Chapter 1 — Why don’t you come sit a little closer?
The alley was narrow and cramped.
The walls on both sides were mottled and peeling, plastered with half-torn posters offering “Big Money for a Baby.”
Inside came the sounds of scuffling, fists hitting flesh, mixed with bursts of harsh curses.
When Wang Luan arrived, a gut-wrenching groan echoed out from inside. His heart jumped. Gripping the baseball bat he had just stolen from home, he charged in shouting,
“You bastards, ambushing my brother? Nobody’s leaving today! Yu Fan, hang in there, I’m—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
He froze where he stood.
Several people were sprawled across the ground, groaning and clutching their sides. The worst off was a buzz-cut guy, still sucking air through his teeth in pain.
And beside him stood another boy.
He was tall and lean, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, showing pale, slender arms.
Yu Fan wiped the corner of his mouth, brushed the dust from his clothes, then slowly crouched down to look at the man on the ground.
He held a folded combat knife in one hand, tapped the man’s cheek lightly, and asked in a quiet voice,
“Every time you see me, you’re going to jump me?”
The man, who had been so full of swagger before, now lay perfectly still with his eyes shut.
“No… that’s not exactly what I said…”
“Next time,” Yu Fan said evenly, “bring more people.”
Twenty minutes earlier, Wang Luan had called Yu Fan to ask him to go to the internet café. They had barely exchanged a few words before chaos broke out on the other end. Yu Fan was being cornered, and it sounded like there were several of them.
Yu Fan had said only “I’ll tell you later” before hanging up. That left Wang Luan panicking. Luckily, he had already asked where Yu Fan was, so he jumped into a taxi right away.
Now Wang Luan awkwardly lowered the bat. He counted five men on the ground, all big and tall.
Yu Fan straightened up, tossed the knife into his pocket as if it were nothing, and as he passed said simply, “Let’s go.”
It was not until Yu Fan had already walked out of the alley that Wang Luan came to his senses, grabbed his bat, and hurried after him.
A few hundred meters away was a familiar street. A few steps to the right stood the school gate.
Since the new term had not started yet, the area was quiet.
They went into their usual milk-tea shop.
After greeting the lady at the counter, Wang Lu’an looked around at the familiar shop and the passersby outside. Finally, he let out the breath he had been holding.
“Damn, I was scared out of my mind. Why didn’t you wait for me?”
Yu Fan bought a pack of tissues and sat down lazily on a bench outside.
“Wait for you? At your speed, you’d only make it in time to pull a sheet over me.”
“Don’t say that.” Wang Lu’an glared. “I didn’t mean you had to stand there. You could have run. They had numbers. What if you’d lost?”
“Too tiring. Didn’t feel like running.”
Wang Lu’an nodded. That probably was more tiring than fighting five people.
Yu Fan had two dark bruises on his face, a bit of blood at the corner of his mouth, and his hoodie was filthy. People passing by could not help glancing at him.
He dabbed at himself with the tissues, barely making an effort.
“Where were you saying we’d go online?”
“You still want to go like that? Forget it.” Wang Luan picked up his phone and pressed the voice button.
“Hey, guys, don’t come. Yu Fan already took them all down. No need.”
“You called for backup?”
“Of course. Otherwise, two against five is unfair. And I even brought my dad’s baseball bat…” Wang Luan suddenly thought of something and looked at Yu Fan’s pocket.
“Wait, why did you bring a knife?”
“Not mine. Theirs.”
“They came at you with knives?” Wang Luan sucked in a breath and looked Yu Fan up and down.
“I’ve heard the school next door is scummy, but this is insane.”
Yu Fan did not reply. He pulled out his phone. Thank God, it still worked.
The screen showed over twenty unread messages in the group chat that Wang Luan had created. Yu Fan ignored them.
Wang Luan, on the other hand, was happily bragging again.
“Who else? Those jerks from next door. Last time two of them tried to extort someone near our school and ran into us, and Yu Fan thrashed them. Turns out they were lackeys of that buzz-cut guy. Buzz-cut said he’d beat us on sight. You guys should’ve seen him just now. He didn’t even dare squeak when Yu Fan was done with him.”
Wang Luan set his phone down and turned, just as Yu Fan pressed a tissue to his bleeding lip.
Wang Luan winced. “That looks painful.”
Yu Fan paused. “You’re the one hurting?”
“Looks painful,” Wang Luan said, then stood up. “Should we go to a hospital?”
“Sure. Call a car,” Yu Fan said with a tilt of his chin. “If we wait two more minutes, it’ll heal itself.”
Wang Luan sat back down.
“Why did it have to be your face? School starts tomorrow. If Fang Qin sees you like this, she’ll kill you.”
