattled.

The boy kept his gaze lowered, ignoring the taunt.

Yu Xingzhou tried to edge away. He knew if he didn’t leave now, none of them would walk out unscathed.

But his fleeting mercy went unnoticed.

Enraged by the snub and the attempted exit, Wang Shuo grabbed Yu Xingzhou’s collar and hurled him against the nearby equipment rack.

Yu Xingzhou let out a muffled grunt as his leg slammed straight into the iron rack. Pain shot through him.

Wang Shuo closed in on him, his words growing nastier by the second.

“I heard you’re gay. You and Jing Chi hooking up or something? Why else would he stick his neck out for you like that?”

Wang Shuo smirked smugly when Yu Xingzhou’s face darkened.

The mention of Jing Chi’s name made Yu Xingzhou’s fingers clench abruptly.

He could put up with people insulting him—he was used to it by now—but he wouldn’t tolerate anyone slandering Jing Chi. That man was too good, so pure that Yu Xingzhou felt pairing his own name with his would be a defilement.

“Don’t mention him.”

The young man’s voice was flat, laced with a chill he couldn’t quite suppress.

Wang Shuo just laughed, dripping with mockery.

“Oh? Touch a nerve, did I? Flip out the second his name comes up—guess I nailed it. You two are filthy, utterly revolting.”

The boys didn’t notice the flicker in the young man’s pupils, or how the sky outside suddenly grew overcast.

Jing Chi was making his way up to the Equipment Room when he felt the weather shift. Sensing trouble, he broke into a hurried jog.

Inside the Equipment Room.

When the young man raised his head again, his eyes were pools of thick, swirling black—like vortices no one dared meet.

“Look at me,” the Evil Spirit said softly, a strange smile tugging at his lips.

In an instant, the three of them lost all sense, standing like marionettes, staring blankly at the figure before them.

The Evil Spirit raised a hand.

Yu Xingzhou’s voice suddenly echoed in his mind: “Don’t dirty your hands.”

He didn’t want to touch those people.

The Evil Spirit chuckled lightly, delighted to agree. After all, he had no desire to lay a finger on such filth.

He lowered his hand, his tone icy, his voice laced with hypnosis.

“The person facing you is the one you hate most in this lifetime. Here’s your chance—unleash your resentment.”

Whether they lived or died would depend on whether they beat their most hated foe to death.

The Equipment Room filled at once with the sounds of blows and screams.

Each one struck with all their might, as if it were kill or be killed.

They had no idea their cruelty toward others would soon come full circle back on themselves.

By the time Jing Chi reached the Equipment Room, he found Yu Xingzhou standing at the door, face blank.

“What’s going on?”

Jing Chi stepped closer and peered through the crack in the door. He saw tangled figures inside, smeared with crimson blood.

Yu Xingzhou instinctively moved to block the view with his body. He was terrified Jing Chi might see, might suspect him, fear him—even pull away from him.

The Evil Spirit scoffed. “What’s the big deal? Perfect chance to see his true colors. Same as all the others.”

Though even he lacked full conviction.

Jing Chi took one glance and looked away. He knew full well what was happening inside, but he didn’t care.

He reached out, his fingertip brushing the young man’s cheek.

A fleeting warmth.

Yu Xingzhou stared at Jing Chi, stunned.

“You had something on your face.”

Jing Chi smiled as he explained, acting as if he hadn’t noticed the bizarre scene in the Equipment Room at all. “Let’s head back.”

Yu Xingzhou nodded at once and hurried to Jing Chi’s side. But then the spot he’d crashed into earlier throbbed with sudden pain. He couldn’t help sucking in a sharp breath.

He meant to tough it out—he’d endured far worse before and didn’t want to burden Jing Chi.

But Jing Chi, always attuned to the boy beside him, caught the sound. He frowned. “Where are you hurt?”

Yu Xingzhou shook his head quickly, murmuring, “Just bumped my leg earlier. It’s nothing. Doesn’t hurt.”

Jing Chi dropped into a squat and looked up at him. “Here?”

Yu Xingzhou tried to pull back, but Jing Chi gripped his calf.

Warmth seeped through the thin fabric of his school pants. No one had ever been this close to him before.

A flush crept across the young man’s face.

“Where exactly?”

This time Yu Xingzhou obeyed, soft and compliant. “Right leg.”

He quickly averted his eyes afterward, too shy to meet Jing Chi’s gaze.

“Your heart’s pounding like crazy. Can’t you show a little spine?”

The Evil Spirit griped, convinced his host was hopeless.

Jing Chi rolled up the pant leg, revealing a nasty bruise—purple and mottled, with faint traces of blood. This was no mere bump.

