Chapter 17: The Wristbands with Fuzzballs Prove Their Worth

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When Ling Huanzhen saw those words, he burst into tears. He had not shed a single tear when he retired, yet now he was crying his eyes out.

Even if the other person was a con artist, he was unquestionably a con artist who knew Sheng Xingming very well.

Ling Huanzhen was willing to make the trip if it meant he could talk about his old friend with someone else.

At half past eight that evening, Little Fatty ordered another mountain of late-night snacks. Xia Chiyi helped him carry the bulging plastic bags upstairs. They had just reached the corner of the second floor when they passed Zhou Zhexiao, who was walking by with his hands in his pockets.

“Zhou Zhexiao, where are you going?” Xia Chiyi asked.

“Someone asked to meet me. I’m heading out for a while.”

“Someone’s actually coming to meet you? Do you even know your way around? What time does the gate close tonight?” Xia Chiyi asked.

“Eleven.”

“Good.” Xia Chiyi nodded. The boy was growing up; he could not interfere with his social life.

He took a cup of milk tea and a straw from one of the plastic bags. “I ordered one for you too. Drink it on the way.”

After Zhou Zhexiao accepted it, he stared at the cup for a moment. Xia Chiyi had already gone upstairs when his cheerful voice floated down.

“Shake it before you drink it!”

A little over ten minutes later, Zhou Zhexiao arrived at a barbecue stall a few hundred meters outside the school. Many people were already eating at the tiny tables. The most conspicuous figure was a man wearing sunglasses. His legs were so long that he looked awkward perched on the little stool.

The man pressed his lips together, evidently already out of patience. Every now and then he glanced at the time on his phone and muttered, “I’ve been played, haven’t I? Why the hell did I believe in a scam like this?”

In the few short minutes he had been there, several groups of people had already come over to ask whether he was the basketball player who had recently retired and appeared on the trending searches.

The sunglasses could hide his face, but they could not conceal his height of over two meters.

Ling Huanzhen told himself that if the other person did not show up within one more minute, he was leaving.

Carrying his milk tea, Zhou Zhexiao sauntered over. He nudged the chair opposite with his toe and sprawled down in front of him.

“You’re here. Have you ordered the skewers?”

Ling Huanzhen looked up. His sunglasses slipped down the bridge of his nose.

“You... aren’t you Zhou Zhexiao, the one from the video?”

Without changing expression, Zhou Zhexiao shook the milk tea in his hand several times. Then he took out the straw and began drinking right in front of Ling Huanzhen.

One tiny black pearl after another rose through the straw. Zhou Zhexiao bit down. The brown-sugar flavor was overwhelmingly rich, sweet enough to numb the tip of his tongue. The pearls themselves, however, were soft and springy, with a texture he had never experienced before.

“I’m also Sheng Xingming.”

Ling Huanzhen continued to stare in utter shock. Only after a long while did he manage to speak.

“The Sheng Xingming I knew would never drink something this sweet. What kind of demon are you?”

“I’m still young. My metabolism is faster than yours.” Zhou Zhexiao glanced at him, then said, “Ah, thank goodness. You’re not bald.”

He launched baldness attacks at every opportunity... There was no doubt about it. This was the great demon king.

Ling Huanzhen remained incredulous. Aside from the face, everything about this person—from his tone and expression to that unbearably smug, provoking air—was exactly like Sheng Xingming.

“Is this some kind of celebrity impersonation show? Are there cameras hidden around here?” Ling Huanzhen looked around.

“I’ve found the heart I was searching for. If I ever fall into a desperate situation, I believe he will break through every limitation for me and create an entirely new world. Ling Huanzhen, as a god who has descended from the mountain, are you willing to lend me a hand? Will you come with me and accompany him up that mountain once more?”

Ling Huanzhen stood frozen. He knew he should not believe it. He knew it was impossible for any of this to be real. He came up with countless reasons to deny it, telling himself that he was merely too empty after retiring.

Yet the blood in his chest refused to cool.

In the eyes of the young university student before him, he seemed to have returned to the glorious peak of ten years ago.

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The applause was ours. The boundless glory was ours too.

The important thing was not the applause, nor the boundless glory.

It was the word “ours.”

Ling Huanzhen closed his eyes and sighed. “If you can tell me one more secret of mine, I’ll believe you.”

“Oh.” Zhou Zhexiao leaned his head back, and in that instant overlapped with the great demon king from ten years ago. Ling Huanzhen suddenly felt as though he was courting death.

“In the locker room, you used Jiao Yingfeng’s wristband to hit your hand...”

Ling Huanzhen’s soul nearly left his body. He immediately lunged forward and covered Zhou Zhexiao’s mouth. If he could, he would have strangled the man on the spot.

Apart from that great demon king, Ling Huanzhen refused to believe that a third person knew this secret.

“It was because that wristband had pilled up, so it felt better to use! It had nothing to do with Jiao Yingfeng! You can try it yourself if you don’t believe me!”

“All right, then.” Though Zhou Zhexiao’s mouth was covered, his eyes clearly said, I don’t believe you.

“Well? What are you planning to do?” Ling Huanzhen asked, his voice filled with helplessness and extreme excitement.

At ten fifty-nine that night, Xia Chiyi paced back and forth in front of the dormitory’s iron gate. Every so often he craned his neck to look down the road. The dorm supervisor had already reached the gate and was about to perform his duty when Zhou Zhexiao finally appeared beneath the streetlights, hands in his pockets, strolling along at his leisure.

“Run! They’re about to close the gate!” Xia Chiyi waved at him anxiously.

Zhou Zhexiao either had not heard him or simply did not know that returning late would cause their class to lose points. He showed no intention of speeding up.

