Chapter 10

At 6:50 that night, the sky was dusky, not quite dark. Students ran laps on the track as the day slid into evening.
Next to the track, shielded by a long stretch of green-tinted fencing, lay the basketball courts.
The guys were already deep into a heated game.
The crash of balls on rim, squeak of sneakers, shouts and laughter, a full symphony of chaos and adrenaline.
Summer had faded, autumn not yet fully arrived.
The night air was tinged with a soft, pleasant coolness, the best weather of the year.
Du Ruo jogged a lap, then gathered with her classmates beneath the towering poplar beside the field.
A few guys in basketball jerseys, all red-faced and dripping sweat, ambled over from the courts.
The group clustered to hash out parade formations for sports day.
Du Ruo suggested, with twenty-two people, she and another could hold the class sign at the front, and the remaining twenty could march in neat four-by-five rows. Simple and efficient.
But the boys started shaking their heads. “Come on, this isn’t high school. If you’re just holding the sign, you’re not really taking part in the show.”
The implication was clear: their class flower had to play a much bigger role.
Du Ruo asked, “So you already have something in mind?”
Li Wei explained their rough plan: one guy would lead holding the class sign; behind him, Du Ruo would be front and center, flanked by four "bodyguards," with the rest marching behind in a four-by-four block.
Du Ruo: “And this front-and-center thing, am I supposed to be carrying something?”
“Exactly! Ever seen that Thai movie, ‘A Little Thing Called Love’?”
“Nope.”
“Doesn’t matter. There’s this shiny wand, the kind that looks like something a kid’s fairy princess would have, but bigger.” Wan Zi’ang said, “We could make it even cooler than in the movie.”
Du Ruo’s guard went up. “Wait, you’re not expecting me to prance around in a poofy princess dress waving a magic wand, right?”
That visual, way too much.
The boys stared blankly for a second, then burst out laughing. Even the shy ones couldn’t resist grinning.
“How are you so cute?”
He Yi clarified, “Of course not. Dancing solo would be way too awkward. C’mon, we’re comms majors, gotta make it fit the theme.”
Zeng Kefan added, “You’ll use the wand to give different commands, and we’ll coordinate with choreographed moves.”
Du Ruo brightened, eyes sparkling. “That actually sounds pretty fun! Whose idea, ”
Before she could finish, a basketball rocketed in at head height, thudding against the green fencing right behind her. There was a resounding boom, and she shrieked, grabbing her head and leaping out of the way.
Her heart nearly exploded. Glaring at the bouncing ball, she saw Jing Ming, sweaty and striped in his jersey, charging over. In one slick motion, he scooped up the offending ball, spun it off the pavement, and tamed it with a few quick dribbles, completely in control.
His hair was a mess of damp spikes, sweat glinting on his forehead, every move sharp and brimming with energy.
Fates colliding, again?
Jing Ming’s cheeks flushed red, breathing hard as he glanced over. He tilted his chin toward the guys in Du Ruo’s class by way of hello. When his gaze landed on her, he lingered for a second, as if about to say something, but didn’t.
No check-in, no concern, just turned and ran off with the ball, finishing with a three-step drive that sent the ball flying through the hoop in a perfect dunk.
Smooth and showy, some girls on the sidelines screeched and cheered.
Du Ruo, whose heart had only just stopped racing: “…”
She shot Jing Ming a withering glare from the sidelines, Break a leg out there!
Li Wei called everyone together.
They lined up by height, twenty-two in all, and marched a lap around the track.
“Left, right, left! Left, right, left!”
Du Ruo marched solo at the front, no need to worry about falling out of step. As she looked around, her gaze drifted to the basketball courts.
Jing Ming’s game was all smooth passes, feints, behind-the-back moves, like poetry in motion on the court.
She could actually hear the sharp, squeaky drag of his sneakers every time he whipped around, the sound crisp, slicing through the air with unstoppable force.
He dodged the defense, lunged to the net, leaped as an opponent blocked his way. Fake-out: he feinted landing, then spun the other way. With his back to the basket, he tossed the ball behind him, nothing but net.
