A crisp, sharp crack echoed across the volleyball court. Li Qingchi’s hand slammed hard against the side-back of the ball. The volleyball sliced through the air with a whistling sound, nearly plummeting straight down near the baseline on Wen Zhiyu’s side before bouncing away.
The ball was so fast that Wen Zhiyu hadn’t even had time to make a defensive move before it hit the ground and scored.
He stood there, watching the ball bounce into the distance, then lifted his gaze to Li Qingchi across the net.
Li Qingchi had already landed steadily, his breathing slightly quicker than before, but his expression remained unchanged. He radiated a pure, raw aggression and focus.
Yeah, that was Li Qingchi.
The same Li Qingchi who, though aloof, always exuded an unshakable sense of certainty.
Wen Zhiyu slowly curved his lips and muttered under his breath, “Seventeen-year-old Li Qingchi.”
Li Qingchi didn’t respond to the cryptic remark. He simply walked back to his position, bent his knees, and calmly fixed his gaze on Wen Zhiyu’s service area, waiting for the next ball.
“Again.”
Wen Zhiyu picked up the ball and walked back to the service line. He looked across at Li Qingchi, who was now in a defensive stance, eyes sharp and focused.
Both of them were dead serious, treating this match with full intensity.
Then he tossed the ball up, except this time, the power and angle of his serve were far more vicious than before.
Now the match truly began.
The volleyball flew back and forth between them. Wen Zhiyu’s skill wasn’t bad, in fact, it was fairly well-rounded. He had quick reflexes, was agile and fast, and his defense was tenacious. Occasionally, he’d pull off clever dinks and soft touches.
In contrast, Li Qingchi displayed a completely different style of play, one built on his absolute composure and precise calculation.
The two went back and forth, evenly matched.
Sweat gradually soaked through their backs. Wen Zhiyu’s breathing grew much heavier than when they’d started. He needed more jumps and more running just to barely keep up with Li Qingchi’s rhythm.
Li Qingchi, on the other hand, though his movements had become a bit more hurried, still maintained perfect form, his eyes just as focused.
In the end, Li Qingchi took the match with a crushing score of fifteen to seven. Wen Zhiyu wiped the sweat from his face with his hand, walked to the sideline to drink some water, and watched Li Qingchi calmly dab the sweat from his forehead. He couldn’t help but speak up: “Li Qingchi, you play volleyball just like you are as a person, efficiency above all. No extra emotion beyond focus and the will to win. Winning so cleanly, you really don’t give any face, huh.”
Li Qingchi paused his movements and looked at him. “What extra emotion does a match need? Winning is enough.” He paused, then said, “Three questions.”
Wen Zhiyu smiled, though not surprised, as if he’d known Li Qingchi would be this direct all along. “Fine, a bet’s a bet. Ask away.” Honestly, he was a bit curious about what Li Qingchi would ask. Besides the question of how he’d gotten the documents, what else about him was worth digging into?
Li Qingchi’s gaze suddenly sharpened, as if trying to see through Wen Zhiyu’s easygoing facade. “Back in high school, besides the volleyball matches, where else did you see me? Specifically where, and doing what? And have I ever seen you?” He added, “Directly, face to face, actual contact.”
Wen Zhiyu tilted his head back and gulped down some water, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
Li Qingchi’s eyes lingered on his face. His eyes were red, his face flushed, like an exhausted fox.
He set down his water bottle and met Li Qingchi’s gaze, as if recalling. “Plenty of times. Want me to list them all?”
“Give me the most common ones.”
“The library,” Wen Zhiyu said. “I saw you a lot. You always sat in the corner by the window, basically from 3:30 to 5:00 in the afternoon, like clockwork. You were always reading… well, medical textbooks I couldn’t understand.” He paused, then added, “And once, you stayed in the biology lab until very late, alone at the microscope, so focused you didn’t even hear the thunder outside.”
Li Qingchi’s heart beat a little faster than before. He was silent for a few seconds but didn’t press for details. “Continue.”
Continue, continue. Like interrogating a prisoner.
Still, Wen Zhiyu didn’t take issue with being treated like a suspect. He moved on to answer the next question.
