Chapter 2: Shifting Tides and Sudden Storms, All for Just One Hundred and Twenty

Summer Chiyi recognized him almost immediately, for the fellow’s appearance was like an enlarged, proportionate version of his childhood self—remarkably handsome and striking.

“Hey,” Summer Chiyi approached and tapped his knuckles on the table. “Zhou Zhexiao?”

The young man seemed to drift back from another realm, turning his head to look at Summer Chiyi. “Hmm.”

Just a single syllable, yet Summer Chiyi felt a strange sensation of weightlessness. Such a calm, unruffled demeanor was hardly typical for an eighteen-year-old.

“Um... I’m Summer Chiyi.”

“I know. You haven’t changed much since you were a kid,” Zhou Zhexiao replied.

“You still remember?” Summer Chiyi brushed back the wisps of hair at his forehead, revealing the bite marks from their childhood.

Regrettably, Zhou Zhexiao showed no trace of guilt.

“Of course. When you were eight, you attended the children’s basketball camp in Seattle.”

“Huh?” Summer Chiyi was puzzled; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall Zhou Zhexiao ever being there.

Zhou Zhexiao glanced toward the McDonald’s counter. “I want a burger.”

“Oh... okay, sure.”

At this hour, it was only natural that Zhou Zhexiao was hungry.

Summer Chiyi thought to himself that since he had spent a small fortune to pick Zhou Zhexiao up, it would only be fair to get him a burger.

He indulged and ordered a combo with chicken nuggets and a cola—a proper late-night calorie bomb.

While scanning the QR code, the attendant half-joked, “I was wondering why the handsome guy wasn’t ordering anything—turns out he’s been waiting for you all along.”

Thinking of Zhou Zhexiao’s antique phone and his lost wallet, Summer Chiyi chuckled, “Maybe he just can’t afford to eat.”

“Nope,” the attendant shook her head. “Several people have tried to buy him food, but he always refuses. Clearly, he’s just waiting for you.”

Summer Chiyi paused, surprised by the number of people who had approached him. He looked back at Zhou Zhexiao—indeed, looks could serve as sustenance.

He gently pushed the tray toward Zhou Zhexiao and said with a faint voice, “Go ahead, eat.”

“Thank you.”

Admitting to himself, Summer Chiyi had held a slight prejudice against Zhou Zhexiao as a playboy. That simple “thank you” unexpectedly made him feel flattered.

Zhou Zhexiao unwrapped the burger and bit off a third of it in one go. Yet, the way he quietly chewed with his eyes lowered gave him an unusually obedient air, softening Summer Chiyi’s heart—so different from the cheeky boy of their youth.

The silence between them grew thick, awkward even, prompting Summer Chiyi to break it.

“I heard several people tried to buy you food here?”

“Yeah.” Zhou Zhexiao nodded, opening the box of chicken nuggets with slender fingers.

Another “yeah.” Couldn’t he say something else?

“What kind of people? How did they approach you?” Summer Chiyi lifted his chin.

“A middle-aged man with slicked-back hair asked if I wanted to be a car model at a weekend auto show.”

“That sounds good. If it were me, I wouldn’t refuse. I’m always looking for ways to earn extra living expenses.”

“When I had that car accident, it was that brand. The safety wasn’t good enough.”

“That’s an unbeatable reason.” Summer Chiyi took a sip of his soda—true to its nickname, the ‘happy water,’ it lifted his spirits. The more he looked at Zhou Zhexiao, the more docile he seemed. “Anyone else?”

“There was one who asked if I wanted to join a trainee audition.”

Summer Chiyi covered his mouth, stifling a laugh. “Why did you refuse?”

“I don’t like bald men.”

“Cough cough...” Such an indiscriminate attack was beyond Summer Chiyi’s expectations.

“Ningchang is a second- or third-tier city, so the chance of scouts showing up is about as likely as winning three thousand yuan in a lottery. That guy’s unreliable. It’s a pity—these days, those weirdos in the auditions aren’t nearly as good as you. The entertainment industry just missed out big time.”

Zhou Zhexiao looked at him, a faint trace of confusion in his indifferent amber eyes. “But your appearance is better.”

“Me? Better?” Summer Chiyi gestured to himself. “In what way?”

Had Zhou Zhexiao really ‘grown up’ enough to kindly compliment others?

“The ankle is slender and sharp; the Achilles tendon extends smoothly up to a third of your calf, lines fluid and tense.” Zhou Zhexiao turned his face slightly downward, eyes tracing slowly upward from the ankle. “Your calf muscles are firm with a high arch, and your buttocks...”

Though his gaze was objectively assessing, the warmth coursing from Summer Chiyi’s toes up through his body to his heart betrayed the effect of those words.

“Stop, stop... thank you.” Summer Chiyi quickly pushed his chicken nuggets over to Zhou Zhexiao, unwilling to hear further commentary on his posterior.

“Why are your neck and ears red?”

“I’m eating your chicken nuggets.”

Zhou Zhexiao immediately fell silent, quietly eating.

Nonetheless, Summer Chiyi felt comforted. Zhou Zhexiao’s appraisal wasn’t about mere facial beauty, but rather an evaluation of his physique as if selecting basketball athletes.

“But I still got cut,” Summer Chiyi murmured softly to himself.

