Chapter 27 Part 2

~~~

As seniors in high school, their days revolved around studying, but physical exercise was still a must.

The single weekly PE class on Wednesdays was the highlight everyone looked forward to—the one chance to relax and do whatever they pleased.

The moment the PE teacher called for dismissal, the students scattered in all directions.

For the boys, the top choices were soccer or basketball.

Jing Chi had a bit of interest in basketball himself, so he tugged Yu Xingzhou toward the basketball court.

But just short of their destination, the boy came to a halt and refused to take another step.

Yu Xingzhou knew full well that on the basketball court, he wasn’t welcome by anyone except Jing Chi. Not wanting to spoil his fun, he offered proactively, “I’ll just wait here for you.”

Jing Chi looked puzzled. “You sure you don’t want to come over?”

Yu Xingzhou nodded without a second thought, though his words rang a little false. “I don’t like running around everywhere. It’s too tiring.”

But what boy could truly resist basketball? He was simply used to being shut out from group activities like this—he’d never really had the chance to join in.

Jing Chi could only nod. Then, with utter confidence, he said, “All right, then watch me play. The best-looking guy on the court will definitely be me.”

Yu Xingzhou couldn’t help but laugh at Jing Chi’s over-the-top narcissism. His eyes curved into happy crescents as he nodded and murmured softly, “I’ll wait right here for you.”

He watched as Jing Chi strode onto the basketball court and joined the cluster of other boys.

A game kicked off soon enough.

Jing Chi hadn’t been exaggerating—he was the one who drew every eye on the court.

The young man had sharp, refined features and a tall, upright build; every movement radiated effortless charisma.

Jing Chi dribbled with agile grace, slipping past the opponents’ blockade with a quick sidestep.

He charged toward the basket, leaped into the air, and flicked his wrist. The ball traced a perfect arc through the sky before dropping cleanly through the hoop.

Just like that, he’d scored with ease.

A few girls watching from the sidelines let out gasps of admiration. “Oh my god, Jing Chi is way too handsome!”

The next round started up quickly.

Yu Xingzhou stood off to the side, watching Jing Chi shine on the court and listening to the chorus of praise from those around him.

What began as an envious gaze slowly gave way to melancholy.

He couldn’t fathom why someone as outstanding and kind as Jing Chi would bother getting close to him. After all, he had nothing to offer.

The Evil Spirit piped up then. “Hey, don’t talk about yourself like that. If you don’t mind, I sure do.”

He shot a glance at Jing Chi on the court and had to concede the guy was a little handsome.

Then he pressed on. “Who says we don’t have anything? You’ve got me—that puts you leagues ahead of everyone else. And we’re not bad-looking at all; you just keep your head down all the time.”

With conviction, the Evil Spirit declared, “If we start holding our heads high from here on out, we won’t be any worse off than Jing Chi.”

“From here on out?” Yu Xingzhou echoed softly.

The Evil Spirit fell silent. Lately, he could feel his power fading away bit by bit.

He knew that once it was completely gone, it would mean all the resentment in his heart had vanished—and he could finally choose to leave this place.

They’d lingered here far too long. His main body might not remember, but the Evil Spirit did, crystal clear. He’d always assumed it would be an endless loop, but Jing Chi’s arrival had shattered that deadlock.

In the past, he might have suspected Jing Chi’s intentions, but not anymore.

It was about time they left, anyway—this illusory world behind them.

Of course, none of that would he ever tell Yu Xingzhou.

Class was nearly over, and Jing Chi came jogging back toward him, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

He looked at the young man, steadying his heart that was still pounding fiercely from the exercise, then asked, “Did you bring any tissues?”

Yu Xingzhou nodded at once, fished a pack of tissues from his pocket, and pulled one out to hand to Jing Chi.

Jing Chi didn’t take it, though. Instead, he wheedled shamelessly, “Xingxing, I’m exhausted. Wipe it for me, okay?”

With that, he thrust his face right up to Yu Xingzhou’s, his eyes urging him to get on with it, laced with eager anticipation.

The word “Xingxing” caught Yu Xingzhou off guard. No one had ever called him by such an intimate nickname before.

At the sound of it, his face flushed bright red. His skin had always been on the sensitive side—shyness showed up plain as day.

Jing Chi grinned, then deliberately prodded him again. “Come on, hurry up, Xingxing.”

He even stretched out the last syllable for emphasis.

The next instant, his mouth was muffled. Yu Xingzhou clapped a hand over it and said in a flustered rush, “Don’t call me that.”

Jing Chi wriggled his lips beneath the palm.

Yu Xingzhou felt the motion against his skin and suddenly realized what he’d done.

He yanked his hand back in a hurry and shoved the tissue into Jing Chi’s grasp.

Right on cue, the PE teacher called for everyone to assemble. Yu Xingzhou bolted back to the group.

Jing Chi took his time wiping the sweat from his forehead before strolling over.

The price of his teasing? His little desk mate ignored him for the rest of the afternoon.

That was when Jing Chi realized the young man had a temper of his own.

But Xingxing was such a cute name. He liked it a lot himself.