He said frankly, “We did have direct contact. But it was just a one-time encounter. Though, judging by your reaction, you’ve probably forgotten some random passerby like me completely.”
Direct contact.
Impossible. He had no memory of this person at all.
Li Qingchi had undergone specialized training since childhood, and his memory was far better than most alphas his age. Anyone he’d ever had contact with, he was sure to remember. Even if the contact was shallow, he’d at least have some vague impression, he wouldn’t fail to recognize them upon meeting again.
But the earnest expression on this beta’s face didn’t seem like he was just making things up.
Moreover, why was this beta so fixated on him? Watching him play matches, observing him read, doing experiments, this level of attention was completely unlike someone trying to find leverage against him.
A strange, almost absurd thought surfaced in Li Qingchi’s mind. But he quickly suppressed it.
“So, did you get the answers you wanted from those questions?” Wen Zhiyu asked.
Li Qingchi: “Those answers don’t really matter anyway. Even if I knew, would it change the fact that you’re coercing me?”
As if he found the remark amusing, Wen Zhiyu curled his lips. “No.”
He looked even more like a fox now. It matched the impression Li Qingchi had of foxes from childhood, beautiful, but wicked and cunning.
“That counted as two questions. You have one more chance, anything else you want to ask?” Instead of dodging the questions, Wen Zhiyu pressed further, as if he were hoping the other would ask him something.
“I’ll save it for later.” Li Qingchi chose a different approach. Consider it banking the chance.
“Fine.” Wen Zhiyu didn’t care either way. Whenever he asked, it didn’t matter, it was his promise after all.
Li Qingchi continued wiping his sweat and tidying up.
Wen Zhiyu, meanwhile, sauntered to the center of the court and started bumping the volleyball.
The ball went up and down, up and down, up and down.
Making a rhythmic thumping sound.
At first, his form was proper, but as he went on, it seemed he got playful, and like a kid, he started bumping the ball high into the air.
Tossed high, falling slowly, tossed high, falling slowly.
Li Qingchi’s gaze drifted back to Wen Zhiyu’s face, watching for a long time without the other noticing.
“Li Qingchi, I’ll count those two questions as one, and I’ll trade it for one of mine.” Wen Zhiyu asked while keeping the ball in play.
“Fine, go ahead.” Li Qingchi answered without hesitation.
“When we met at the hospital, how did you get that wound on your head? Who did it?” Wen Zhiyu suddenly brought up the small cut from their first meeting.
Li Qingchi raised an eyebrow as if he’d heard something amusing, his expression completely different from before. Instead of giving a direct answer, he countered: “What do you think happened to the wound on my head? Who did it?”
Wen Zhiyu was caught off guard by the question, feeling something off in his tone: “You have so much work every day, and you meet tons of people, how would I know who did it or how?” Then he added, “Anyway, it wasn’t me.”
“Mm.” Li Qingchi echoed, “Anyway, it wasn’t you.”
His voice was low, and the thumping of the volleyball drowned out most of it, so Wen Zhiyu didn’t quite catch it. He glanced over: “What did you say?”
Before he could even mind the ball he’d sent soaring, he looked up just as it came crashing down with a bang. He stumbled back two steps, and not only failed to catch it, but collided with another ball flying in from the side.
Two figures at the entrance of the court froze. One of them spoke up: “Whoa, catching it with his head.” The voice was young, sounding like a kid of thirteen or fourteen.
Li Qingchi didn’t look at the two voices. His gaze landed on the person who’d fallen flat to the ground after being hit in the head. The ball had come with considerable force, and seeing Wen Zhiyu collapse straight onto the floor, his doctor’s instinct screamed at him to rush over.
But when he saw Wen Zhiyu’s fluttering eyelashes and tightly pressed lips, a smile crept onto his face unbidden, and he simply watched him.
After a long pause, one of the kids spoke up: “He doesn’t look right.” Referring to Wen Zhiyu. Then he added, “Oh no. You’re done for.”
The other kid immediately realized it too and froze: “Did he get knocked out by the ball?” He questioned his existence, “No way, I… my arm strength is that strong now?”
