Jiang Qihuai had no idea where she got the notion that boys were always better than girls.
Thinking of that blockhead Li Shuangjiang, he actually seemed worse than a girl.
Students were leaving the classroom one after another to go to the cafeteria, the corridor outside bustling and noisy, fragments of laughter drifting in.
Outside the door, Li Sijia was still waiting. Tao Zhi, still holding onto Jiang Qihuai’s sleeve, looked a little at a loss.
Perhaps, in Jiang Qihuai’s eyes right now, her behavior must appear completely unreasonable, baffling. She had no right to interfere in his matters or make decisions for him; in truth, they weren’t even that close.
They had only known each other for barely a month. Not very familiar with each other, and even a little strained at first — just ordinary deskmates, front and back.
She had… overstepped.
Realizing this, Tao Zhi let go of the sleeve of his school uniform as if shocked by electricity. Her fingers curled slightly as she slowly drew her hand back.
Lowering her head, she took a moment to sort out and calm the sudden mess of emotions, exhaling softly before raising her head again.
Jiang Qihuai hadn’t left yet. His eyelids drooped slightly as he stood beside her, watching her.
Tao Zhi waved her hand at him and quickly turned away. “Your Highness, go on now, don’t let Consort Li wait too long.”
As she spoke, she bent over her desk, pulling out her phone. The cheerful sound of the mahjong app opening shattered the hard-to-read atmosphere hanging between them.
Absentmindedly, Tao Zhi started a Sichuan-style “exchange three tiles” match, listening to the footsteps behind her.
Soon, a faint girl’s voice drifted in from the hallway, swallowed up by footsteps and chatter — indistinct.
Tao Zhi couldn’t help leaning slightly toward the door, but still couldn’t make it out.
“Your ears are about to stretch out the door,” Fu Xiling suddenly said.
Tao Zhi sat up straight at once and, pretending nothing had happened, continued playing her game.
Fu Xiling lifted out her insulated lunchbox and unscrewed the lid. Ever since that time Tao Zhi had helped her in the girls’ bathroom and her mother found out, her mother had been packing extra food every day and asking her to invite Tao Zhi to eat together.
She scooped out a layer of rice for Tao Zhi and asked curiously, “Why are you so concerned about Study God and Li Sijia dating? Is it because you don’t want him to fall behind in his studies?”
Fu Xiling was always good at finding people a way to step down.
Tao Zhi accepted the rice and quickly nodded along, blurting out, “He’s the top of our grade, after all. Romance affects studying.”
She twisted open the container of rice and puffed out her cheeks. “But, I was being meddlesome.”
Fu Xiling pulled out the box of chicken wings. “Friends advising friends doesn’t count as meddling.”
Tao Zhi bit her chopsticks. “We’re just ordinary front-and-back deskmates.”
“But I think Study God treats you as a friend,” Fu Xiling said seriously, lowering her head as she unpacked the containers one by one. “He only seems a little easier to talk to when you’re around. Li Shuangjiang even told me that if it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t dare talk to Study God at all.”
Fu Xiling looked up. “I think it’s because he sees you as a friend that he’s started blending into the class.”
Tao Zhi bit on her chopsticks absently, saying nothing.
She didn’t know why, but Fu Xiling’s conclusion — that Jiang Qihuai saw her as a friend — didn’t make her feel happy at all.
But at least, it was still a little better than being just barely-acquainted deskmates.
Tao Zhi finished her lunch without much appetite. After tidying up her desk, she lay down and took a nap.
She slept lightly, half-aware, hearing people come and go outside. She heard the chair behind her being dragged back, then pushed in again, and finally, there was silence.
Tao Zhi didn’t turn around, nor did she ask whether Jiang Qihuai and his Consort Li had finished talking, or what the result was.
Even if Jiang Qihuai really agreed, a love story between two top students scoring over seven hundred points—a talented man and beautiful woman, a golden couple making progress together—would be a tale worth admiring.
It was just that from now on, she’d have to keep her distance. He would be someone’s boyfriend, after all. There should always be a little distance between him and other girls. She couldn’t keep hanging around him.
Thinking of that, Tao Zhi felt inexplicably stifled again.
The midday sunlight spilled in, filtering through her thin eyelids; with her eyes closed, the world turned a faint red. Tao Zhi took off her school uniform jacket, pulled it up to cover her head, and went back to sleep.
The entire afternoon, Tao Zhi lacked energy.
During math class, Wang Er even called on her specially to tease her a couple of times, expressing great dissatisfaction and jealousy that while she could score over a hundred in Chinese and English, she only managed forty in math.
After the monthly exams, the seven-day National Day holiday was just around the corner. Everyone relaxed, and the teachers’ efficiency in explaining the exam papers dropped. Seeing this, Wang Zhezi simply canceled the last class and replaced it with a physical activity period.
