Chapter 24 — I Didn’t Take That Cigarette Because You Told Me Not To
After sending the man and the dog off, Yu Fan went back to the same old internet café.
“Got any open PCs?” he asked.
The owner looked up from his screen. “Plenty. Back from dinner?”
Yu Fan grunted.
Chen Jingshen had picked an honest noodle shop. One bowl was massive, even with a poached egg hiding at the bottom. Yu Fan had walked a loop and still felt full.
“Overnight?” the owner asked while logging him in.
“Yeah.”
“Hang on then. There are lots of free spots tonight. I’ll set you up somewhere comfortable.”
They all lived on the same street, and Yu Fan was a regular. The owner had heard some things about Yu Fan’s family. He could not help asking, “Why not just live in the school dorms?”
“Too lazy to go to night study.”
“…”
Nancheng No. 7 High had dorms, but the location was great and commuting was easy. Plus dorm students had to attend evening self-study, so the school had way more day students than most.
Once his machine was ready, Yu Fan sprawled on the sofa and booted up the shooter again. One match in, it suddenly felt pointless. A walk in the night air had taken the edge off his urge to kill pixels.
He clicked on a movie he had heard of and let it play as background noise, planning to doze.
He had barely closed his eyes when someone woke him.
The cleaning auntie pushed her cart by, pointed to the plastic bag on his desk, and asked, “Kiddo, is this trash?”
The owner happened to walk past with a bowl of instant noodles. Hearing that, he glanced over on reflex.
Yu Fan had tossed things carelessly. The plastic bag lay sadly against several books, and the cover of the one on top showed through, just enough to read the slogan: “Zero foundation in math? Choose Clumsy Bird Flies First!”
Right over the words “Clumsy Bird” was a chubby little cartoon bird flapping pathetically.
The owner saw Yu Fan’s stone-cold face fixed on the bag with pure loathing. He told the auntie, dead sure, “Not his. Must be something a customer left. Please keep it at the counter and see if someone comes back for it.”
Her eyesight was not great. She nodded and reached for the bag.
Yu Fan was faster.
“It’s mine.” He yanked it back and stuffed it behind him as a cushion. His gaze wandered anywhere but the screen. “Thanks. Don’t throw it out.”
This time, Wang Lu’an really was on his last warning from his dad. Tank the next exam and he would lose his allowance, his phone, and weekend freedom.
So the next day between classes he ran to Chen Jingshen twice with his workbooks.
Turned out the rumors were true. The academic god did not talk much, but when he explained a problem, it was crystal clear and painfully thorough.
A little too thorough. Also, a bit loud.
“Top student, my basics are trash, sure, but I still remember middle school. No need to waste your time teaching me all that again…”
“Learn it again,” Chen Jingshen said. “Strengthens memory.”
“…”
They finished another problem. Chen Jingshen tapped his pen on the desk with a crisp click. “Got it?”
At the exact same moment, the fingers of the guy sleeping beside him twitched and curled into a loose fist.
Wang Lu’an’s heart jumped with that hand. He whispered, “Got it, got it. Maybe, uh, we could keep it down a notch? There are a lot of people around. Would be bad to bother others…”
“Mm.”
Chen Jingshen’s volume did not change. “What’s the next one.”
“…Right. This one—”
“When is it going to end?” Yu Fan lifted his head from his arms and glared at Wang Lu’an, voice like ice. “What, is there a sign on Zhuang Fangqin’s office door that says ‘Wang Lu’an banned from asking questions’?”
“I’m just hungry for knowledge. Besides, Teacher Zhuang isn’t even in. She went to observe an open class…”
Wang Lu’an leaned closer, then blinked. “F***, your face. Did you pull an all-nighter? I’ve always wondered, how do you stand spending the night in that dump of a café near your place?”
Chen Jingshen glanced over.
Yu Fan’s skin was cool and pale. Any color showed up starkly on him. The shadows under his eyes were a bruised blue and his brows drooped. He did not look great.
Feeling that look, Yu Fan’s first instinct was to bury his face again. He knew exactly what he looked like right now.
Then he thought, what the hell. Ugly so what. Why should he care how he looked in front of Chen Jingshen?
“Cheap,” Yu Fan muttered. “It’s not as bad as you say. They have sofas…”
His forehead went cool, and his words cut off.
Two fingers, closed together, touched his brow.
The messy hair at his hairline was swept aside, revealing the full length of his eyes and taking a few points of menace off his face.
They both froze.
