With a “bang,” brilliant fireworks exploded in Qin Yichi’s heart, stopping it for a split second as he stood frozen in place.
It was as if the entire world had solidified.
Every move Qiao Zhen made was like a massive boulder crashing into his heart, splashing water everywhere that refused to settle for a long time.
His heart pounded wildly, nearly bursting out of his chest.
Qin Yichi’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and a flush crept up his earlobes, burning hot.
He let out a low cough, nodded, then reached up to smooth his tousled hair, feigning nonchalance as he glanced around.
A hundred fake gestures per second, all to mask the chaos within.
That silent “go get ’em” instantly recharged Qin Yichi’s batteries.
Beside him, Niu Yifeng stared in utter shock.
What the hell?
The guy who had just been listless, dejected, and miserable was now wearing a faint smile, looking like he was in the best mood ever?
Crazy. College had made everyone crazy…
As the whistle blew, the game began, and everyone looked up, focusing intently.
Qin Yichi moved with astonishing speed like a cheetah, locking onto his prey, snatching the ball in a flash of agile motion.
The young man was tall and handsome, his figure swift and nimble, like a hawk that had been biding its time and strategizing—every move exuding a wild, roguish charm.
The basketball seemed glued to his hand, obediently tracing a graceful arc through the air and sinking cleanly through the hoop.
A three-pointer on the very first shot!
It felt like every inch of air around them was burning with the flame called “youth,” instantly igniting the atmosphere.
Qiao Zhen watched the ball with complete focus, but the thing was like a little imp, passing to the other boys, flying back and forth, until it obediently returned to Qin Yichi’s hands.
He released the ball with decisive precision, as if it had been carefully calculated.
The basketball once again traced a meteor-like arc and swished through the net!
The scene was intensely fierce, with both sides nearly neck and neck. After each score, the crowd around clapped and cheered.
It was dizzying to watch—no one even knew who they were cheering for. Whoever scored, they’d let out a couple of whoops, all about “keeping things fair.”
Compared to Qin Yichi’s blazing passion and fierce ambition, Ji Xian seemed strikingly out of place.
His expression was calm, with no emotional fluctuation, as if he couldn’t care less about winning or losing—more like he cared about something else entirely.
Ji Xian casually sank a shot, his form flawless, his figure lean and upright, his eyes cool and detached, carrying an air of refined elegance.
“Ahhh, it went in!” The surrounding students began to cheer, and some girls’ cheeks flushed pink.
They’d seen Ji Xian play piano and give speeches on stage, but never play basketball! How was he so aloof and noble even when exercising?!
Ji Xian swept his expressionless gaze over these fluttering girls, then his eyes slowly came to rest on Qiao Zhen.
The girl wore a cream-colored long dress, chin resting on her hand, soft and pure, a smile curling at her lips as she watched with focused seriousness.
Her gaze wasn’t on him.
Ji Xian frowned slightly, his eyes darkening, a thin layer of frost slowly forming over his calm, indifferent face.
Beside him, Yuwen Jian suddenly let out a furious roar: “Damn it!”
Unbelievable. Absolutely freaking unbelievable! From the start of the game until now, he’d been targeted by Qin Yichi the whole time and hadn’t even touched the ball!!
Yuwen Jian’s gaze turned sinister and menacing as he shot a look at the boy beside him.
The other man narrowed his eyes and immediately coordinated with Yuwen Jian, covertly surrounding Qin Yichi. They deliberately pressed against him, using their hands, feet, and shoulders to restrict his offense and maliciously block him—yet they kept it just within bounds, teetering dangerously on the line of a foul.
Anyway, this was their usual bag of dirty tricks.
Not far away, Niu Yifeng’s eyes flew wide open in sheer disbelief.
Damn, what kind of people were these, pulling this kind of shady stuff?
Playing ball this dirty—did these bastards have any sportsmanship at all?!
He was so furious he could spit blood, and roared out: “Chi-ge, watch out!”
Qin Yichi dribbled between his legs, letting out a disdainful snort. “Don’t worry.”
He’d already noticed the sneaky moves of the two beside him and shook them off without breaking stride.