He landed lightly, soaking up the spotlight.
Seriously cool. Even the guys were clapping for him.
Du Ruo, for a single second, forgot herself, stunned and breathless.
Basketball really is electric!
Still, if that cocky guy ate asphalt for once, that’d be comedy gold…
Just then, she tripped over her own shoelace and faceplanted onto the track.
“…”
Tears sprang to her eyes from the sting, only to find Jing Ming at the edge of the court, pausing for a drink, smirking as he caught her wipeout.
The guys all hurried over; two grabbed her arms and hoisted her upright. “How do you even trip walking in a straight line?”
Du Ruo whimpered, “My shoelace came untied.”
A boy stepped forward to tie it for her.
“It’s okay, I can do it!” Caught off guard by the kindness, she tried to squat down and stop him despite the sharp pain in her knee. But he’d already tied it in a flash. Nearly overwhelmed, she thanked him over and over.
“Can you still walk?”
“I’ll be fine. Really.”
But the guys insisted, for the sake of her knee, that she sit out and rest.
The rest of the group continued practicing their formation.
Du Ruo sat on the sidelines, watching. Every now and then, she couldn’t help glancing back at the basketball court. She’d only looked a few times when Jing Ming and his friends finished up and dispersed.
Dusk settled in.
The towering floodlights on the side of the field suddenly flared on, an entire ring of white beams lit up together, turning night into a glowing white day.
In that dazzling wash of light, Jing Ming’s figure stood out starkly: violet-gold basketball jersey, jet-black hair spiking every which way, sharp as a blade.
Weaving through the crowd, he ducked under the hoop, grabbed his jacket, pulled out his phone, tossed his coat over his shoulder, and scrolled as he left the court.
Other courts still echoed with shouts and sneakers thumping, but his court was instantly swarmed by a new set of players.
Du Ruo tilted her head, watching him leave. Beyond two fences, figures blur together, he quickly vanished from sight.
She turned away and looked back at the floodlit field.
Night had fallen completely. The air was getting chilly, and she started to feel cold. Time to head back and change in the dorm.
She hadn’t been sitting out for long. After everyone walked a few more laps and got comfortable, the training broke up.
Du Ruo took off toward the dorm like the wind, but saw no familiar faces on the way.
Back in the dorm, it was pitch black except for Qiu Yuchen, who was watching an American drama by the glow of her desk lamp. He Huanhuan and Xia Nan had gone off to the library.
Qiu Yuchen saw her come in, paused the show, and said, “Didn’t you ask Huanhuan to take your backpack to the library for you? Weren’t you going straight there after practice?”
“Ah! Right! Oh no, totally forgot!” She spun on her heel and ran out again.
“She’s out of it tonight,” Qiu Yuchen muttered, tapping the keyboard and diving back into the drama.
Du Ruo headed for the library to study. After a bit of reading, she started sketching circuit diagrams, quickly brainstorming a few complex designs, feeling a spark of pure joy.
Still plenty of time before closing, she dove ahead in the textbook, reading material the teacher hadn’t covered yet. Around 9pm, her phone buzzed in her pocket.
That’s odd. She’d just called her mom yesterday. Didn’t see any of her classmates tonight either. Who could it be?
The screen flashed: “Jing Ming.”
Du Ruo blinked in surprise, dropping her book and pen and darting into the hallway to answer. “Hello?”
On the other end, he sounded impatient. “Where are you?”
She rolled her eyes. “In the library. What’s up?”
“Come outside,” he said.
“Huh?” She bristled a little. “What for?”
“The computer my parents bought for you got delivered to my place. Come take it off my hands.”
She was shocked, delighted, and deeply grateful, answering fast: “Thank you! Thank your parents for me, and you, too.” But even as she showed gratitude, a shy and awkward feeling crept in, so she fumbled out another, “Thank you.”
“…” Jing Ming paused a beat. Then, briskly, “Take it now.”
“Okay! I’m coming.”
“And don’t come to my dorm.” he added, commanding, “Back of the administration building.”
He hung up.
Du Ruo understood, he didn’t want anyone to see, hence the out-of-the-way spot.
