Chapter 79

*Campus IF Line — “Reward”*
“Hurry, hurry, hurry—word is Class One and Class Seven got into a fight!”
“Seriously? Class One and Class Seven? Those two classes are worlds apart—why would they fight?”
“Seems like it’s over a girl. I heard Class Seven went to harass a girl from Class One and that’s why they started arguing. The dorm supervisor just went over and still couldn’t stop it. They’re already at the basketball court now.”
…
“Sang-sang, do you think God Xie and the others can win?”
Liu Chengcheng was a little worried. She’d asked around and only then learned that Teng Wenbiao from Class Seven really was a main player on the school basketball team.
She whispered to Qin Sang, “I heard Teng Wenbiao made it into the provincial team back in middle school. Recently it seems some club has been contacting him too. His ability seems pretty strong. God Xie…”
She hesitated, then put it gently: “Even though God Xie’s learning ability is strong and he’ll play basketball once in a while, Teng Wenbiao is a pro after all. A pro’s fundamentals are a whole level above ordinary people. If they really play a physical matchup, can he handle it?”
She’d already said it as tactfully as possible. Xie Yuncheng did play basketball occasionally, but not much. When they passed by the court, most of the time they saw him resting on the side while Jiang Mingyi and a bunch of students from other classes sparred.
Maybe because his ambitions weren’t there, Xie Yuncheng always seemed only mildly interested in basketball.
Besides, it was just casual play. The few times he stepped on court, he played without looking like he had to try very hard.
Every time Liu Chengcheng came over, she only heard the girls watching squeal, and she didn’t even have the mind to watch.
Qin Sang didn’t really understand basketball either. Each time she came to “spectate,” she was absentminded. Just like Liu Chengcheng said, her purpose was never pure.
She lowered her eyes, thinking of the scene not long ago: the boy’s brows and eyes were bold and unrestrained, even his tone carrying a touch of reckless arrogance.
“Don’t worry. I’ll win.”
The rims of Qin Sang’s ears reddened slightly. The hand holding her books unconsciously tightened, her pale knuckles even bulging from the pressure.
“He’ll win.”
Qin Sang answered with certainty.
“Huh?” Liu Chengcheng almost didn’t react. She was a little confused. “How do you know God Xie will win? The other side is a professional player.”
If today were just a friendly match, Liu Chengcheng might have believed Xie Yuncheng would win. Unfortunately it wasn’t. Teng Wenbiao’s strength couldn’t be underestimated. Forget winning—if they didn’t lose too ugly, that would already be the best possible outcome.
And it wasn’t only Liu Chengcheng who thought so. The other onlookers had the same idea. The stands were full of murmuring.
“Why is God Xie on the court? The academic god from Class One—doesn’t he usually hate joining the commotion? I thought he was naturally aloof. Who knew he’d stand up for a girl from his class?”
“God Xie is really so handsome. Before, I only ever saw him from far away during exercises. I didn’t expect to get this close today. What do I do? He feels even better-looking than usual! Without comparison there’s no damage—God Xie’s height against those Class Seven sports specialty guys is actually not inferior at all.”
People in the south were generally shorter. An average height over 177 was already pretty good. And at this age, bodies were still developing; those who stood at the very top of the age group were rare.
Class Seven was mostly athletic standouts, with physical condition to match. Just Teng Wenbiao and those basketball guys were tall and broad. Merely standing there, their height alone made people feel a strong sense of pressure.
But that wasn’t surprising. Athletes were usually well developed, strong all over. What surprised everyone was Xie Yuncheng.
Top students always gave people a refined, quiet impression. Loving study naturally meant worse physical fitness. But now, with an obvious comparison, everyone belatedly realized that Xie Yuncheng’s height wasn’t any worse than Teng Wenbiao’s.
“Tch.” A boy beside them, hearing this, snorted in disdain. “You girls are just infatuated idiots. You watch basketball and you still have to look at faces—then what do you need athletes for? Just send some pretty boys up to twist around a bit and call it a day.”
“Pfft.” The girl who got mocked cursed back. “So only we are ‘infatuated’? We girls look at faces and we’re ‘infatuated,’ but you boys discuss all day which class has the prettiest girls. You appraise girls from head to toe and that’s fine, and you even make some ‘looks ranking.’ What right do you have to score girls? Shameless.”
“Even if God Xie isn’t the best, he’s still better than you trash fish and rotten shrimp. He can stand up for a girl in his own class. Certain people can only babble behind backs and talk bad about others.”
“That’s other people! I’ve never done that!” The boy was flushed red from being retorted at. He simply threw the topic aside in defeat and left one resentful line: “Anyway, just wait and see! Your God Xie is definitely going to get blown up by Teng Wenbiao. Studying well doesn’t mean you’re strong everywhere. He’s going to lose for sure.”