Qin Yichi’s eyes narrowed, his sharp features cutting through the air as he moved like lightning with the ball, radiating a wild, unruly aura.
The golden afternoon sunlight draped over him completely, blazing with brilliance, impossible to look away from.
Every eye in the arena was fixed on that ball.
But the ball flew up to the rim and, as if throwing a tantrum, spun around the edge two or three times, stubbornly refusing to drop!
Qiao Zhen’s heart inexplicably pounded, her whole body tensing as she silently prayed for it to go in.
The next second, the ball dropped cleanly through the hoop.
The outcome was decided, and the crowd erupted in a frenzy of cheers!
The School of Information had won by two points!
The boulder in Qiao Zhen’s heart finally settled, and she let out a long breath, her eyes sparkling.
But maybe it was just her imagination—she kept feeling like two gazes were fixed on her, like X-rays.
One gaze was scorching hot; the other was icy cold.
Yet when she looked up, there was nothing there, and no one was watching her at all…
Having lost the match, Yuwen Jian and his crew hung their heads, their faces grim to the extreme, almost green with fury.
Sheng Lulu was thoroughly enjoying the show. She’d long disliked this bunch, and now she felt utterly vindicated.
“Oh, right, Zhenzhen,” Sheng Lulu suddenly shoved an unopened bottle of water into Qiao Zhen’s arms. “Here.”
Qiao Zhen looked up, dazed. “?”
A tiny head full of big questions.
Sheng Lulu grinned slyly. “Go give your little childhood sweetheart some water, quick—don’t give it to that ice-cold guy!”
With that, she clutched her stomach and hurried off to the restroom: “Damn… Zhenzhen, it’s coming, I’m about to drop a big one this time, don’t wait for me!”
“Mm-hm.” Qiao Zhen nodded, looking adorably clueless as she stared down at the water bottle in her hands, then lifted her gaze to the boy not far away who was patting the ball, quietly making a decision…
After winning the match, the guys gathered together, and a couple of sophomore seniors clapped Qin Yichi on the shoulder: “Bro, that was insane—you were born for our sports department!”
After a brief exchange, Qin Yichi happened to feel a bit thirsty. His gaze kept drifting, almost involuntarily, toward a certain little bunny.
The little bunny was holding a bottle of water, inching her way toward him bit by bit.
Damn cute…
Qin Yichi’s earlobes slowly flushed red, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, unable to name the feeling stirring in his chest.
“Chi-ge!” Niu Yifeng, drenched in sweat and exhausted, said boisterously, “I’ll go grab your water bottle for you! I’m parched as hell!”
Qin Yichi refused flat out: “No need, I’m not drinking.”
The other man blinked, then scratched his head and walked off, muttering, “Weird…”
The girls nearby, seeing Qin Yichi without water, all smoothed their bangs and stepped forward to politely offer him bottles, flashing sweet smiles:
“Hey, you’re really good at basketball—want some water?”
“Can we add each other on socials? I’m from the School of Informatics too~”
Qin Yichi refused without hesitation: “Sorry, no thanks.”
He didn’t even bother to look at their faces properly. He walked toward Qiao Zhen’s direction, feigning nonchalance as he slowly passed by her.
The next second, a clear, sweet voice rang out as expected: “Qin Yichi!”
Qiao Zhen called him to a stop and shoved a bottle of Nongfu Spring into his arms, like an adorable little squirrel offering up its prized pinecone:
“Here, have some water!”
Her voice was soft, like a gentle, refreshing spring breeze, or a pure white feather tickling his ear.
Qin Yichi’s heart raced wildly, but on the surface he remained calm and composed. His throat was dry, and his voice came out low and husky: “Mm, thanks.”
Now he, too, had water from her.
Unlike before, when he could only stand in place, watching from afar as Qiao Zhen ran over to deliver water to Ji Xian and the others.
With that, the corners of Qin Yichi’s lips curved up slightly. He twisted off the cap, tilted his head back, and drank, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down continuously.
The mineral water flowed down his parched throat, like pouring a cup of water into a dry desert—a seed gradually sprouting, blooming into a small white flower.
A moment later, a bright flame slowly flickered to life in Qin Yichi’s eyes.
Her water was a little sweet.