He’d already gone out of his way to deliver the computer for her. She’d troubled him enough.
Worried he’d be left waiting, she jogged the whole way out to their rendezvous.
With the teaching buildings long behind her, the crowds thinned to nothing.
Only the glow of streetlamps spilled faint shadows beneath the trees.
The nights this time of year were just perfect, cool, neither hot nor cold.
But her nerves had her running too fast, so despite the night air, sweat started prickling down her back.
The administrative building stood dark and silent, doors locked tight.
Out front was a broad, empty road. Not a soul in sight.
On either side, locust trees pressed thick overhead, flowerbeds choked with shrubs, low buildings on either lawn, whatever their use, they were shuttered, dark, and silent. Classic Republic-era architecture, making the whole place feel shadowed and deep.
The streetlights glowed dimly, but tonight’s moon was bright, a milky layer, like frost washed over the world.
She perched on the edge of the steps by the road, bouncing on her toes, breathing hard to steady her heartbeat.
Then she started pacing back and forth in the chilly moonlight, waiting for him to show.
Hopeful, buzzing with anticipation, she waited. The dampness on her skin began to evaporate and a chill crept in.
Shivering, she hugged herself and crouched down.
At last, footsteps broke the hush of the night.
She straightened up at once.
Jing Ming approached, one hand in his pocket, the other carrying an oversized paper bag.
Expression unreadable, he held the bag out to her.
Du Ruo’s eyes widened. “It’s a laptop?”
It took Jing Ming a few seconds to catch her meaning. He gave a dry laugh. “Seriously? What era do you think this is? Who still lugs a desktop to the girls’ dorm?”
Du Ruo didn’t mind his teasing this time. He had a point, every girl had a pretty laptop now, nobody was buying ancient, clunky desktops anymore.
So, surprisingly patient, she played along. “So it’s only the guys’ dorms still clinging to desktops?”
“Just the ones running high-spec setups for gaming,” he said coolly.
“Thanks, really.” Du Ruo grinned at him.
It was the first time she’d ever smiled at him like that.
Under the moon’s glow, her skin looked softer, almost luminous; when she smiled, her eyes turned up into little crescents, with the faintest dimple beside her lips.
He regarded her in silence for a second, gaze drifting down from head to toe, unreadable.
She wore a simple t-shirt with a button-up thrown on top as a jacket. A cold gust swept by, and she shivered a little.
Jing Ming asked mildly, “Out of cash?”
Du Ruo blinked, not following. “Huh?”
He repeated, “No money for clothes?”
All at once, the happy, floaty feeling disappeared and any gratitude for the computer exploded into smoke. Why did he have to run his mouth like that!? Still, she couldn’t bring herself to be rude after accepting help, so she just pressed her lips tight, clutched the bag, and turned to leave.
“Wait.” His voice snapped from behind her.
Du Ruo stopped, reflexively obeying his order, but glared back in annoyance. “What now?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you freezing, dressed like that?”
She froze, unexpected warmth rising in her chest. Oh, that’s what he meant. For a moment she wanted to take back every harsh thought she’d just had, but was left tongue-tied, not sure how to answer.
He strode over, pulled out his wallet, and took out a wad of bills. “Here, take it.”
Her blood rushed to her head. She clutched the bag, shook her head firmly. “No thanks. I have enough.”
But he made no move to take the cash back. Not wanting to argue, he just bent down, stuffed the money into her bag, and walked away.
Du Ruo’s eyes stung. She yanked the money straight out of the bag.
“I really don’t need it!” she shouted, chasing after him and shoving the bills into his hand, then bolted away, not looking back.
She dashed all the way back to the dorm, body slick with sweat, thirst burning at her throat.
She slumped on the landing, staring blankly into space.
The motion-sensor lights clicked off, plunging her into darkness.
A trace of sorrow lingered, and for the first time, she didn’t know why.
If only things had gone the way she’d planned: never running into him, not even once, on campus.
At least then she could have played at keeping her dignity in front of him.
She bent her head, feeling defeated. As she wiped her clammy forehead, she spotted a hundred-yuan bill still crumpled in the bottom of the bag.