Chapter 3
Edward Quan ·
Fuck!
Was he dragging me into the changing room to do something morally depraved and utterly inhuman?
I grabbed him.
“What are we doing? Why the changing room?”
“Changing into sportswear.”
He looked at me as though I were the pervert.
“What else? What do you think people do in a changing room?”
I laughed in fury.
Amazing.
Who was the lecher here?
I almost wanted to applaud. Nobody could twist the truth like him.
Glaring, I managed one sarcastic remark.
“Genius.”
The changing room was empty and quiet. Ying Yanjue was alone in a cubicle.
He rustled around for several minutes without emerging.
Impatient, I knocked.
“Done yet? The race is about to start. What are you still changing?”
He didn’t answer.
All I heard was heavier breathing.
My heart jolted.
“What’s wrong? Feeling ill again?”
Still nothing.
I began to panic.
What happened when his condition flared up?
Could he faint?
The more I thought, the more frightened I became.
I was about to ram the door when it clicked open. A hand reached out.
“I wasn’t—”
Before I finished, he caught my wrist and pulled me off balance.
My back struck the wall. Before my brain caught up, his hot mouth covered mine.
This time, though, he released me before I could push him away.
He remained far too close.
I wiped my mouth hard and ground out, “Could you show some fucking respect?”
“Sorry. I’ll ask next time.”
Even as he said it, he leaned in again.
I caught his face, scarlet.
“Are you a poodle in heat? Could you consider where we are?”
My hand was against his chest, ready to shove him away.
Then I spotted something wrong.
“Why are you wearing my clothes?”
He lowered his eyes toward me, his gaze darkening.
“Why am I wearing your clothes?
“Wen Qi, tell me. Why were your clothes in my room?”
Shit.
I remembered.
To provoke him, I’d deliberately messed up his perfectly ordered room.
I’d even thrown my worn clothes onto his bed.
Damn it!
Had he simply picked them up and put them on without looking?
My face and ears burned.
“Take them off! Stop wearing them!”
I reached to pull down the shirt. He stopped me.
Watching my face, he wore an unreadable smile.
“Can you smell it, Wen Qi?”
I didn’t dare look at him.
“Smell what...?”
“Can’t you tell? I smell entirely of you.”
My heart thumped. My face grew hotter.
Before I could curse him, he asked, “Can I kiss you now?”
My breath caught.
Not a word would come.
He took my hand again, guiding it slowly downward.
The elastic waistband stretched, then loosened.
His falsely gentle voice sounded beside my ear.
“May I, Wen Qi?”
I gritted my teeth and tightened my hand.
“Shut up.”
...
When he stood on the track, ready to start, the hot, sticky sensation in my palm had not faded.
Worse still...
I didn’t feel disgusted at all.
I was still turning that over when two girls beside me began talking excitedly.
“Ying Yanjue’s so tall! He’s gorgeous!”
Every word about him reached my ears.
“So handsome I could faint!”
My own gaze fixed on him.
My heart began beating faster for no reason.
He was tall and fair.
Among the runners, he stood out immediately.
Broad shoulders. A narrow waist.
Clearly strong.
I remembered the changing room.
His body.
And...
Bang!
The starting pistol shattered every thought.
For an instant, even my racing heart seemed to stop.
He shot out first and took the lead.
Everyone around me shouted encouragement.
I grew tense too, watching him run lap after lap.
As the others began tiring, his pace remained steady.
With five hundred meters left, I sprang up and shouted his name.
As though he heard me, he turned his head toward me.
Just that one glance.
The sights and sounds around me receded like the tide.
All I could see was the man still running.
Even years later, I couldn’t understand where I’d found the courage.
I ran straight down from the stands.
In front of everyone, I reached the finish line, caught the exhausted Ying Yanjue, and threw my arms around him.
With our chests pressed together, I couldn’t tell whose heart was beating faster.
16
After the sports meet, an inexplicable post blew up on the university’s anonymous confession page on Weibo.
【A University’s childhood-friends couple caught in a sweet embrace at the sports meet】
The attached photo showed Ying Yanjue and me hugging.
The comments were all:
“I ship it.”
“So sweet.”
“All aboard this ship!”
“So are you two really dating?”
The girl who sent me the post wore the knowing grin of someone delighted by gossip.
It made my scalp tingle.
I hurriedly declared, with absolute conviction, “No! We’re just friends! Friends!”
“Oh...”
Disappointment had barely appeared on her face when a wonderfully gentle voice sounded behind me.
“That’s great, then.”
I paused and turned.
A delicate, pretty boy stood there, his shoulder-length hair tied low over one shoulder.
Resting his cheek on one hand, he tilted his head like a kitten.
“Could I have your friend’s contact details?”
His eyes curved with his smile.
17
“What’s got into you? Playing basketball like you’re out for blood today.”
I caught my teammate’s pass and sank a clean three-pointer.
“I’m not angry, son. You’re just terrible.”
Trading jokes helped ease the irritation inside me.
I wiped my face and waited for the ball to be put back into play.
Then, at the edge of my vision, I saw someone.
That low ponytail swayed back and forth.
Inexplicably annoying.
I frowned.
The boy from that morning.
He trotted after someone, seeming to want to touch him.
My eyes followed, shifting to the person ahead.
That person...
“Wen Qi! Look out!”
A shout snapped me back.
Too late.
A basketball flew straight at my face.
Fuck!
No time to dodge!
Reflexively, I shut my eyes and raised my arms.
Smack!
Air swept across my face.
The expected pain never came.
I opened my eyes blankly.
Someone had blocked the ball.
My gaze lifted to his face.