With two people accompanying Chi Yu as he left, the remaining few didn’t hesitate for long before returning to their own fun. The excitement of the crowd watching the commotion had already faded by more than half, and only a few were still peeking in this direction. Staff at the barbecue restaurant kept order, calling out several queue numbers, about half of the waiting area had already gone in, and with fewer people left standing around, even more of them lost interest.
Some scrolled through their phones, replied to messages, ate snacks, or played games while waiting for their numbers to be called. Others, lacking patience, casually tossed their queue slips onto the benches and went off to find another place for dinner.
The staff from the venue had originally intended to say a few more words to Chi Tong, but when he got closer and noticed the faint trembling in Chi Tong’s hand, he changed his mind and instead said to the man beside him, Lin Xing, “Sir, if you intend to spend money here, you can follow me. If not…”
His words trailed off, but the meaning was clear.
Lin Xing nodded. “I understand.” He hadn’t actually come here to spend money in the first place, his own barbecue hadn’t even been finished yet.
The escalation earlier had happened too fast, leaving Lin Xing somewhat dazed and not sure of what exactly had occurred. But because he already had a favorable impression of Chi Tong, even though certain parts felt off, such as the wound on Chi Yu’s face, he subconsciously made excuses for Chi Tong.
Being outnumbered yet ending up the one who fought back more effectively didn’t quite add up, and the fact that the injured party had insisted on not calling the police only made it more suspicious. Just how badly must someone have been beaten to refuse reporting it?
Lin Xing followed the staff’s suggestion and was about to leave, but when he turned his head and saw Chi Tong still standing there without moving, he stopped mid-step.
“Um,” Lin Xing said cautiously, “they’ve all left now. It’s fine.”
Chi Tong didn’t seem to hear him. The staff member who had walked a short distance away glanced back in their direction.
Was he too shaken from earlier? Or had he been frightened? Lin Xing couldn’t tell.
Seeing the staff looking over again made Lin Xing a little anxious. He knew that places like this usually had people with some level of influence behind them, and when they politely asked you to leave, it was best for ordinary people not to cause trouble.
At this point, it didn’t seem wise to keep interfering. In a rush, Lin Xing reached out and grabbed Chi Tong’s wrist, trying to pull him slightly aside.
Just as his hand closed around Chi Tong’s forearm, he felt something cold and damp against his own hand, condensation from the ice-cream wrapper he’d been holding and forgotten about.
Embarrassed, Lin Xing quickly let go. “Sorry, I didn’t notice.”
Chi Tong had only registered the surrounding noise as dull and hazy, his thoughts clogged like traffic in a massive jam that couldn’t be sorted out. But the cold droplets on Lin Xing’s hand acted like a sudden physical jolt, bringing a faint sense of clarity, as though clouds were parting to reveal blue sky.
Slowly, Chi Tong turned his head to look at Lin Xing. Lin Xing was rummaging in his pocket for tissues, only to realize awkwardly that he’d thrown away the last one earlier at the restroom.
To Chi Tong, Lin Xing hadn’t been standing there long, nor had he been one of the people who’d blocked his way earlier. In his perception, Lin Xing had appeared out of nowhere, as if conjured by magic, standing right beside him.
But of course, people can’t suddenly appear through sleight of hand. Chi Tong knew he had drifted out of sync with the outside world again. There was a faint trace of confusion in his eyes as he looked at Lin Xing with unusual focus, as if trying to pick out some familiar shadow in his face that might trigger a memory.
Chi Tong was simply looking at him, but from Lin Xing’s perspective, Chi Tong’s eyelashes were half-lowered as he gazed over, his eyes extremely clear and transparent in feeling.
That level of good looks was already unfair on its own, paired with such an expression, it felt like a direct hit to Lin Xing’s chest, almost knocking the wind out of him.
Lin Xing didn’t even bother worrying about the lack of tissues anymore. He quietly hid the hand Chi Tong had just touched behind his back, wiped it against his T-shirt, brushed off the moisture, and then grinned at him.
“Just now—” He’d originally meant to bring up the earlier altercation, but then suddenly realized the person involved might not want it mentioned, and as a stranger, he wasn’t in any position to ask about the details. It might be private.
So he quickly changed course at the last moment and said a common local greeting instead: “Have you eaten?”
Chi Tong was gradually withdrawing from his earlier state, but his reactions were still a bit slow. He answered plainly, “No.”
Lin Xing had only asked out of reflex, to cover his own impulsive wording, but after hearing the answer, he felt an unexpected little spark of happiness.
If he invited him to dinner outright now, would that be too abrupt? Lin Xing hesitated, though he did genuinely want to invite him.
At this moment, Lin Xing no longer felt that running into “Half Pool” was some unlucky twist of fate that wouldn’t let him go. Instead, he even felt a faint sense of contentment, as if this might actually be something like a fated meeting.
As long as he held onto his online identity tightly, then in front of “Half Pool” he was just an ordinary college student. They could have a pure beginning, a bright future.