~~~

During evening self-study, Jing Chi scribbled a note and passed it to Yu Xingzhou. He had no choice—the kid really wasn’t speaking to him.

Yu Xingzhou unfolded it to find: “Skip class? I’ll take you to the playground to hang out.”

A lively little doodle face grinned up at him from the page, looking eerily like Jing Chi.

Yu Xingzhou shook his head at him with perfect composure, then casually balled up the note and slipped it into his pocket.

It was a trophy, after all—something for Yu Xingzhou to treasure on his desk.

Jing Chi arched a brow. He scooted closer for a peek, tugged at the young man’s sleeve, and wheedled in a whisper, “Xingxing, come play outside with me.”

Yu Xingzhou went rigid but kept shaking his head.

Jing Chi went nuclear. “If you don’t come, I’ll just keep calling you Xingxing. Xingxing, Xingxing, Xingxing…”

Yu Xingzhou cracked at last. He shot Jing Chi a glare and nodded in helpless surrender.

Jing Chi snickered under his breath. With no teacher in sight and the door right behind them, they slipped out on the sly.

The night was hushed and still, broken only by the occasional breeze carrying a refreshing chill.

Jing Chi led Yu Xingzhou to the basketball court they’d been at earlier that day.

Yu Xingzhou eyed him curiously, clearly puzzled about showing up here so late.

Jing Chi just grinned mysteriously. “Hang tight for a sec.”

He darted off, vanishing into the shadows. Moments later, he reappeared—basketball in hand.

As he drew near, Yu Xingzhou spotted it, delight flashing in his eyes before he even registered it himself. “Where’d you get a basketball from around here?”

Jing Chi didn’t answer. He just asked, “Wanna play a game with me?”

Yu Xingzhou might’ve claimed he didn’t like basketball back at school, but Jing Chi hadn’t missed the hunger in those eyes.

Everyone shunned him, so he’d never dared dream of joining in.

Jing Chi didn’t want him carrying that regret.

He couldn’t give the young man a proper game with a full court, but he could make one just for the two of them.

Yu Xingzhou ached to say yes, but he shook his head, remembering how clueless he was at it.

Jing Chi slung an arm around his shoulders, breezy as ever. “Come on, it’s no fun by myself. Pretty please, Xingxing?”

Jing Chi’s gaze dropped just as Yu Xingzhou looked up.

Their eyes locked under the perfect moonlight.

Maybe it was the fire in Jing Chi’s stare, or maybe his own heart’s longing finally won out—either way, Yu Xingzhou nodded.

The two of them kicked off their own private basketball game.

Jing Chi patiently coached Yu Xingzhou through dribbling, dodging, and shooting.

The young man picked it up fast, his eyes shining bright with thrill. Exercise brought a healthy glow to his usually pale cheeks.

The Evil Spirit watched from the sidelines, sensing his power ebb away just a little more.

Jing Chi had filled one of the voids in Yu Xingzhou’s old life.

He didn’t interrupt, content to observe in silence as they laughed freely across the court. He could feel the pure joy radiating from his host body.

A faint smile tugged at the Evil Spirit’s lips.

“Eh, it’s so late at night—why are there still students out on the basketball court?”

The beam of a flashlight suddenly swept over them, followed by the voice of the patrolling security guard.

Jing Chi immediately tossed the basketball aside, grabbed the boy’s hand, and bolted.

A gentle breeze brushed against his cheeks. Yu Xingzhou paid no attention to the path ahead. He simply watched Jing Chi, who was pulling him along as they ran.

He would probably remember that person forever—the one who’d played basketball with him under the cover of night, the boy who’d dashed through the wind at his side.

They finally shook off Security Grandpa and came to a stop.

Panting for breath, they took in each other’s disheveled states. Their eyes met, and they burst into laughter.

Jing Chi gazed at the boy’s unreserved smile. The timid kid from before seemed to have vanished without a trace.

Subconsciously, he brushed his fingertip against the boy’s eye.

Yu Xingzhou, who had been laughing, froze in place. Every sense zeroed in on the spot where Jing Chi had touched him.

Hesitantly, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Jing Chi pulled his hand back, tilted his head, and grinned. “Xingxing looks great when he smiles. I hope you keep it up.”

This time, Yu Xingzhou didn’t argue. His eyes curved in a gentle smile, and he nodded.

Truth be told, in the boy’s eyes, the most captivating smile of all belonged to Jing Chi.