The sky hung overcast today. It was the day of the friendly match against the neighboring school.
Liang Jin slung her single-shoulder bag over her back and stepped through the doors into a surging crowd. The first half had just been called, and the boys and girls on the court were cheering and leaping in excitement. The referee waved from center court to round them up, the basketball gym buzzing with energy.
Quite a few people spotted her and started murmuring. Someone even shouted to Song Youhuai, not far off: “A-Huai, that shameless bitch is here.”
The call sparked ripples of laughter, high and low.
Dressed in his basketball jersey, Song Youhuai heard it all. He wiped his face with a towel and eyed her coolly, a glint of mockery simmering in his gaze.
“Liang Jin actually dares to show her face?”
“She didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Wrong? Song Youhuai said he dropped the price of a car on her. And what kind of car? A supercar—at least a million bucks.”
The whispers rose and fell around her.
At the eye of the storm, Liang Jin paid them no mind.
Her eyes quickly found Shen Keye in the corner. He wore a black duckbill cap, a color-blocked windbreaker, and cargo pants. Even with just half his face peeking from under the brim, he stood out. Sensing the buzz of the crowd’s gossip, he lowered his gaze. Their eyes met, and he gave the faintest smile.
Liang Jin tightened her grip on her strap and pushed upstream against the tide of rumors.
“Liang Jin.” Ignored, Song Youhuai vaulted the railing and strode after her.
The coach yelled for Song Youhuai to get back on the court, but he ignored the man and seized Liang Jin’s shoulder.
The girl turned her head slightly to meet his eyes, hesitating just a beat. “Something you need?”
Song Youhuai had just sunk a shot in the first half and was riding high. “Our business isn’t done yet.”
Liang Jin paused. “Our business?”
She wore a simple red plaid sweater, blue jeans, and silver cross-star earrings. In her haste to leave, she’d clipped a red Hello Kitty barrette into her forehead bangs. Her eyes lit up as she smiled. “Aren’t we not that close?”
“Not that close?” Song Youhuai froze, the words hitting him like a gut punch. He forced the question through gritted teeth.
One of Song Youhuai’s friends, who’d trailed after him, lost it. “Liang Jin, have you no shame? A-Huai shelled out a fortune for you.”
Song Youhuai had admitted it himself—the cost of a car, starting at two million. Just the thought made it seem like a raw deal for him.
Outraged voices assailed her from all sides. Song Youhuai, sensing victory, pressed: “What, Liang Jin? Found yourself someone richer?”
Liang Jin couldn’t fathom it—Song Youhuai, smearing her with his own sordid mindset. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly before her calm features settled into a smile that was equal parts mocking and mild.
“Song Youhuai, ever heard this one?” Her voice was even. “A line from the author of 《Faust》, the renowned thinker Goethe.”
Song Youhuai blinked, caught off guard.
Liang Jin beamed. “Even if you’re selling your soul, make sure it’s to someone who can afford the price.”*
His face darkened in an instant. Liang Jin shook him off and kept walking. Song Youhuai knew she was calling him a broke idiot. Fury surged on instinct. “Who the hell are you screwing around with?” The mere thought was enough to drive him insane. “Tell me—who?”
Song Youhuai traced her gaze to Shen Keye in the distance. He recalled the guy’s odd behavior at Ulta before, and it clicked. “You think my money’s not enough, so you’re chasing someone loaded? Don’t tell me it’s Shen Keye.” He sneered. “Nice try, Liang Jin. Ah-Ye would never go for you.”
The words drew every eye to her. Liang Jin stood clean and radiant in the light, her face free of any shadow.
She glanced at the boy across the way. Their eyes locked, then she looked away.
She had no interest in bandying words with Song Youhuai.
All the money he’d thrown at her added up to less than thirty thousand—and Liang Jin hadn’t taken a dime.
Song Youhuai scoffed. “I gave you plenty of stuff too.”
His friend chimed in. “Liang Jin, if you’re so tough, give back everything A-Huai bought you.”
They blocked her path. Liang Jin replied, “No thanks.”
Finally—an answer. His friend smirked, right on cue. “Figures—”
“Too dirty,” Liang Jin said calmly, eyeing the friend in her way. “Second trash bin outside the dorms. Help yourself if you want it.”
The remark landed like a slap across Song Youhuai’s face. A snort broke the tension, and soon the onlookers were roaring with laughter.
Song Youhuai lunged to drag her somewhere private. “Liang Jin, I warned you—I can make your life hell at Hong Kong School.”
Liang Jin met his gaze with cool disdain. “Ten minutes till tip-off. If you want to make a fool of yourself, we can keep debating what’s over the line.”