All around, people discussed loudly, one after another predicting that Xie Yuncheng would definitely lose.
Qin Sang stayed silent.
He would win.
“No reason.”
Qin Sang answered Liu Chengcheng in a low voice. “I believe him.”
As long as he said he would win, then he would definitely win.
…
“Basketball was your choice. If you lose, don’t think I bullied you.”
Teng Wenbiao acted magnanimous. “So you don’t think it’s unfair, I’ll give you two balls. How about it?”
He had calculated that Xie Yuncheng wouldn’t accept.
Even though he hadn’t had much contact with Xie Yuncheng, back in the junior-high team days he’d more or less seen it: Xie Yuncheng was proud as hell. A proposal with such obvious humiliation—he would absolutely not accept.
Unexpectedly, before the certainty in his eyes could settle, the other party had already agreed.
The boy looked lazy and casual as he accepted, “Fine.”
…
Teng Wenbiao’s expression changed. It was like he’d been choked by those words. It was too late to regret now.
Others didn’t know, but he knew very well: Xie Yuncheng’s level was not below his. Back when the provincial team was selecting people, the coach had initially favored Xie Yuncheng, not him.
If Xie Yuncheng hadn’t been uninterested and refused, that slot might not have fallen to him.
Jiang Mingyi poured fuel on the fire. “Yo—haven’t seen you in a while, and you’re suddenly talking about ‘fairness’ now?”
Teng Wenbiao played rough and domineering. Against an evenly matched opponent, he could still treat it seriously. But if someone was a bit stronger than him, he started using dirty tricks—his play was filthy.
Jiang Mingyi had suffered his underhanded losses before. Hearing him talk about “fairness” now was basically dark comedy.
Teng Wenbiao’s face immediately darkened. But he’d already said it out loud; taking it back wasn’t realistic. He could only pin his hopes on Xie Yuncheng’s hand.
Teng Wenbiao’s gaze landed on Xie Yuncheng’s right hand, his eyes flickering.
…
The crowd didn’t know about their private sparring. They only saw the academic god standing outside the three-point line, looking like he was about to shoot.
“What’s he doing? Isn’t it a 2v2 matchup?”
“I think I heard Class Seven say Teng Wenbiao gave God Xie two balls for fairness.”
“Huh? Giving balls? You can play like that? Then isn’t Teng Wenbiao at a disadvantage?”
“Are you dumb? That’s only if God Xie can sink them. If he can’t, then he doesn’t gain anything and he loses face too.”
When Xie Yuncheng usually played, he was typically power forward or center—mostly intercepting, blocking, and coordinating with teammates.
But he didn’t like showing off, so no one really knew how good he was.
Generally speaking, giving balls was already humiliating for hot-blooded young players; no one wanted to admit they were the weaker side.
And if you accepted the handicap and still couldn’t sink the shot, then today you’d lose both face and substance.
Almost everyone’s eyes were focused on him. He seemed born to be a source of light—standing in a crowd and still impossible to look away from.
Qin Sang held her breath and waited, her gaze locked on that figure. The sound of the basketball bouncing on the ground—thump after thump—felt like the beat of her own heart.
He jumped from beyond the three-point line. The ball arced from his hands, and the moment it fell into the hoop—
For an inexplicable instant, the entire court went quiet, and Qin Sang nearly cried out in that silence.
Without a doubt, he could do it.
Perhaps because he’d given away two balls and lost the initiative, once the real game began, Teng Wenbiao played much more aggressively.
In a 2v2 matchup, it was basically all about two-person coordination. But on Teng Wenbiao’s side, they defended fiercely, locking Xie Yuncheng down.
In this difficult situation, the two sides’ scores stayed nearly tied. Everyone had thought this would be a one-sided slaughter. But Xie Yuncheng and Jiang Mingyi coordinated seamlessly, their level not below Teng Wenbiao’s. By the second half, there were even faint signs they might overtake.
Teng Wenbiao immediately panicked. He signaled with his eyes; his lackey understood.
On a basketball court, bumps were inevitable, and a certain degree of contact was allowed. But when Teng Wenbiao checked Xie Yuncheng, he did it viciously—seemingly on purpose, ramming his right hand.
In the final rebound scramble, the two of them coordinated front and back and deliberately threw elbows. Xie Yuncheng reacted fast and raised his hand to block, but even so it was unavoidable—his hand bone was injured by the impact.
Such an obvious foul— even Qin Sang, an outsider, could see it.
