Chapter 91: Side Story 4 (2/5)
Lu Yichuan closed his eyes, then opened them again, his usual composure returning. He averted his gaze, no longer looking at Jiang Heng, his eyes fixed on the dormitory building in front of them.
“We’re here.”
Jiang Heng looked up and saw the number “5” on the building.
“Which floor are you on, Xuechang?” he asked Lu Yichuan.
Of course, he wasn’t actually interested in which floor Lu Yichuan lived on. He didn’t even wait for his answer before saying shyly, “Um…I’m on the fifth floor… Could you…help me with my luggage?”
Jiang Heng pointed at the duffel bag on top of his suitcase. “It’s a bit awkward to carry with the duffel bag on top. It’s just some bedding my mom packed for me, it’s not heavy.”
Lu Yichuan frowned, about to refuse, but before he could speak, the duffel bag was thrust into his arms.
The refined-looking senior, an English book in one hand, a cheap duffel bag in the other, stood at the entrance of the dormitory building, the dust from the bag staining his expensive shirt, the flimsy material crinkling with every movement.
Lu Yichuan’s eye twitched as he watched Jiang Heng, like a puppy off its leash, dragging his suitcase inside, then being stopped by the loud voice of the dormitory attendant. “Hey, freshman! Come register and get your key!”
He watched as the boy, having almost reached the stairs, turned around and came back.
Lu Yichuan, his face grim, carried the duffel bag inside.
Jiang Heng, as if he had eyes on the back of his head, quickly filled out the registration form, not forgetting to call out to him, “Xuechang, wait for me! I’m just filling out a form!”
It was scorching hot in City A, over thirty degrees Celsius these days. Lu Yichuan watched as beads of sweat appeared on the boy’s slender neck, his cheap T-shirt damp and clinging, the loose collar revealing a glimpse of pale skin.
Jiang Heng wrote the last character, put down the pen, and straightened up, his collar falling back into place. “Done! Auntie, can you check this?”
The attendant glanced at the form and handed him a key. “Go unpack first, then come back down here to get your cleaning supplies, one set per dorm.”
Jiang Heng happily took the key and bounded up the stairs, then, after a few steps, turned back. “Xuechang, what are you spacing out for?”
Meeting his gaze, Lu Yichuan looked away. “Nothing.”
Jiang Heng, once again full of energy, dragged his suitcase upstairs.
Although he looked thin and frail, Jiang Heng often worked part-time jobs during summer and winter vacations and also helped his adoptive parents with chores. Climbing five flights of stairs only made him slightly breathless.
He turned around and saw Lu Yichuan put down the duffel bag, his expression neutral.
Jiang Heng smiled at him, picked up the bag, and placed it back on his suitcase. “Thank you, Xuechang! I’ll treat you to dinner sometime!”
“No…” Lu Yichuan’s refusal died in his throat as Jiang Heng pulled out his phone. “Let’s exchange contact information. I’ll treat you and that senior from earlier to dinner.”
His adoptive mother had told him to be kind to others. The senior and Xuechang had been so helpful; he couldn’t just accept their kindness without reciprocating.
Lu Yichuan looked at the phone in front of him and took half a step back, putting some distance between them. “No need, it was nothing.”
He had always believed that not accepting a gesture of goodwill was a polite way of refusing. However, this innocent, bright-eyed freshman clearly didn’t operate on the same social cues.
Jiang Heng simply thought he was being shy. “How can it be nothing? I can afford a meal.”
Facing a man, Jiang Heng had no reservations. He leaned forward, his fingers brushing against the man’s lean waist, like a snake, then, before Lu Yichuan could react, slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
“I’ve already taken your phone out, don’t be shy! You’re not a girl, are you afraid I’ll chase after you? Don’t be so awkward, man.”
The awkward Lu Yichuan: “…”
He wanted to be angry, but looking into the boy’s clear, innocent eyes, his anger inexplicably dissipated.
