The incident during self-study left He Siheng with a sour face for most of the morning. During the big break for the flag-raising ceremony, he overheard Zhou Yu on the way asking, “Heng Bro, I heard you almost got into another fight during self-study, and the Class Monitor pinned you to the ground?”
He Siheng stumbled. “I wasn’t pinned to the ground by him!”
Zhou Yu gossiped, “Then what happened?”
He Siheng jerked his head away unnaturally. “Nothing happened.”
He asked oddly, “Where’d you hear that?”
“From the group chat.”
“What group?”
Zhou Yu pulled out his phone and showed him the messages, but He Siheng’s eyes locked onto the group name at the top—Brother Jing Global Support Association.
“…”
He Siheng’s face went wooden. “You’re in Tan Jing’s fan support group?”
Zhou Yu hurriedly explained, “I’m just gathering intel on the enemy for you!”
He Siheng tugged at his lips. “High schoolers sure have a lot of free time.”
High schoolers were pretty idle when it came to gossip, but they got genuinely busy too—especially with the next monthly exam looming, tightening this week’s study pace. Friday’s PE class was a rare chance to relax.
After the PE teacher called dismissal, it was free activity time. Students flocked to the equipment room to grab balls.
The afternoon sun was intense, so aside from soccer on the field, most playing ball sports headed to the gym courts indoors, where it wouldn’t be too hot.
Class Two had PE with Class One. Song Lin and Wang Yizhou argued forever over soccer on the field or basketball in the gym before handing the decision to Tan Jing.
Tan Jing didn’t care what ball they played. He glanced at He Siheng, who was hugging a basketball over there, paused, then said, “Basketball.”
Wang Yizhou jumped three feet high. “Jing Bro still loves me!”
Song Lin, who knew the truth, snorted. “Look at you showing off.”
Love my ass—it was just that He Siheng wasn’t playing tennis this class.
Wang Yizhou dashed to grab a basketball from the equipment room and came back excitedly. “Let’s go to the outdoor court. We can watch the show too. I heard while getting the ball that Young Master He got into it with someone again.”
Song Lin asked, “What happened?”
“Rumor is he offended Xu Weiyang from Class 10 over Zhang Xunyue and they’ve got a basketball duel set up.” Wang Yizhou clicked his tongue. “This young master’s got game—stirring up a two guys one girl trope.”
Song Lin frantically signaled him to shut up, but Wang Yizhou didn’t get it. “What, eye twitch?”
No sooner had he asked than Tan Jing flicked his forehead.
Wang Yizhou clutched his head aggrievedly. “Jing Bro, why’d you hit me?”
“To hear the sound.” Tan Jing’s tone was flat. “Yep, solid all the way through.”
Wang Yizhou: “?”
After Tan Jing headed toward the outdoor court, Song Lin shook his head. “Grow a brain.”
Wang Yizhou: “???”
The outdoor basketball court blazed under the sun, and the match between Class One and Class 10 was in full swing, drawing a big crowd all hyped for the duel gimmick.
The school usually wore Western-style uniforms, but for PE, they changed into special sportswear: white crew-neck short-sleeves with the school emblem on the left chest and black athletic shorts.
Class 10’s crew, led by Xu Weiyang, were all tall and burly sports students, constantly high-intensity training with solid muscles. They looked dead set on winning.
Class One’s boys were a team He Siheng had hastily assembled from his usual playmates, with decent coordination.
When Tan Jing arrived, He Siheng had just intercepted the ball from Xu Weiyang. He dribbled, faked out the defender with a move, then took three smooth steps for a layup.
Score. The teen landed steadily.
Handsome as hell, effortless.
The Omegas watching around the court screamed, with Zhou Yu off to the side roaring loudest: “Heng Bro, you’re so Alpha!”
He Siheng curved his lips, put two fingers together, swept them from his forehead outward, and threw Zhou Yu a super flirty, handsome flying kiss.
The screams exploded even louder.
Wang Yizhou tsked. “Done for. Young Master He’s play was peak flirt. This isn’t a duel—it’s his personal show. Won’t the school flower fall for him now?”
Song Lin wanted to clamp his mouth shut, about to tell him to zip it before he got smacked again, when he heard Tan Jing blandly agree: “Pretty handsome.”
Normally, He Siheng had that carefree young master vibe, easygoing with everyone, rarely showing claws. Max approachability, but less of that hormone pull on the opposite sex.
But on the court, he was sharp, decisive, untamed. That cold, predatory glare during the steal was pure aggression—no wonder the off-court Omegas were screaming for him.
Tan Jing watched the showy teen on the court, his own lips curving faintly.
A thousand faces to one person—he enjoyed every side of He Siheng.
Wang Yizhou looked indignant. “No! Jing Bro, you haven’t played yet. If you did, you’d be way—mmph mmph—”
Song Lin, at his limit, clamped a hand over his mouth to mute him.
PE time was short, so they only played halves. Class 10 fielded sports students, but couldn’t overcome He Siheng’s hot streak and his team’s synergy—they lost the first half.
In the second half, Class 10 clearly targeted He Siheng, switching tactics to swarm him with dirty plays. When He Siheng passed to a teammate, an opponent’s guard elbowed his back, nearly toppling him.
Luckily, He Siheng reacted fast, just staggering before core strength steadied him.
But the next pass, another teammate wasn’t so lucky—got straight-up knocked down. The guy brushed it off with a casual “sorry.”
“What the fuck, Class 10?!” Wang Yizhou, who’d just been salty about He Siheng’s flair, was the first to explode. “Treating this like a fight club?”
Song Lin was pissed too. “Fucking low-class.”
Tan Jing stayed silent, walked to the sideline, picked up the rolling basketball, and weighed it in his hand.
Class 10’s antics were blatant provocation. Class One’s guys on court couldn’t take it anymore. “You playing ball or fighting?”
Xu Weiyang played dumb. “Fight? I just accidentally bumped him. Already apologized—what more?”
He Siheng and another teammate helped up the fallen guy. His ankle was swollen huge—probably tough to even walk for a while.
He gestured for his teammates to take the injured guy off the court first, then walked up to Xu Weiyang. His thin lips curled, and his handsome brows filled with menace. “So this is the level of the school basketball team? Playing this dirty— no wonder they couldn’t even squeeze into the top three the day before yesterday.”
On Wednesday, the school basketball team had narrowly lost to the final four.
Xu Weiyang’s face darkened at the sore spot being poked. He grabbed He Siheng’s collar. “Say that again, you little shit?”
