Chapter 9

Climbing the last step, he took out his keys and opened the door.
The air conditioner inside blew away the heat clinging to his body. He changed shoes, sat back down on the sofa, and replied: [You’ve got this.]
This time, Mianmian didn’t type back. Instead, she sent an eight-second voice message.
Ji Zhou first heard a soft laugh, then the girl’s teasing voice, deliberately slowed: “Doctor, has anyone ever said you’re kind of… wooden? Like a human-shaped bot?”
Her nasal tone wasn’t as heavy as yesterday, and her voice wasn’t as hoarse either—her cold must have gotten a bit better.
Ji Zhou tapped it and listened again.
Mianmian’s voice matched her looks perfectly: clear, sweet, soft, with no edge at all—making you very willing, very willing to keep chatting with her.
Joice: [No.]
Mianmian: [If we get more familiar, you won’t be like this?]
Joice: [Mm.]
Mianmian: [Then how do I get more familiar with you? Can I chase you?]
Joice: […]
A long silence—though maybe it wasn’t all that long.
Ji Zhou didn’t turn on the TV today. Outside the window, cicadas chirped without end, stirring his restlessness.
Another voice message came through. Mianmian spoke with a smile; her rising ending carried a hint of coquettishness.
“Doctor, are you easy to chase?”
Are you easy to chase?
Ji Zhou thought about the question seriously.
He didn’t know where the line for “easy to chase” was, but he felt he handled things fairly gently.
At the very least, his colleagues and patients all had positive evaluations of him.
A sudden ringtone interrupted his thoughts. Ji Zhou glanced at the caller ID—it was Chen Huai. He answered casually.
“Hello.”
“What time do you get off tomorrow?” Chen Huai asked, getting straight to the point.
“I’m off tomorrow.”
“Hey—what a coincidence. I’m off too. I was only going to ask you to have dinner, but since you’re free in the daytime too, want to go play ball?” Chen Huai invited.
Ji Zhou hardly hesitated. “Sure.”
“By the way, that magazine I gave you last time—how was it?”
Ji Zhou fell silent for a beat. “So-so.”
“So-so meaning…” Chen Huai drew out the words, testing him.
“Too muscular,” Ji Zhou answered honestly.
“Alright, then I know what you mean.” Chen Huai said. “Same place as usual tomorrow. Ten o’clock okay?”
“Okay,” Ji Zhou said.
“Then see you tomorrow.”
Just as he was about to hang up, Ji Zhou suddenly said, “I want to ask you something.”
“What is it? Go on.”
“Do you think I’m easy to chase?”
Chen Huai was his childhood friend. From elementary school all the way through high school, they’d been in the same school and almost inseparable. Even though they went different ways in college, they’d kept in touch. Chen Huai understood his character and temperament better than anyone.
“You?” Chen Huai’s tone rose slightly. “What do you think?”
Ji Zhou didn’t know why the question got tossed back to him. He said, “I think I’m pretty easygoing.”
“Ha,” Chen Huai let out a snort. “You really have zero clear awareness of yourself. How many junior girls’ hearts have you broken? You don’t remember?”
“Bro, you’re not easy to chase at all. At least for now, girls can’t chase you down. As for men… that’s still up for debate.”
“You’re really… very, very, very hard to deal with.”
He didn’t hold back at all. Ji Zhou said calmly, “Hanging up.”
“Hey, I’m telling the truth—don’t be mad, okay? Hello… are we still playing ball tomorrow?”
The call ended. Ji Zhou switched back to Seek’s chat window and, oddly reassured, typed two words: [Easy to chase.]
Two minutes later, he received Mianmian’s reply: [Would you consider online dating?]
Joice: [Never tried.]
Mianmian: [Want to try with me?]
Ji Zhou thought for a moment and replied: [Too fast.]
Mianmian: [Doctor, you really know how to tease.]
-
The next day, Ji Zhou arrived at the court ten minutes early. After changing clothes and shoes, he came out to find Chen Huai already there—with a stranger beside him.
“Brother Ji,” Chen Huai waved.
Ji Zhou lifted his chin slightly as a greeting.
When they drew close, Chen Huai hooked an arm over Ji Zhou’s shoulder. “I was really afraid you wouldn’t come.”
“Not that bad,” Ji Zhou said.
“Come, let me introduce you.” Chen Huai gestured to the person beside him. “My college classmate, Qiu Yi.”
Ji Zhou extended his hand. “Hello.”
Chen Huai continued, “Xiao Yi, this is the guy I always talk about—my best bro, Ji Zhou.”
The man’s fair face flushed all the way to his ears. He said softly, “Hello.”
They shook hands briefly. Chen Huai said, “Xiao Yi, go change first. Brother Ji and I will wait here for you.”
Qiu Yi lowered his voice. “Mm.”
Ji Zhou turned to Chen Huai. “What about you?”
Only after watching the other man walk away did Chen Huai say, “I’m not playing. My foot hurts. I’ll just watch you guys.”
“Your foot hurts and you still asked to play ball?” Ji Zhou asked.
Chen Huai pushed Ji Zhou down onto a nearby bench. “Play, of course. We’re still playing. A new friend will play with you.”
Ji Zhou: […]
Chen Huai really was a dog. He hadn’t even brought a racket, sitting off to the side as leisurely as if he were watching a match.
Qiu Yi’s skills weren’t great, and his stamina wasn’t either. Ji Zhou ran him all over the court. After less than an hour, Qiu Yi was panting hard. “Can’t win. Can’t win.”
Chen Huai brought them water. Then he pulled Ji Zhou aside and lowered his voice. “Couldn’t you go a little easier on him?”
Ji Zhou’s face didn’t change. “I did.”
“Did my ass. Those smashes of yours were so vicious. Are you trying to go to the Olympics?” Chen Huai cursed under his breath. “You had him running like a dog. What kind of behavior is that?”
Ji Zhou denied it. “No.”
He honestly thought he’d already held back.
Qiu Yi sat on the bench and wiped his sweat, looking over at them.