The boys went out to play basketball, while the girls who didn’t want to move stayed in the classroom to chat. Tao Zhi sat up, stretched lazily, put on her jacket, and left the classroom to buy a bottle of yogurt from the campus shop.
She walked out of the teaching building and strolled along the shaded path until she reached the end.
The small shop was lively and noisy. Several boys leaned against the glass counter, holding basketballs, chatting and drinking water.
Tao Zhi skirted around them, took a bottle of aloe yogurt from the fridge, paid for it, twisted the cap open, and strolled out at an unhurried pace.
Li Shuangjiang and the others were playing basketball on the outdoor court nearby. The ball bounced across half the court and hit the ground hard. Ji Fan caught it with one hand, dribbled past an opponent smoothly, and sent it flying into the hoop.
Jiang Qihuai was playing with them too.
Tao Zhi had never seen Jiang Qihuai play basketball before. He always looked like someone who had no entertainment outside of studying. They seemed to have divided into teams for a small match—Jiang Qihuai wasn’t on their team.
Glancing to the side, Tao Zhi saw a group of girls squatting and sitting by the flowerbeds around the court. Li Sijia was among them, holding a bottle of mineral water.
So it had begun already—he plays, she cheers, and brings water for her boyfriend.
Tao Zhi rolled her eyes dramatically at the sky. Just as she was feeling annoyed, she heard Ji Fan call out, “Zhizhi!”
Tao Zhi turned her head—and a bright orange basketball was flying straight toward her face, swelling larger and larger in her vision, about to smash into her nose.
Jiang Qihuai lunged toward her, his long arm reaching out fast—but still not fast enough.
Tao Zhi instinctively tilted her head aside, dodging the ball that would have broken her nose the next second. Her free hand reached back; her pale palm hooked the ball and sharply pulled it forward, dispersing its momentum. The ball bounced at her feet, then rebounded high into the air.
Ji Fan stopped in his tracks, cursing under his breath. Jiang Qihuai stood in front of her, breathing lightly, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, his chest rising and falling with quiet breaths.
Tao Zhi gave him a light glance, set her half-finished yogurt on the flowerbed, and, with practiced movements, began to dribble the ball.
She brushed past Jiang Qihuai, dribbling all the way to the court. Stopping at the three-point line, she spun the ball twice between her hands, exhaled softly, leapt high, and threw it.
The basketball arced gracefully through the air in a smooth parabola and dropped neatly into the hoop.
A crisp clang echoed, breaking the stillness of the court.
Li Shuangjiang and Zhao Mingqi were still frozen, faces full of shock.
Ji Fan stood to the side, chuckling as he wiped his sweat with the hem of his shirt. “What’s this? Hands itching already?”
Others might not know, but he knew well that Tao Zhi played basketball quite well.
She had been athletic since she was little. Back then, there weren’t many girls her age willing to play with her, so she ended up playing ball with Ji Fan and Song Jiang.
Volleyball, basketball, badminton—Ji Fan had never beaten Tao Zhi once. Later, when they grew older and the boys began to gain the advantage of physique, she finally couldn’t win one-on-one anymore. But once they moved on to billiards in junior high, Tao Zhi started pressing him against the pool table again.
As a kid, Ji Fan used to feel unconvinced, like there was nothing this person couldn’t do, nothing he could beat her at.
But slowly, that feeling turned into pride.
At the side, Li Shuangjiang finally came back to his senses. Yelling, he spread his arms like an eagle and rushed forward. “My boss is awesome! Boss, how about a match?”
Tao Zhi glanced toward the court. Jiang Qihuai had already returned, holding the half-finished bottle of yogurt she’d left by the flowerbed. He bent down and set it carefully on the tiled edge near her feet.
Tao Zhi didn’t look at him. She asked Li Shuangjiang, “You’re short on people?”
“Not really,” Li Shuangjiang said with a grin. “But we can bench Ji Fan. You can take his spot.”
“Damn it!” Ji Fan stared at him, shocked. “What kind of person are you—throwing out the old for the new? Without me, how are you gonna beat Jiang Qihuai? That guy’s made half of the nine shots already!”
Ji Fan pointed at Tao Zhi. “Besides, she plays point guard, same as me! Our positions don’t even clash. Go bench our other PG.”
Jiang Zhengxun, who had been dragged in to make up numbers and was now standing nearby, nodded wildly. “I agree. Let the class monitor take my place. I want to go back and nap.”
“In your dreams.” Li Shuangjiang jabbed a finger at him. “You better have some self-awareness as a benchwarmer-slash-water-boy. Stay here and guard the yogurt for the boss.”
Jiang Zhengxun weighed his options between running all over the court and standing still guarding the yogurt—and decisively chose the latter.
Li Shuangjiang called for a substitution. As Ji Fan tugged Tao Zhi over, she caught a glimpse of Jiang Qihuai from the corner of her eye.
Even though it was just a casual PE-period match, they still managed to make it look serious—someone had even found a whistle from who-knows-where.