Li Qingchi’s gaze shifted to the two kids, and he gave them some reassurance: “He’s fine.” Then, in a tone like a parent scolding a child, he added, “But from now on, don’t serve the ball from outside the court when you’re playing.”
He then stood up, walked to Wen Zhiyu’s side, bent down to pick up the volleyball, and tossed it to the kid. After that, he looked down at Wen Zhiyu again.
One of the kids caught the ball and looked back at Wen Zhiyu: “Is he really okay?” He didn’t look like he was fine.
Wen Zhiyu didn’t move, just lay there on the ground, his eyelashes fluttering like a butterfly’s wings. Li Qingchi let out a soft laugh: “He’s really fine. He’s got enough energy to play two more rounds with you.”
The moment he said that, Wen Zhiyu’s brows furrowed, clearly.
“Then what’s wrong with him? Should we do CPR or mouth-to-mouth or something?” The kid hesitated.
“No need. He just got tired from playing and is lying down for a bit.” His voice still carried a hint of amusement.
The corner of the lying man’s mouth twitched slightly.
Li Qingchi watched quietly for a while, taking in every little movement. Then he crouched down, slipped one arm around Wen Zhiyu’s back and the other under his legs, and lifted him up with effortless ease.
The moment he touched Wen Zhiyu, the other man’s body stiffened noticeably, but quickly returned to normal. Just as fast as he switched his expressions.
Then Li Qingchi picked up the things by the court and headed toward the locker room. Seeing this, the two kids stopped dwelling on whether this guy needed to go to the hospital and walked onto the court to start warming up.
It wasn’t until the thumping sounds of volleyball echoed from inside the court that Li Qingchi lowered his gaze to the person in his arms, whose expression was unnatural but who still thought he was hiding it well: “We’re out now. Still going to keep pretending?”
Wen Zhiyu’s tone was calm: “I’m dead.”
“How did you die? You look perfectly fine to me.” Li Qingchi asked knowingly.
Wen Zhiyu let out a sigh: “Death of the spirit. Far more terrifying than death of the soul.”
“So lying flat on the ground playing dead is your way of escaping?” Li Qingchi commented. “That method doesn’t seem all that great either.”
“Better than getting my head knocked sideways by a ball, freezing for two seconds, and then acting like nothing happened.” Wen Zhiyu imagined the scene in his mind. “Too awkward.”
“Since you’re awake, get down and walk on your own.” Wen Zhiyu wasn’t heavy, and carrying him wasn’t tiring, but Li Qingchi still felt repulsed by this beta who had coerced him.
“Dr. Li, I twisted my ankle. Can’t walk.” Wen Zhiyu opened his eyes and met the gaze of the man carrying him. His tone shifted back to how he sounded on the phone, the end of his words drawn out long, sounding lazy, almost like he was being coy.
But these were just his tactics for being stubborn.
Then he spoke again: “Besides, you’ve already carried me this far. Might as well see it through to the end. Finish what you started.”
Li Qingchi was reminded of his childhood, people always said foxes were beautiful but wicked and cunning. Back then, he didn’t have much understanding of foxes as animals. Now, looking at this, it really was just like that.
“Then I’ll go buy you a cane later, so you can hobble home with it?”
“Sure, Dr. Li is so thoughtful.”
This beta was very good at being stubborn. He clearly hadn’t twisted his ankle just now, but arguing with him about it now was pointless, after all, if he didn’t want to do something, no amount of talking would change his mind.
Li Qingchi accepted it and carried him toward the locker room. The locker room was empty now. There was a very soft sofa, so Li Qingchi set Wen Zhiyu down on it. The pile of things in his hands was placed on it as well.
“Dr. Li, what are you planning to do later?” Wen Zhiyu spoke up. “Go to the hospital for work, or to the lab?”
Before Li Qingchi could answer, the phone on the sofa rang. Li Qingchi glanced at it and reminded him: “The police station is calling you.”
The ringtone sounded for a few seconds before he answered.
It hung up in less than a minute.
Wen Zhiyu waved his phone: “Dr. Li, I still have things to do. I’ll be going now.”