This boy, who had appeared out of nowhere, was his kryptonite.
And so Lu Yichuan exchanged contact information with Jiang Heng.
The moment the friend request was accepted, the teenager put away his phone. “Goodbye, Xuechang! Keep in touch!”
Then he left Lu Yichuan standing there on the stairs, dragging his suitcase and duffel bag behind him.
Jiang Heng didn’t know who Lu Yichuan was, didn’t know how difficult it was to get his contact information, simply pleased with himself for having made two new friends on his first day.
He had planned to treat Gao Zhilan and Lu Yichuan to dinner after settling in, but right after registration came the mandatory two-week military training, followed by the freshman basketball tournament.
After two weeks under the scorching sun, Jiang Heng’s previously pale skin had turned several shades darker, and Song Chengan, his roommate, was now practically a coal briquette.
The two unlucky souls, forced to attend the basketball tournament as audience members, were trudging towards the gymnasium at two in the afternoon, while everyone else was enjoying the air conditioning in their dorms.
The sun was merciless, and Jiang Heng, unable to bear it any longer, bought two lemonades.
Little Coal Briquette Jiang Heng complained, “Seriously, who made it mandatory to watch a basketball game? I thought it was supposed to be voluntary.”
Big Coal Briquette Song Chengan sighed in agreement. “This damn weather! And watching a bunch of noobs play basketball… Our department’s players are hopeless.”
Jiang Heng sipped his lemonade through a straw. “Why didn’t you sign up when the class monitor asked for volunteers the other day?”
Song Chengan said, “Do I look like I have athletic ability? I’m here to study, not to play basketball. And watching them play is torture enough, why would I subject myself to even more torture?”
“…”
Thankfully, their department had managed to secure the indoor gymnasium, so they didn’t have to cheer under the scorching sun.
The two unlucky souls, after finishing half their drinks, finally reached the gymnasium, and Jiang Heng was surprised to find a large crowd inside.
He asked, “Are all these people here because they were…forced to through a lottery or something?”
Song Chengan replied, “Maybe some are here voluntarily, two extra conduct points is quite tempting.”
They followed the crowd inside and found two seats in the front row. The closer it got to game time, the more crowded it became, groups of girls entering, giggling and looking around.
Jiang Heng paid them no mind and, as soon as he sat down, took out his phone to play games.
He hadn’t dared to play games in high school, afraid of jeopardizing his chances of getting into university. Now he could finally play, but his new phone’s memory and specs weren’t good enough for more complex games.
Thankfully, even a simple puzzle game could entertain him.
Song Chengan was the first to notice something was amiss.
“Don’t you think there are a bit…too many people?”
Jiang Heng glanced around. “Do there? Basketball games always have a lot of people.”
“I still think something’s off.” Song Chengan said. “Too many girls. There must be something going on.”
The university gossip group chat usually held the answers to most questions, and Song Chengan, scrolling through the chat history, finally found the reason. “I knew it! Lu Yichuan from our department is playing!”
Jiang Heng, hearing the name, didn’t react immediately. “Who?”
“A celebrity in our department. Handsome and rich.”
It was just a basketball game; it shouldn’t have attracted so much attention. And Lu Yichuan wasn’t that famous. In such a large university, not many people knew him.
But someone had posted his picture in the gossip group chat.
And that group chat had thousands of members, a breeding ground for gossip, and a single picture was enough to create a frenzy, the news spreading quickly, attracting all the curious onlookers.
Jiang Heng scratched his head. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. “Everyone is here to see him? Is he that good at basketball?”
“Uh…”
That stumped Song Chengan.
Jiang Heng sucked on a lemon seed, accidentally biting into it, the bitterness making him wince. Song Chengan nudged him. “Look, Lu Yichuan is coming out.”
Jiang Heng looked in the direction he was pointing and saw a tall, slender figure holding a basketball, talking to someone.