He touched the injury lightly.

The young man hissed through his teeth, just as expected.

Jing Chi smoothed the pant leg back down and rose, a touch of helplessness in his eyes.

“Doesn’t hurt, huh?”

Yu Xingzhou stammered, unable to find the words.

Jing Chi paid it no mind. Instead, he scooped the boy up by the waist and gazed down at him with a teasing glint in his eye. “Hold tight to my neck. If you fall and hurt yourself again, don’t come blaming me.”

Stunned by the sudden motion, Yu Xingzhou instinctively wrapped his arms around Jing Chi’s neck.

He found himself enveloped in a warm embrace, filled with a familiar scent that brought instant comfort and peace.

Jing Chi had known Yu Xingzhou was skinny, but he hadn’t realized quite how skinny. The boy felt weightless in his arms, light as air and even a little bony in places.

With Yu Xingzhou cradled against him, Jing Chi walked step by step toward the infirmary.

Sensing the teen’s shyness, he stuck to deserted paths.

Fortunately, everyone else was out on the playground, so they encountered no one.

Jing Chi kept his eyes on the path ahead, while Yu Xingzhou’s gaze stayed fixed on him.

Jing Chi’s features were strikingly handsome, his brows carrying a hint of cold detachment. But Yu Xingzhou knew that aloofness was never turned his way.

He studied Jing Chi intently, as if memorizing every expression, etching the man deep into his memory.

At last, they reached the infirmary.

“Doctor, my classmate’s hurt,” Jing Chi called out as he gently set Yu Xingzhou down on the bed.

A female doctor in a white coat emerged from the back room. “What happened? Where’s the injury?”

Jing Chi rolled up Yu Xingzhou’s pant leg, exposing the boy’s pale calf marred by bruises. “He bumped it here.”

The doctor took one look and let out a sympathetic tsk. “Oh dear, what a clumsy thing to do.”

She approached, prodding and pressing the spot to check the bone. Satisfied all was well, she nodded. “Nothing serious. Just ice it for now.”

She fetched an ice pack from inside and handed it to Jing Chi. “Here, classmate—help your friend with this.”

Jing Chi nodded and took it, then rested Yu Xingzhou’s leg across his lap.

He applied the ice pack with gentle care.

The sudden chill drew a sharp gasp from Yu Xingzhou, who furrowed his brow.

Jing Chi eased up even more and asked softly, “Does it hurt badly?”

Yu Xingzhou caught the genuine concern in those beautiful eyes and shook his head at once, murmuring, “It’s not bad.”

Truth be told, it hadn’t hurt much at all—but the worry in Jing Chi’s gaze suddenly made it ache a little.

Jing Chi lifted the pack and blew softly on the wound, then looked up with a smile. “When I was a kid, my mom always said a good blow makes it all better. Works like a charm, right?”

The boy froze, a tingling warmth spreading from the spot Jing Chi’s breath had touched, coursing through his limbs like electricity.

He nodded on instinct, his wide doe eyes fixed on Jing Chi in a daze.

Those eyes sparkled like starlight, drawing him in irresistibly. Even if it was a trap—even for just a fleeting moment—he’d dive in willingly.

Jing Chi chuckled at the boy’s dazed expression. “You’re adorable.”

He watched color flood Yu Xingzhou’s fair skin, starting at his neck and blooming across his entire face.

Amused, Jing Chi feigned ignorance of the cause and prodded the boy’s flushed cheek with his cold fingertips, still chilled from the ice. “Your face is so red. Is it too hot in here?”

Yu Xingzhou ducked his head, touching his burning cheek with embarrassment, and mumbled, “M-maybe a little.”

The boy was a terrible liar—obvious to anyone—but Jing Chi had no intention of pointing it out.

With a knowing smile in his eyes, he hummed in acknowledgment and returned to icing Yu Xingzhou’s calf with focused care.

Yu Xingzhou let out a quiet breath of relief.

That was when the Evil Spirit piped up again. “No way. Seriously? That’s all it takes to get your heart racing?”

Yu Xingzhou ignored him.

Fuming, the Evil Spirit stomped about. “How can you be so dense? You know it could be a trap, and you still leap right in. Why can’t you see there are no good people in this world?”

This time, Yu Xingzhou didn’t hold his tongue. “I believe him. At least in this moment, I believe he won’t hurt me. So you believe him too, don’t you?”

The Evil Spirit vanished. He had no answer—because even he wasn’t sure.

After all, he was born from Yu Xingzhou’s every shred of malice, resentment, bitterness, and regret.

The original self could cast those aside and speak so freely, but he could not.