Even the dorm supervisor grew anxious watching him.

The supervisor deliberately began counting down, trying to create a tense atmosphere. Several students who were also returning late broke into a run, but Zhou Zhexiao remained utterly unmoved.

Xia Chiyi gritted his teeth and dashed out.

“Hey, student...” The dorm supervisor saw only his frantic back.

He ran toward Zhou Zhexiao at full speed, his hair flying back and exposing his forehead, urgency filling his eyes.

When he seized Zhou Zhexiao’s hand, his heart suddenly seemed to hang weightless, as if it were about to leap out of his chest.

Zhou Zhexiao began moving with him. The two of them drew closer and closer to the gate. Although they were already several seconds late, the dorm supervisor, seeing how hard Xia Chiyi was trying, decided to give them another five seconds.

During the final few steps, Zhou Zhexiao ran ahead of Xia Chiyi. As they passed between the iron gates, he suddenly turned back, hooked an arm around Xia Chiyi’s waist, and lifted him off the ground.

The instant his feet left the earth, Xia Chiyi instinctively grabbed Zhou Zhexiao by the collar. The force seemed to be carrying him somewhere impossibly high. The lights shone against his face, dazzling him, but when he lowered his head, all he saw were Zhou Zhexiao’s eyes.

Xia Chiyi did not understand why Zhou Zhexiao had suddenly lifted him. Yet in that moment, he seemed to see Sheng Xingming as he had been ten years ago—the man lifting him up and placing him on his shoulders, telling him:

“One day, you’ll grow taller. You’ll grow up. Even the point you aim for when you shoot will change. But there is one thing that will never change. There will always be many people who worked hard before you to raise you up, hoping you will reach the peak they themselves could never attain.”

His heart was beating so fast.

The Zhou Zhexiao before him possessed an aura of such unwavering resolve that Xia Chiyi could not look away.

The dorm supervisor’s reprimand brought Xia Chiyi back to himself. The man lectured them about being punctual in the future.

Xia Chiyi rubbed the back of his head and apologized repeatedly.

Then Zhou Zhexiao spoke. His solemn “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again” instantly dispelled the dorm supervisor’s anger.

As they went upstairs, Xia Chiyi asked whom he had gone to meet and whether they had had a good time talking.

When they reached the turn in the staircase, Zhou Zhexiao suddenly tugged at him.

“What is it?”

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“Your wristband has started to pill,” Zhou Zhexiao said.

Xia Chiyi raised his wrist and looked at it. “Oh, this? I keep saying I’m going to replace it, but I forget every time.”

Zhou Zhexiao stared at the little pills of fabric. His dark, deep-set eyes seemed to be capturing something.

Xia Chiyi opened the dormitory door. Little Fatty was washing up. Ye Chaoying lay flat on his bed with a black facial mask spread across his face, earphones plugged in as he watched some mindless video.

“I’ll trade with you,” Zhou Zhexiao said.

“Trade... trade what?” Xia Chiyi asked, bewildered.

“The wristband.”

With that, Zhou Zhexiao took a wristband from his cabinet—the one he had worn when he had utterly crushed Gao Qing. It was dark red, and its quality was immediately apparent. Most importantly, the brand alone made it clear that the thing was expensive.

“Mine cost ten yuan for three. Trading with you would be a terrible deal for me,” Xia Chiyi said with a laugh.

“It’s pilled. I need it.”

Only then did Xia Chiyi understand that the point was not the exchange. Zhou Zhexiao simply needed a wristband that had started to pill.

“Here. I was going to throw it away anyway. You don’t have to trade with me.” Xia Chiyi laughingly pressed the wristband into his hand.

But Zhou Zhexiao was very serious as he put his own wristband onto Xia Chiyi’s wrist.

The man was a neat freak. He had washed the wristband on the very day he had finished playing basketball, and it carried the same citrus-scented sports detergent as Xia Chiyi’s clothes.

“Thanks.” Xia Chiyi touched it. Exchanging wristbands with a teammate seemed to create a special connection between them, warming him from the inside.

“Give it back to me when it pills,” Zhou Zhexiao said.

Xia Chiyi sighed helplessly. “Got it!”

What was wrong with him? Was he some kind of fabric-pill collector?

Zhou Zhexiao pulled out his chair and saw a half-finished cup of milk tea on the desk. He picked it up without thinking and turned around.

“Whose is this?”

Little Fatty happened to come out after washing up. The moment he heard the question, he shook his head like a rattle.

“Not mine! I’d never leave any behind!”

Ye Chaoying’s earphones had just fallen out. After hearing Zhou Zhexiao’s question, he lazily replied, “Not mine. I already threw my takeout trash downstairs.”

At that moment, Xia Chiyi felt extremely awkward. They had only just exchanged wristbands amicably—were they now about to come to blows because Xia Chiyi had left his trash lying around?

“Um... I put it there without thinking because I was waiting for you to come back...” Xia Chiyi raised his hand.

Zhou Zhexiao lowered his eyes and stirred the brown-sugar pearls settled at the bottom with the straw, gently shaking the cup to separate them. Xia Chiyi had no idea what he was trying to do. Then, unexpectedly, the man lowered his head and moved to put his mouth on the straw.

“Hey—” Xia Chiyi hurriedly caught hold of him and lowered his voice. “That’s what I already drank from!”

“I want to eat the black pearls inside,” Zhou Zhexiao replied.

Xia Chiyi quickly glanced back. Little Fatty had already climbed into bed and begun his journey through a power fantasy novel. Ye Chaoying had gone into the bathroom to remove his facial mask.

Fortunately, no one had seen.