He thought Zhou Zhexiao hadn’t heard, but the latter asked, “Cut by whom?”

Looking up, Summer Chiyi noticed Zhou Zhexiao’s amber eyes shining with clarity under the light—seemingly quiet and harmless, yet with a piercing intensity that made one feel utterly exposed once caught in his gaze.

“The coach of the provincial team in Jin Province,” Summer Chiyi replied. “But it’s fine—I managed to get into university on my own, so it’s okay.”

Friends and family had comforted him, saying an athlete’s peak is brief. Being selected for the provincial team is already one in a million; becoming a star even rarer. A degree from a prestigious university is more practical.

He had spent the entire summer digesting and accepting this, yet the regret lingered.

“Who’s that coach?” Zhou Zhexiao asked again.

“Ma Hongming, Coach Ma. You know him?”

Zhou Zhexiao’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

Summer Chiyi was certain he saw contempt in his eyes.

“It’s been over ten years, and he hasn’t improved his poor judgment one bit. He’s good at filtering out gold.”

“Coach Ma is famous; he has evaluated more newcomers than you’ve eaten grains of salt.”

Zhou Zhexiao had spent his middle school years across the ocean; he knew little of domestic coaches.

Besides, ten years ago, Zhou Zhexiao was just an eight-year-old kid—what could he know?

“Ling Huanzhen and Jiao Yingfeng were both cut by him,” Zhou Zhexiao answered.

Summer Chiyi froze. Those two were players who had made their mark starting from the NCAA a decade ago, hailed alongside Sheng Xingming as the Golden Generation.

They later excelled in the CBA, China’s professional league. Though not as accomplished as Sheng Xingming, they were respected names in national basketball.

If even they had been cut by Coach Ma... Summer Chiyi had to admit he felt somewhat consoled.

“Anything else you want to eat? Feel free to order!” Summer Chiyi said generously, lifting his chin.

“I’m sleepy.” Zhou Zhexiao’s eyelids drooped; just as they were about to close, he raised a hand to rub them.

That obedient look came over him again, and Summer Chiyi nearly reached out to ruffle his hair.

“Let’s go then.” Summer Chiyi stood and gestured for him to follow.

Though their childhood encounters had been painful, Summer Chiyi realized in just a few words that Zhou Zhexiao was straightforward and genuine, which suited him well.

Zhou Zhexiao walked silently behind him with hands in his pockets. Upon exiting the terminal, Summer Chiyi found such quietness unusual. Turning around, he saw Zhou Zhexiao half asleep, eyes closed, drifting toward the glass wall.

Just before his nose collided with it, Summer Chiyi grabbed the back of his collar, discovering the imposing presence of this guy’s stature.

At 186 cm, Summer Chiyi was already tall among Southern boys. Zhou Zhexiao, previously seated, was now staggering backward—he must be about 192 cm tall!

“Hey, wake up. That’s a wall, not a door.”

“Oh.” Zhou Zhexiao replied with a nasal voice, still drowsy.

Summer Chiyi placed his hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him away from the glass.

The night breeze stirred Zhou Zhexiao awake. Seeing the empty driveway, he muttered, “No cars.”

Summer Chiyi laughed. “Someone using a Nokia 5230, do you know how to use an app to call a ride?”

“No,” Zhou Zhexiao answered honestly, his head bobbing like a fishing lure, sometimes dipping low, sometimes barely lifting.

Summer Chiyi unlocked his phone. It was nearly three in the morning. “Hey, no more sleeping for now.”

“Hm?” Zhou Zhexiao looked up, rubbing his eyes; his tousled hair fluttered in the night breeze.

“We’ll probably get back to school around four a.m. The dormitory gate will be closed, and even if we climb over, your bed is just a wooden plank. Let’s find a place to crash for a few hours, then head back at dawn.”

“Okay.” Zhou Zhexiao nodded.

Summer Chiyi asked, “My monthly allowance is limited. We’ll only sleep a few hours, so I’ll book the cheapest place. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No.”

“All right.” Summer Chiyi searched for a budget-friendly, well-rated guesthouse and ordered a ride.

When the car arrived, Summer Chiyi shook the nearly sliding-off Zhou Zhexiao awake and helped him into the back seat.

They arrived at the guesthouse, located inside an office building. Summer Chiyi entered the code, and the door clicked open.

The moment the lights came on, Summer Chiyi felt an electric shock freeze his body.

“What is this?”

The lighting was a warm amber, illuminating a wild leopard-print round bed with a cheap plastic rose at its center. Floor-to-ceiling window curtains parted slowly, revealing the distant office building lights.

The bathroom had frosted glass—any light turned on would outline every movement clearly.

Summer Chiyi’s shoulders twitched. This was the cheapest and highest-rated room within a half-hour drive from the airport.

A place for passion, all for just 120 yuan.

The problem was... would the police raid for prostitution? Two young men getting caught would be embarrassing!

Summer Chiyi pulled out his phone again and glanced at the room photos—how had he mistaken leopard print for zebra stripes? He had thought it charming at the time.

The room’s advertisement promised: “Once you check in, you’ll never want to leave. Unlimited rolling space—there’s nothing you can’t do here!”

Summer Chiyi stiffly looked at Zhou Zhexiao, dozing by the door, unsure whether to wake him or not.