Chaos erupted on the bustling basketball court, drawing a crowd of onlookers. A sharp whistle cut through the air from nearby as the coach hurried over with reminders and tactical instructions. Song Youhuai’s facial muscles twitched, and he finally let go.
The second half of the basketball game was about to begin.
Liang Jin pushed through the crowd toward her original target, only to freeze in surprise—Shen Keye was no longer there.
~~~
“Ah-Ye, don’t be mad. A-Huai didn’t mean it,” Li Yibo said urgently.
Shen Keye walked down the corridor, the dim lights casting shadows that darkened his gaze as well. Under the brim of his cap, his features were sharp and defined. Suddenly, his thin lips curved slightly. “I’m not angry.”
Li Yibo was Wu Lin’s boyfriend and the basketball team’s captain. He had been Shen Keye’s roommate in high school, and they got along decently.
Shen Keye glanced sideways at Li Yibo. Earlier, Song Youhuai had played dirty several times, injuring Li Yibo’s left arm muscles and forcing him to be subbed out. His girlfriend had gone outside to buy ice water.
But Li Yibo wasn’t the only one who got hurt.
Li Yibo looked skeptical, hesitating before speaking. “Ah-Ye… he’s still your brother, after all.”
Those words hung in the air, and the atmosphere instantly grew quiet. Shen Keye stopped in his tracks, a subtle, intriguing coldness crossing his face.
“Sister Qing finding out wouldn’t do you any good… You don’t need to do anything for my sake,” Li Yibo explained anxiously. “Song Youhuai’s been chasing Liang Jin lately, and that girl’s been through hell because of him. While you’ve been away at competitions these past few months, his reputation has tanked. He hangs out with those spoiled rich kids from Hong Kong School, and anyone who gets mixed up with him ends up smelling just as bad. We all know it… You can’t end up like Liang Jin.”
Li Yibo’s clumsy attempt at flattery struck Shen Keye as pretty lame.
But now Shen Keye was intrigued. “Since when are you such a gossip?”
Li Yibo frowned, insisting, “Anyway, don’t throw any punches when you get back on the court.”
Shen Keye’s indifferent expression suddenly cracked into a smile. They had reached the changing room door. He leaned against it, his figure blending seamlessly with the dim lights. The mottled shadows sharpened his chiseled features, lending him an air of raw aggression and weary desolation.
Casually, he asked, “Li Yibo, since when do I have to listen to you?”
~~~
A knock sounded at the door. Thinking Li Yibo had returned, Shen Keye opened it and looked down, surprised by his visitor.
Liang Jin had shown up uninvited, beaming as she asked, “I heard you’re going back on the court?”
Shen Keye ignored her, lowering his eyes and raising a hand to shut the door.
Liang Jin held it open. She had caught a cold, and her voice carried a faint nasal tone that made her sound softer than usual. Solemnly, she offered the umbrella. “Thanks for the umbrella yesterday.”
It was the excuse she had come up with.
Shen Keye didn’t take it, his cold gaze fixed on her. “Consider it a gift.”
“I don’t want it.”
Shen Keye let out a light chuckle, looking down at her from above. “You’ve already used it. If you don’t want it, just toss it.”
Liang Jin explained, “It has your name on it. I can’t use it.”
Shen Keye frowned.
Liang Jin said, “I just have a few words to say.”
Shen Keye looked down at her warningly. “Liang Jin, I need to change.”
Only then did Liang Jin notice he had shrugged off his jacket, revealing the white long-sleeved shirt beneath. The soft fabric clung to his lean, sculpted muscles. With Wu Lin’s boyfriend sidelined by injury, Shen Keye was stepping in for him.
Liang Jin belatedly caught the scent clinging to him and furrowed her brow lightly. If she let this chance slip, who knew when—or with what excuse—she’d get to talk to him again. “I just overheard your conversation with Li Yibo.”
She had heard the whole exchange.
Liang Jin knew eavesdropping wasn’t a great habit, so she rushed on. “Song Youhuai hurt your friend, but you can’t touch him.” Restless, she gripped the door tighter and took a deep breath. “But I can.” Having mustered her courage, her voice steadied. “I can make Song Youhuai look like a complete fool.”
Shen Keye eased up on the door. Truth be told, while Li Yibo was scared, he wasn’t—but Liang Jin’s words had sparked his interest. “You?” The word dripped with skepticism.
Liang Jin offered no explanation.
Shen Keye stared into her eyes, suddenly chuckling with a playful glint in his gaze.
Liang Jin knew full well that crossing Shen Keye was far more terrifying than crossing Song Youhuai, but she was the type who never gave up until she got what she wanted. Solemnly, she said, “Shen Keye, before filming on the movie officially starts, I want you to remember me… and consider me.”