Song Chengan, ever the gossip, whispered, “The one next to him is Jiang Zhuo, from the neighboring department. We’re playing against their team.”
Jiang Heng spat out the lemon seed. “Why is he talking to the…enemy?”
“They’re friends, apparently neighbors, and they have a good relationship, except for…” Song Chengan gestured with his chin, “…that one, the one not wearing a jersey, Jiang Zhuo’s younger brother, Jiang Xingbai. He’s a freshman, like us.”
Jiang Heng glanced at them, then looked away, disinterested, his fingers tapping away on his phone.
Holy shit! He was doomed!
Just as he looked down, the man he had been looking at turned around.
Lu Yichuan bounced the basketball, his gaze sweeping across the court, then pausing, settling on a figure in the front row.
The teenager was sitting there, his skin several shades darker than when he had first met him, still wearing a slightly faded, loose T-shirt, his head down, engrossed in his game, not even glancing up.
The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, and Lu Yichuan looked away.
Jiang Heng played his game vengefully, clearing levels, then started the next one, so engrossed in his virtual cooking that he barely registered the real world.
He occasionally glanced up, catching glimpses of a figure running across the court, the occasional three-pointer eliciting deafening screams.
Cook! Cook! Cook!
Jiang Heng had just placed the virtual ingredients in the pot when Song Chengan’s shout startled him. “Watch out!”
He looked up, and a basketball came hurtling towards his face. Thwack! A dull thud, a ringing in his ears, and the world went silent.
After what felt like an eternity, Jiang Heng felt a warmth on his nose, something wet.
He reached up a hand to touch it, but his hand was caught, a warm hand gripping his. The next moment, his chin was tilted upwards, a low, slightly breathless voice in his ear,
“Don’t move.”
Jiang Heng didn’t dare to move.
His mind slowly cleared, and he blinked, the bright lights of the gymnasium blurring his vision. He saw a pair of sneakers, then, following them upwards, a face.
Lu Yichuan tilted his head back down and, taking the tissue Song Chengan handed him, stuffed it up his nose.
He looked down at the phone in the teenager’s hand. The virtual food was burnt, and the virtual customers were angrily demanding their meals.
“Fun game?”
Jiang Heng, his nostrils plugged with tissue: QAQ
Lu Yichuan tossed the basketball back onto the court and said to the referee, “Our team will substitute a player. I’m taking him to the hospital.”
His tone was casual, his actions natural as he pulled Jiang Heng up. No one in the gymnasium suspected anything, just watched as they left.
Stepping out of the gymnasium, a wave of heat washed over Jiang Heng, making him slightly dizzy again.
He grabbed Lu Yichuan’s arm. “I think…I have a concussion.”
Lu Yichuan pushed his head down, which had instinctively tilted upwards. “If you keep staring directly at the sun in this thirty-degree weather, you’ll definitely get a concussion.”
“…”
Away from the bright sunlight, his mind cleared again.
Jiang Heng touched his nose. “I was just…checking if it was still bleeding.”
A humorless chuckle came from beside his ear, and Jiang Heng suspected he was being mocked.
He stared at Lu Yichuan. “Oh, it’s you, Xuechang. I was wondering why you looked so familiar.”
Lu Yichuan: “…”
So he had played half a basketball game for nothing.
He took Jiang Heng to the infirmary, watched as the doctor treated his nose, then pointed at a QR code on the wall. “Twenty yuan.”
Jiang Heng reached for his phone and realized it had died at some point during his intense gaming session.
His nose was red and sore, and there was a faint dust mark from the basketball on his face. He held up his dead phone to Lu Yichuan. “Xuechang, my phone died.”
He sniffled, his gaze shifting to Lu Yichuan’s jersey.
Clearly, basketball jerseys didn’t have pockets.
Jiang Heng finally realized the gravity of the situation.
Cooking games really did ruin lives. He would never play one again.