Lin Xing cleared his throat. “Then, would you like to—”
“Lin Xingxing!”
His words were cut off by a shout from behind him.
Why was it that “Xingxing” again!
Although almost everyone close to him called him that, even as a nickname, Lin Xing was now practically developing PTSD toward those two syllables. Before turning around, he quickly explained to Chi Tong, “My name isn’t Lin Xingxing, it’s Lin Xing. Just one ‘Xing’.”
When Chi Tong heard the word “Xingxing,” something clicked in his memory. Earlier, when he had come out of the elevator, someone had also called out that name. With that connection, Lin Xing’s clothes and even his profile seemed to become a bit more familiar to him.
Behind them, Luo Tengfei jogged over in quick little steps and said to Lin Xing, “You said you were going to the restroom and never came back, we thought you fell into a toilet or something. We didn’t expect to find you here. What are you doing?”
Lin Xing thought to himself: What am I doing? Becoming a righteous hero, rescuing a handsome guy from trouble, leaving a deep impression on him, and casually trying to flirt with him.
But on the surface, he still replied calmly, “Nothing much, I just wandered outside for a bit.” His tone was gentle, his posture composed, and Lin Xing felt his image was fairly presentable.
“What do you mean, ‘wandered outside for a bit’?” Luo Tengfei thought the explanation was so flimsy it wasn’t even worth arguing over. He’d been about to push back, but when he took a closer look and realized who was standing next to Lin Xing, his expression shifted from surprise to sudden delight.
“Oh, you’re Half Pool!” Luo Tengfei stared at Chi Tong in disbelief, eyes wide. “What a coincidence.”
Lin Xing tilted his head slightly, watching Chi Tong’s reaction. He was about ninety percent sure by now, but still not completely certain. After all, there were plenty of people who looked alike, and appearances in real life and on camera often differed.
However, Lin Xing’s half-formed goodwill toward the handsome stranger, and the motivation behind his actions, were both tied to his filter for “Half Pool.” So if the man in front of him denied being that person, Lin Xing might lose the desire to invite him to dinner altogether.
Chi Tong showed no intention of hiding his online identity. He nodded at Luo Tengfei and admitted plainly, “Yes.”
After saying that, however, he still looked back at Lin Xing and asked for confirmation: “In the elevator just now, you were standing next to me, right?”
Lin Xing didn’t expect his memory to be so good. In the elevator earlier, he’d done his best to minimize his presence and hadn’t even let his full face come into the other’s line of sight.
“Mm.” Lin Xing nodded lightly.
The relief he felt after hearing Chi Tong admit he was “Half Pool” was quickly replaced by a trace of nervousness. Chi Tong’s gaze seemed to carry a bit more complexity now. Even though Lin Xing knew it was unlikely the other party would suddenly connect him to his online identity, the guilt still made him want to change the subject and cut down how often the word “Xingxing” came up.
Before he could come up with anything new—
Luo Tengfei jumped in eagerly and took over the conversation. “Half Pool, I’m your fan!”
Lin Xing couldn’t get a word in, and after finishing his flattery, Luo Tengfei continued, “Um, sorry, but could I add you on WeChat?”
Chi Tong turned his gaze to him. “Add WeChat?”
He neither agreed nor refused, but in situations like this, that usually implied a lack of approval, just a polite way of not rejecting someone outright.
Luo Tengfei was a bit reluctant to give up. He really wanted to ask for advice on video editing and filming techniques, so to make his request more convincing and reduce the other party’s defensiveness, he added, “I just want to ask a few questions about making videos. I won’t bother you in chat, I’m not that kind of fan.”
Lin Xing took a silent hit from that remark and didn’t dare make a sound. That familiar feeling of social death crept back in, and he suddenly became clear-headed.
Earlier, blinded by impulse, he’d even been thinking about flirting with Half Pool under a new identity.
One wrong step led to another, if he got exposed now, wouldn’t that make him a textbook obsessive fan, basically beyond saving?
He inhaled sharply in regret and tried to slip away quietly. “You two talk. I’ll go eat some skewers first.”
But at that moment, Luo Tengfei placed both hands on his shoulders and pushed him forward. “And it’s not just me, my roommate is your fan too.”
Lin Xing stumbled half a step forward and was forced into the center of attention.
He and Chi Tong met eye to eye, one confused, the other avoiding the gaze.
The back of his head went numb, and his previously calm mindset finally began to crack apart with the sound of something collapsing.
Luo Tengfei was still worried that Chi Tong might not believe them and was about to take out his phone to prove it, but he’d left in such a hurry that his phone was still on the table in the private room. Still, proof was necessary, if he couldn’t add him as a friend, he at least had to clear himself of the suspicion of lying.
Out of the corner of his eye, Luo Tengfei noticed a phone-shaped bulge in Lin Xing’s pocket and suddenly felt enlightened.
He happily egged him on: “Bro, show him your following list on your profile.”
Lin Xing: “……”
Help!!