Since there was no time limit, it was score-based: first team to ten points would win.
The game started. Ji Fan jumped for the ball. His leap was powerful; he hooked his arm back and tipped the ball, dribbling as he charged toward the opposing basket.
Jiang Qihuai and Zhao Mingqi were on the same team. Zhao Mingqi, the PE committee member, was an all-round athlete with quick reflexes. The two of them closed in rapidly, one in front and one behind, completely boxing Ji Fan in without giving him the slightest gap.
Ji Fan was an aggressive type who never thought much about defense. Tilting his head, he raised his arm high and suddenly slammed the ball hard against the backboard.
The basketball hit with a loud thud, bouncing back forcefully. Jiang Qihuai lifted his head, stretched out his arm, fingertips grazing forward—but still missed. The ball brushed his fingers and flew past.
He glanced back—before anyone else could react, Tao Zhi was already standing exactly where the ball would land, as if she had known all along what Ji Fan would do.
Zhao Mingqi stared, dumbfounded, keeping up the defense. “Damn, is this that twin telepathy or what?”
Jiang Qihuai was already running over.
He moved fast. Tao Zhi had barely touched the ball when he was already pressing down on her. Her movements were quick and precise; her dark eyes met his—steady, calm, almost cold.
For an instant, Jiang Qihuai’s motion stalled.
Tao Zhi licked her lips and, using that split second, slipped past him right out of his defensive range.
The point guard’s position on the court was the initiator of the team’s offense—by observing the teammates’ positions, they swiftly organized attacks and defense. It could be said to be the brain of the entire team.
From the corner of her eye, Tao Zhi glanced at Jiang Qihuai, then sped forward toward the basket.
She didn’t particularly like playing basketball. As a kid, she used to love it. But after she grew up and couldn’t beat Ji Fan anymore, it became frustrating—no sense of accomplishment.
And she’d always end up drenched in sweat.
But right now, Jiang Qihuai wasn’t on her team.
Tao Zhi didn’t know when it started, but all afternoon, there’d been a stifling, bottled-up anger pressing on her chest, one that she couldn’t let out, making her feel utterly unsettled.
She wanted to win against him.
She wanted him to kneel under the basket and beg for mercy.
She wanted him to be utterly convinced, to bow down and call her dad.
She wanted to step on him and crush him beneath her feet.
Jiang Qihuai’s team moved fast on defense. Tao Zhi, nearly 1.7 meters tall, looked like a tiny intruder surrounded by giants among the group of boys. She dribbled and pushed the ball back under the opposite basket, taking advantage of an opening to shout, “Li Shuangjiang!”
Li Shuangjiang was already standing at the three-point line.
Tao Zhi raised her hand, turning her wrist so that the back of her hand faced forward, the palm hooking the ball backward in a passing motion.
Everyone’s eyes shifted behind her, looking toward Li Shuangjiang’s position.
Her wrist flicked sharply, changing direction in an instant. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jiang Qihuai reach out, his hand perfectly blocking the ball’s path.
Tao Zhi’s heart gave a jolt.
The next second, Jiang Qihuai’s arm lowered slightly, and the ball flew from her hand, brushing his fingers as it shot straight past him—landing right in front of the basket where Ji Fan was already jumping up, as if he had teleported there.
With a loud bang, he caught the ball midair and slammed it cleanly into the hoop.
Jiang Zhengxun grabbed the whistle beside him, jumping up and blowing it wildly. “Was that a fake-out? What kind of fake-out was that? I’ve never seen one like it!”
The shrill whistle pierced through the outdoor court. From afar, Li Shuangjiang, still confused, shouted back, “Boss! You even tricked your own teammate! I thought you were passing to me!”
Zhao Mingqi was just as stunned. “Is this what they call twin telepathy, huh???”
Jiang Qihuai stood nearby, hands on his knees, breathing heavily.
Tao Zhi was panting too. She let out a long exhale to steady her breath, then turned her head. “What number was that?”
“Ten!” Ji Fan bounced up excitedly. “We won, we won! Zhao Mingqi, stop pretending! Drinks on you, drinks on you!”
Li Shuangjiang jumped up behind them too, shouting, “Don’t play dead! Häagen-Dazs, Häagen-Dazs!”
Tao Zhi flicked her ponytail and walked up to Jiang Qihuai.
Jiang Qihuai lifted his eyes, still bracing his hands on his knees.
Her tied-up hair was slightly messy from the intense game, with strands dampened by sweat clinging to her forehead. Her rosy lips parted slightly as she adjusted her breathing.
She looked like a cat that had just won a fight, tail high, gazing down at him with smug triumph.
“Convinced yet, Your Highness?” she said.
Jiang Qihuai looked at her and gave a quiet laugh.
His voice was slightly hoarse, the sharp, icy edge of his tone now veiled in a faint mist, threaded with uneven breaths, low and deep.
“Convinced,” he said. “Your Highness.”
