He Got Serious
After leaving Yu Kexia and the others, Shan Jiqiu headed to the bus stop.
Dark clouds pressed low over the sky. Though it was barely past five, the world was already frighteningly dim. Pedestrians hurried along, vendors packed up their stalls, and everyone was eager to get home before the rain turned them into drowned rats.
At the stop, there was hardly anyone—just Shan Jiqiu and a little boy waiting for the bus. Bored, she pulled out her phone to play a game. Who could have guessed that in the blink of an eye, both her phone and the boy beside her were gone? She froze for two seconds before realizing—her phone had been snatched.
“Hey!” Shan Jiqiu shouted, chasing after the boy.
The boy turned back with a taunting grin: “Catch me, and I’ll give it back.”
Shan Jiqiu was stunned. This brat was bold! Her competitive streak flared instantly. “Fine. Let’s see if I can’t catch you.”
So, though she usually struggled to run even four hundred meters, Shan Jiqiu pushed herself, refusing to give up. At last, she cornered the boy in a narrow alley.
“Now, what was it you said?” Shan Jiqiu panted, hands on her hips. “Listen, kid—robbery depends on your target. You’ve got two choices: return my phone, apologize sincerely, and promise never to do bad things again. Or, you come with me to the police station.”
But instead of fear, the boy flashed a sly smile and glanced behind him.
Shan Jiqiu followed his gaze. Two men stepped out of a nearby billiard hall, cigarettes dangling from their mouths. One of them she recognized. Before she could turn away, three more familiar faces blocked her only exit.
Well, well—mantis stalks the cicada, only for the oriole to swoop in.
She watched Yan Xu pull a pink banknote from his pocket, hand it to the boy, and casually take her phone. “Alright, you can go now.”
The boy beamed, clutching the money, and strutted past Shan Jiqiu with the smug smile of a victor.
Shan Jiqiu: “…”
Smile, my foot. Kids these days—selling out for cash without a shred of decency.
Just then, her phone rang in Yan Xu’s hand, its ringtone echoing through the alley. He answered as he walked toward her, saying into the receiver: “She’s with me.”
She guessed immediately—it must be Lu Yun.
Yan Xu added, “Relax. I just want a nice chat with her. If it goes well, I’ll have to call you ‘brother.’”
She was certain now—it was Lu Yun. Whatever Lu Yun said next made Yan Xu’s smile vanish. His face hardened, then curved into a mocking grin.
“Is that so?” He paused, then sneered, “I just wanted to see what it means to die beneath a peony blossom—better to be a ghost with style.”
With that, he hung up and switched off the phone.
“Hello, little sister Shan,” Yan Xu drawled, standing before her with his F3 crew at his back.
Shan Jiqiu gave a smile that never reached her eyes, tilting her chin at him. “School tyrant, was it really necessary to set such a grand trap just for me?”
Yan Xu nodded without hesitation. “If you like, I’ve got plenty more tricks for you to choose from.”
Shan Jiqiu regarded him coolly, unhurried. In situations like this, the truth was already plain enough. “You were the ones who reported Lu Yun to the principal, weren’t you?” she asked.
“Lu Yun, the campus heartthrob—he plays the good student too damn well.” Yan Xu chuckled. “Catching him breaking the rules for once, how could I resist kicking him while he’s down?”
It’s “kick someone when they’re down,” not “drop rocks into a well.” Illiterate. Still, at least he owned up to it.
“So you calculated that Lu Yun wouldn’t be with me today, and staged all this,” Shan Jiqiu said—not a question, but a statement.
Yan Xu’s gaze roamed over her face. Skin pale as snow, long lashes fluttering, eyes clear and captivating. A straight nose, lips parted and glistening with moisture.
That cold, exquisite face—he had been captivated by it from the very first day he entered the school. Ever since, every midnight dream was tangled with her, vines wrapping endlessly, the girl at the heart of all his confusion. She was the first to stir his fantasies, the one he couldn’t do without, the one who made him long to turn those intoxicating dreams into reality. Thinking of this, he stared openly at Shan Jiqiu, desire blazing in his eyes. Then he lunged—only to grasp at air.
Quick as lightning, Shan Jiqiu had already anticipated his move and sidestepped. He ended up clutching one of his own F1 lackeys instead.
“Yan Xu.” Shan Jiqiu’s patience was thin. “I know what you’re after. Rest assured—I won’t agree to it.”
Yan Xu sneered. “Don’t think you can walk all over me just because I like you. Either you agree to be my girlfriend and we take it slow, or you’re not leaving today. Think carefully.”
But Shan Jiqiu showed no fear. Her clear eyes brimmed with defiance—*I’m not scared of you at all.* “So you’re dead set on not letting me go?” she asked.
Yan Xu: “Say yes, let your boyfriend give you a kiss, and I’ll personally escort you home.”
Shan Jiqiu: “No room for negotiation?”
Yan Xu: “There is. You can also step over our bodies to get out.”