Still, the Evil Spirit knew he’d been moved by Jing Chi as well. And that infuriated him—most of all with himself.

This was the first time the evil spirit had taken the initiative to cut off contact with Yu Xingzhou.

Just then, the doctor walked over.

“Let me take a look.”

After the ice pack had reduced the swelling, it already looked much better. The doctor nodded and advised, “Apply some more when you get back. That way it’ll heal faster. Otherwise, your leg will be bruised for days.”

Jing Chi nodded at once and replied on the young man’s behalf, “Got it. Thank you.”

He had wanted to carry him, but Yu Xingzhou straightened his pant leg and got off the bed by himself.

“I’m much better now. I can walk back on my own,” the young man said stubbornly.

He didn’t want to drag Jing Chi into the swirl of rumors because of him. Things like this were bad enough for him to go through alone—he didn’t want Jing Chi to experience them too.

Jing Chi assumed Yu Xingzhou was just being shy and didn’t insist.

By the time they returned to their seats, there were only a few minutes left in the morning’s events. Lunchtime arrived soon after.

The crowd immediately headed toward the cafeteria, and Jing Chi and Yu Xingzhou followed.

He had Yu Xingzhou save them seats. With an excuse like that, Jing Chi knew the young man would stick with him while they bought food.

As they were eating after getting their meals, murmurs drifted over from nearby.

“Did you hear? Apparently, a teacher went to the Equipment Room to sort some stuff and found three students beating the hell out of each other. All of them were bruised and battered—looked gruesome. One even nearly killed another, and someone else cracked his head. No idea if he’s okay.”

“No wonder I thought I heard an ambulance earlier. Who the hell picks sports day to start a brawl in the Equipment Room?”

“One of them was from Senior Year 3 Class 31. The other two were from Senior Year 3 Class 36 and Class 8.”

“Hasn’t Class 31 had two incidents already? Is there something wrong with that class’s feng shui?”

“What nonsense. We’re materialists—we follow the Marxist Materialist View of History. Don’t go imagining things.”

At the mention of the Equipment Room, Yu Xingzhou’s eyes flickered with a hint of guilt. He was afraid Jing Chi might suspect him of being involved.

But Jing Chi kept eating calmly, as if he hadn’t heard a thing.

Noticing Yu Xingzhou poking listlessly at his food, Jing Chi could easily guess what was on his mind. He picked a piece of meat from his own plate and transferred it over, teasing, “What’re you thinking about, Student Yu? Eat up properly. You’re so skinny it pokes me when I hold you.”

Yu Xingzhou’s eyes widened at the bold words. He immediately ducked his head and shoveled food into his mouth until his cheeks bulged, his scattered thoughts vanishing in an instant.

Jing Chi couldn’t help chuckling at the sight of the young man’s round, stuffed cheeks.

In the afternoon, the announcements began: no one was to wander around except on the playground. Each class had to report headcounts every hour—probably to prevent a repeat of the morning’s chaos.

As class leader, Nan Musheng knew someone from their class had been involved.

His gaze fell on Jing Chi and Yu Xingzhou. The harmonious vibe between them felt impenetrable.

Then he recalled the recent string of incidents. Some might not realize it, but he knew: all three cases involved people who had bullied Yu Xingzhou.

He wasn’t sure if it was coincidence.

At some point, Nan Musheng had started feeling like he didn’t belong here. His mind held only memories of this place, but that sensation had grown stronger ever since Jing Chi appeared.

It was a shame Jing Chi had always been distant toward him. His eyes were forever fixed on the young man who might be the root of it all.

The System reminded Jing Chi, “Host, the shou protagonist seems to have realized he doesn’t belong here.”

Jing Chi paid little mind to Nan Musheng—a timid, selfish sort who couldn’t stir up much trouble. The gong protagonist was another story.

“When’s the gong protagonist arriving?”

The System checked its data and replied, “Less than half a month from now. Time here flows at double speed, so half a month here is just a week outside.”

Jing Chi planned to extract Yu Xingzhou’s soul from this place before the gong protagonist arrived. That way, he wouldn’t have to throw down with him later. Time was of the essence.

And what better way to make the most of it than by advancing his pursuit!

Then he could smoothly whisk the young man away.

Yu Xingzhou blinked at Jing Chi’s odd smile, puzzled.

Jing Chi raised a brow. “Curious?”

Yu Xingzhou nodded eagerly, looking every bit the curious baby.

Jing Chi replied calmly, “I’m thinking about how to run off with you.”

The young man took it as a joke and smiled, lips curving shyly.

Yet he had no idea that with those perfectly calm words, Jing Chi had laid bare the truest thoughts of his heart.