Fang Qin was their homeroom teacher, surname Zhuang. Everyone in class called her by her given name behind her back.
Mentioning school made Yu Fan glance toward the gate.
“Why’s the gate open?”
“The seniors are already in class. They start two weeks early.” Wang Luan took a sip of milk tea.
“Some of our grade too. The school picked a bunch of top students for a winter boot camp. Being one of them sounds miserable.”
Yu Fan looked away. “Oh.”
Across the street, a barbecue stand began to open. The smell of cumin and grilled meat drifted over.
Wang Luan, who had skipped dinner, sniffed the air and fidgeted.
“You must be starving after that fight. Come on, let’s eat.”
“I’m fine. You go.” Yu Fan waved him off.
“Fine, wait here. I’ll bring you something.”
Yu Fan’s phone kept ringing. Annoyed, he opened the chat, saw that Wang Luan’s bragging had already pushed it past ninety-nine messages, muted it, and slipped the phone back into his pocket. His fingers brushed against something cool and metallic.
He hesitated, then pulled out the black folding combat knife.
School was letting out. Students in uniform streamed from the gates.
Two girls walked out arm in arm, chatting and laughing.
“How’d you do on that quiz?”
“Don’t ask. It was brutal. I guessed the last question. You?”
“Me? Probably bottom again. Honestly, how did I even get into this winter boot camp? You geniuses are from another planet.” She stretched. “Whatever. Once school officially starts tomorrow, I’ll be back in my regular class, living the easy life. I want milk tea. Coming?”
Her friend nodded, but after two steps she was suddenly pulled back by the sleeve.
“What?”
“Forget it, let’s not go.” Her friend stared toward the milk-tea shop, voice low. “Look who’s sitting there.”
She followed her gaze.
The milk-tea shop had been beside the school for years, cheap and good. Usually it was full of students after class.
But now, though people were still buying drinks, everyone grabbed theirs and left quickly. Only one person sat outside.
He was sitting in a loose, lazy posture, long legs stretched out. His bangs almost brushed his lashes, his skin so pale that the bruises on his face looked sharp and dark. Blood stained the corner of his mouth.
Everyone else wore neat winter uniforms, but he was in a dirty white hoodie.
Head down, he was toying with a folding combat knife. The blade caught the light as he pressed it against the back of his other hand, as if testing its edge.
The girl instinctively took a step back. “Who is that?”
“Yu Fan,” her friend whispered. “From Class Seven.”
“He’s hurt?”
“Of course. He probably just fought someone.” Her friend’s voice trembled with disbelief. “You’ve never heard of Yu Fan?”
“No,” she said after thinking. “Though I have heard his name plenty of times in the flag-raising announcements.”
Her friend pretended to browse the snack rack while sneaking glances.
“I’ve got a friend in his class. She said that when he first entered high school, he fought seniors and made them cry. He sleeps through class or skips it entirely. Bad temper too. Someone once looked at him funny in the cafeteria, and he dumped his whole tray on them. I think he even hit a teacher. He’s a total delinquent.”
The girl stared, speechless. She was just about to suggest leaving when the boy suddenly moved.
He must have pressed too hard, because the blade sank into his skin, leaving a thin cut that quickly welled with blood.
She gasped. Before she could react, Yu Fan tossed the knife aside, pressed a tissue against the wound, then lifted his eyes and looked straight at them.
She finally saw his face up close. She had seen him at school assemblies before, but never this clearly.
His eyes were long and narrow, a tiny mole sat at the corner of his right eye, and another on his cheek. His eyelids were thin, his face bruised. The moment his gaze swept over, she felt a chill run through her chest.
Oh no. He’s going to throw milk tea at me.
But a second later, she realized he wasn’t looking at them.
Puzzled, she turned around and saw a tall boy standing behind them.
He stood straight as a pine tree. His uniform's spotless, barely a wrinkle in sight. There was even a faint scent of soap.
His gaze, like theirs, was fixed on the boy at the milk-tea shop.
Her eyes widened slightly. She didn’t know Yu Fan, but she definitely knew this one.
Every exam that arranged seats by rank put him in the first row, first seat of Class One.
Yu Fan had already noticed someone staring.
He hadn’t expected that when he looked up, the boy would meet his gaze without hesitation, face expressionless. After a few seconds, the boy seemed to notice the bruises on Yu Fan’s face and frowned slightly, as if in disgust.
That faint look made Yu Fan’s temper flare for no reason.
After a pause, realizing the other really was staring, Yu Fan snapped the blade shut, tapped the seat beside him, and said lazily,
“Like what you see? Why don’t you come sit a little closer?”
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