Shen Keye betrayed no expression. He reached down to the hem of his shirt, his distinctly knuckled hand not particularly fair-skinned, yet the veins lent it an oddly youthful allure. “Hand.”
“?”
Perplexed, Liang Jin’s heart skipped a beat.
What did he mean?
“Let go,” Shen Keye demanded.
Her hand was pressed against the door. Slightly stunned, she asked, “How…?”
“You can give it a try, but.”
He paused.
The boy in front of her spoke in a tone much lighter and more affectionate than before. He lowered his head to meet her eyes levelly, his pitch-black gaze fixed on her like danger drawing near—still fierce. With a wicked grin, he said, “Classmate Liang Jin, do you really have to watch me take off my shirt?”
Liang Jin’s eyes heated up, her mind blanking out for a moment. She abruptly let go.
~~~
Wu Lin had already bought water and come back. She sat in the stands, fidgeting anxiously. “Li Yibo went to the School Infirmary. It seems pretty serious… He told me to wait for him, so why hasn’t he come back yet?”
She didn’t understand basketball all that well and hadn’t caught any of the gossip. Song Youhuai’s dirty plays had been subtle—even the coach hadn’t called him out on it.
Wu Lin’s eyes reddened.
Liang Jin tried to comfort her. “The coach said it’s nothing.”
“I know. I’m just worried.” Wu Lin’s heart ached.
The second half had already begun.
Inside the Basketball Gym, the harsh screech of sneakers scraping against the floor cut through the air.
Liang Jin’s gaze was drawn to the court.
No. 14, black jersey, forward—Shen Keye.
Black suited him better than white, amplifying that sharp, dangerous edge and making him even more eye-catching.
She still remembered his face up close, magnified and cold. From a distance, Shen Keye was handsome, but close up, the first detail that jumped out was the faint mole just left of his nose bridge. A light smirk only heightened his arrogant swagger. When he leaned in, his masculine breath pressed against her eardrums.
Her eardrums thrummed—thump, thump, thump—like a heartbeat.
“Pass!”
“Good!!! No. 14 takes the ball.”
“Crossover dribble step-back—Shen Keye dishes to—”
“Fake! No pass.”
“City School No. 27 goes for the hook shot steal!!!”
“Shen Keye lean-back jumper!!!”
The guy’s movements were lightning-quick and seamless, slicing through layers of defenders like a gust of wind. She knew he was a sharpshooter, but he could hoop too.
The whole gym erupted, cheers thundering like waves crashing over the court, but Liang Jin’s heart sank lower with every passing second.
She had promised to help Shen Keye get even, but he clearly didn’t need her. Over the twenty minutes of the second half, every one of the HKU Team’s five players had handled the ball—except Song Youhuai.
A couple of them were obviously Song Youhuai’s buddies, trying to feed him passes, but Shen Keye anticipated every one. From tip-off to buzzer, Song Youhuai hadn’t touched the ball once.
The final whistle blew, and HKU claimed victory, 64-55.
Song Youhuai was spent, heaving ragged breaths as he shot a resentful glare at Shen Keye.
Even an idiot could see Shen Keye had been gunning for him.
He stormed over, his voice tight with barely contained fury. “Ah-Ye, what the hell was that?”
Shen Keye’s back was drenched in sweat, wet strands of hair falling over his eyes, but his breathing stayed even. “Nothing,” he said flatly.
Song Youhuai shot back, “I dropped twelve in the first half!”
He’d always schemed to unseat Li Yibo as team captain.
Shen Keye flicked his gaze toward the crowd. Li Yibo was back in the front row, standing next to his girlfriend and Liang Jin.
Liang Jin was watching him.
Shen Keye narrowed his eyes.
In a flash, he cocked his arm back. The basketball rocketed from his hand—fierce, without warning, straight into Song Youhuai’s face.
The gym exploded in gasps.
Song Youhuai sucked in a sharp breath, a guttural groan ripping from his throat as twin streams of blood poured from his nose.
A sharpshooter’s deadly aim and power—his nose bridge had nearly shattered.
Thud. The ball hit the floor.
The black sphere bounced across the orange court in a few lifeless arcs.
Song Youhuai reeled from the blindsiding pain, too stunned to speak. He never imagined Shen Keye would actually throw down, sister be damned—his throat constricted, blood surging.
The coach and staff rushed in from nearby. Everyone stared, but no one dared intervene.
“Next time, don’t steal my stuff.”
As he turned to go, the guy flashed a smirk, his gaze turning ice-cold as he locked eyes with Song Youhuai. “And,” he added after a beat, clapping a light hand on the other’s shoulder and leaning in to murmur, “don’t touch my people.”