Shan Jiqiu sighed, dropped her schoolbag onto the ground, and loosened her ponytail into two halves. “Fine,” she said lightly. “My hands are a bit rusty. Line up—one at a time.”
The boys exchanged bewildered looks. What did she mean, *one at a time*?
One of them caught on, pointing at her with a laugh. “So Autumn God wants to fight us? Brother Xu, we can’t bully our future sister-in-law, right—ah!” His cry cut off mid-word. Shan Jiqiu had seized his index finger and twisted it upward with ease. Ten fingers linked to the heart—the pain contorted his face.
“You bitch—” Another rushed forward to grab her hand. She slipped aside, pressed harder, and kicked him square in the stomach. She released her grip, and the two collapsed—one clutching his belly, the other his mangled finger.
The speed of her moves left them dumbstruck. *Stunned into silence*—that idiom had never been so vividly embodied. What was this girl on—some kind of super-strength pill? How could she be this fierce?
Shan Jiqiu flexed her wrist, feigning innocence. “Oops. Guess I really am rusty.”
Yan Xu finally snapped out of it, but instead of anger, he looked oddly exhilarated. “I thought you were some fairy. Turns out you’re fiery as hell. I like you even more.”
Shan Jiqiu blinked, thrown off. Wasn’t he supposed to back down after a scare? Why was he getting more excited? Was this masochism?
She gave a helpless laugh. “Still want more?”
“Come.” Yan Xu beckoned to Shan Jiqiu.
He struck first. Shan Jiqiu leaned back, twisted sideways, and lashed out with a counter kick—but he spun and blocked it. In an instant, Yan Xu slipped behind her, arm snaking around to lock her throat, his grip tightening at her neck.
From that very first exchange, Shan Jiqiu knew she was up against a real opponent. Now, with her throat caught, unwelcome images flashed through her mind, leaving her unsettled. In the next moment, her strength was stripped away.
Yan Xu’s breath brushed her ear as he whispered, almost lazily: “Your brother here’s a taekwondo black belt. You’re too green to fight me.”
Suddenly, something slammed into him—a flying object. Instinctively, he let go.
A schoolbag lay between them.
Then came a boy’s cold voice, carried on the wind from the mouth of the alley: “I believe I said—if you’re not afraid of dying, go ahead and touch her.”
All eyes turned toward the sound. Step by step, the boy advanced. Gone was his usual careless air. His face was carved in ice, and the peach-blossom eyes that always held a smile now gleamed with a blade’s deadly edge.
Yan Xu laughed harshly. “Lu Yun, who the hell are you trying to scare? With that scrawny frame, it’s anyone’s guess who’ll end up dead.”
Lu Yun lifted his gaze to Shan Jiqiu. “Wait outside for me.”
She caught her breath, nodded, and walked toward him. As she passed, she gripped his arm and murmured: “Yan Xu’s a taekwondo black belt. Be careful.”
Lu Yun gave a low hum, pulled her behind him, and stepped forward to face Yan Xu and his crew. His lips curled with insolent swagger. “Grandpa’s in a hurry. All of you, come at once.”
Shan Jiqiu didn’t leave. She lingered at the edge of the “battlefield,” ready to jump in if needed. She watched as Lu Yun effortlessly floored the F3, only to meet Yan Xu’s fist head-on. Her heart clenched.
Lu Yun took the blow, staggered, but did not fall. He smirked, thumb brushing from the corner of his mouth down across his lip. It looked like a smile, but the wild, dangerous aura spilling from him could not be contained.
At that moment, what was Lu Yun like?
A flower blooming at the edge of the abyss.
A desert fire that could consume the land.
An avalanche roaring through frozen peaks.
A venomous beast awakening from slumber.
She knew—he was serious now.
In less than a round, Lu Yun’s fist sent his opponent crashing down. The rest lay groaning on the ground—clutching stomachs, heads, legs—utterly defeated.
Lu Yun bent down to pick up the two schoolbags, dusted them off, and then retrieved Shan Jiqiu’s phone.
Just then, two more men stepped out of the billiard hall. One glance at the battlefield on the ground, another at Lu Yun’s bruised face, and they instantly understood the situation.
The tattooed one shouted back into the hall: “Brothers, grab the weapons!”
Lu Yun licked the corner of his mouth with his tongue, hissing softly. He quickly slung the bags over his shoulder, turned to Shan Jiqiu, and tapped her lightly on the head.
“Still waiting for the second half?” He seized her wrist. “Run.”
“Don’t run!”
The sky was blue, waiting for misty rain; black, waiting for the storm.
Before the downpour arrived, the boy and girl sprinted through the whistling wind, racing down the asphalt road as darkness fell.
The girl looked down at her wrist, gripped tightly in his burning palm. She lifted her gaze to the boy’s unyielding back, her heartbeat quickening with each step, until it reached its peak without her even realizing. Everything around her blurred. Her clear eyes, which once saw through the smoke and fire of the mundane world, now saw only this boy before her.