Liu Chengcheng felt stifled. “Teng Wenbiao is way too much. He’s so dirty. And the ref doesn’t call it? Isn’t this just collusion—deliberately running a rigged game?”
This wasn’t an official match. The court’s formal rules didn’t apply. Rather than playing ball, Teng Wenbiao seemed to be using “playing ball” as an excuse to vent personal grudges.
“Fuck.” Jiang Mingyi couldn’t help swearing. “Are you sick? Teng Wenbiao, it’s just a game—do you have to be like this?”
Teng Wenbiao had always loved small moves. Back in the team, he’d done plenty to other players. Whoever had the potential to stand out would get jointly targeted by him—afraid someone else would steal his spotlight.
Jiang Mingyi had long disliked his style, which was why they’d clashed and argued many times before.
He didn’t expect Teng Wenbiao to escalate—getting more and more excessive. Those shady little tricks of his had actually been brought onto the court.
Teng Wenbiao didn’t care. He sneered. “If you can’t play, then concede. What are you whining about?”
“You—”
Jiang Mingyi was impulsive. He really wanted to teach him a lesson right then.
But Xie Yuncheng stopped him. With a half-smile, he gave a low scoff. “What are you showing off for? There are still five minutes.”
“Five minutes?” Teng Wenbiao laughed arrogantly. “Forget five minutes. With you like this, even if you had fifteen more minutes, so what? You can’t catch up.”
“See that?” He pointed to the scoreboard beside them. “You’re about to lose.”
Xie Yuncheng’s expression stayed calm—no sign of discouragement. He only curled his lip in mockery. “What? Talking so much—are you afraid I’ll overtake you?”
“You? Overtake?” Teng Wenbiao glanced at his hand. “In the past I might’ve believed it. Now? I bet you don’t even have the strength to hold the ball.”
Xie Yuncheng gave a scoff. “Before the final second, how do you know you’re definitely the winner?”
Teng Wenbiao only tugged his mouth. He raised his thumb and sliced it across his throat, his expression full of disdain.
In the last five minutes, because the physical contact was intense and a player was injured—plus the crowd was fired up—the originally near one-sided cheering gradually turned into a balance of two opposing sides.
Even the boys who had blindly worshiped Teng Wenbiao at the start began to lean toward Xie Yuncheng.
At the final moment, Teng Wenbiao began guarding Jiang Mingyi, no longer treating Xie Yuncheng as an opponent.
After several steals, Jiang Mingyi still couldn’t get a shot off. With one minute left, Teng Wenbiao was already certain of victory. As he blocked Jiang Mingyi, his eyes carried the joy and contempt of imminent triumph.
He pressed into Jiang Mingyi’s path, reaching to snatch the ball—when the next second Jiang Mingyi feinted, successfully passing the ball out of his hands.
In Xie Yuncheng’s blind spot, where Teng Wenbiao had neglected to cover, Xie Yuncheng hooked the ball and jumped. The ball barely brushed the rim, spinning and spinning, and finally dropped into the net.
“Ahhh!”
The court suddenly erupted in intense cheers.
“They won—God Xie won!”
Liu Chengcheng, thrilled, grabbed Qin Sang and jumped.
Qin Sang nearly cried with joy. She couldn’t help laughing aloud. “I knew it.”
She knew it—he would definitely win.
Maybe her gaze was too intense. The person surrounded at the center seemed to sense it and lifted his eyes, looking straight toward her.
The pale-gold afterglow outlined the boy’s lean, strong figure. His superior brows and eyes seemed dusted with fine gold leaf—bright, dazzling, as passionate and deep as blazing fire.
He came against the flow of people, step by step, until he stopped in front of her.
“Sang-sang.”
He called her name with a crooked smile. “I won.”
The evening breeze ruffled the boy’s fluffy, damp black hair. He lowered his head and eyes, calling her name in a gentle voice—like that big golden retriever Xiao Yan used to keep.
Warm, loyal.
Like he was wagging his tail at her, asking for a treat.
Qin Sang’s heart was warmed and baked by that heat. Her fingers itched. Finally, she couldn’t hold back and lifted her hand—like soothing a dog—boldly rubbing the tips of his hair. “So good. So good.”
But the next second she woke as if from a dream, her palm burning. She realized how outrageous her action was. In full view of everyone, she’d actually gotten carried away and treated him like Xiao Yan’s pet puppy.
Qin Sang’s cheeks heated. When she tried to pull her hand back, the boy instead took the opportunity to clasp her wrist. His scorching palm pressed against soft skin, the searing heat nearly melting her.
“Then—”
His brows and eyes were clear and bright like jade, but the smile in his eyes was like syrup that wouldn’t dissolve. “Master, would you be willing to give me a little reward?”