When Chen Jingshen withdrew his hand, Yu Fan came back to himself. Chin still propped on his arms, he turned his head and started, “Are you—”
“You look the same as last time,” Chen Jingshen said.
Yu Fan: “…”
“If your health is weak, don’t stay up all night.”
“??” Yu Fan thought. You can’t even hold your own dog and you have the nerve to lecture me?
Seeing that look, Wang Lu’an feared one more sentence from Chen Jingshen would get him dragged to the bathroom and KO’d, so he clapped his workbook shut. “Last time? What last time? I don’t even… Hey, Yu Fan, don’t sleep. P.E. is next. I told Zuo Kuan we’d play ball, he is probably hogging a court already. Let’s go.”
No matter how the schedule changed, Class 7 and Class 8 had two P.E. periods together every week. The classes often set up games against each other.
When they arrived, Zuo Kuan clicked his tongue. “Why so slow? We’ve been waiting forever.”
“P.E. teacher dismissed us late,” Wang Lu’an panted. “I was scared we’d lose the court.”
“A guy wanted to play badminton but I chased him off.” Zuo Kuan counted heads. “Why are there only four of you?”
One of them had bedhead and was already drifting toward the stone bench.
“Yu Fan doesn’t play,” Wang Lu’an said. “So it’s three on three.”
“Three my a**. We have five. Full court.” Zuo Kuan grinned.
“We were five. Guan Feiyuan got called to training.”
“Grab someone,” Zuo Kuan said, glancing at Yu Fan. “You in? I’ve got everyone else.”
Yu Fan yawned. “Whatever. If you can find someone, I’ll play.”
Two minutes later.
Yu Fan stared at the person Wang Lu’an had dragged over, then said flatly, “I’m out.”
“Hey, hey, hey, you can’t bail.” Wang Lu’an hooked his arm and dropped his voice. “No one else. Just make do. You’re so strong, think of it as giving Class 8 a free kill.”
Chen Jingshen’s gaze slid over the two of them whispering side by side. Wang Lu’an had a big frame, which made the boy next to him look even slimmer.
Yu Fan’s face did not change. He walked straight onto the court without acknowledging Chen Jingshen.
Wang Lu’an hustled after him. As he passed Chen Jingshen, he patted his shoulder. “Top student, here’s the plan. You are our numbers. If you get the ball, pass it to any open teammate. No need to drive or shoot.”
“Okay,” Chen Jingshen said.
Zuo Kuan lined up against Yu Fan and laughed. “Scraping the bottom, huh. You actually brought Chen Jingshen. If he gets bumped are you going to run crying to the teacher?”
He flicked a look at Chen Jingshen and faltered.
Chen Jingshen had taken off the school jacket he wore no matter the weather. Only a white shirt was left. He had rolled his sleeves in a hurry, messy but sharp.
“You think you have time to babysit him?” Yu Fan said. “Quit the bullsh**. Start the game. Once more people show up, you’ll embarrass yourself.”
“Damn it, save the trash talk.” Zuo Kuan smirked. “Maybe other classes can’t beat you. We have two varsity guys today. You think we’re scared?”
They were not. The plan was set. The varsity guys would pin Yu Fan. The rest would manage.
First period went well. They did what they planned. With two bodies on him, Yu Fan still found ways to score, but they forced him to work.
When the clock buzzed for a break, Zhang Xianjing, acting as ref, raised her hand with theatrical flair.
Yu Fan scooped the ball and flipped it at Zuo Kuan. “Want a third guy on me?”
“Stop flexing,” Zuo Kuan said smugly. “Look at the score.”
Wang Lu’an glanced up and swore. “F***.”
Without Guan Feiyuan, Class 7’s points usually came from Yu Fan. He was still scoring, but with two on him he was limited. After the first quarter they were actually down two.
During the break, Wang Lu’an gulped water. “Sh**, we might hand this to them. If Zuo Kuan wins he will brag for a month.”
“Game isn’t over.” Yu Fan said, “Quit slacking. Play.”
On his way back to the court, Yu Fan’s gaze flicked sideways.
Everyone had worked up a sweat. Everyone except the one who had spent a whole period passing. Chen Jingshen had not even breathed hard.
Suddenly Chen Jingshen lowered his eyes and met Yu Fan’s. Yu Fan looked away at once and covered with, “Keep passing to me.”
He did not notice that he had not gotten an answer.
Second period began. Yu Fan was still locked down. Wang Lu’an failed to break through and had to swing the ball back. He looked around. Everyone was covered except for one tall, lean figure standing idle.
He sent the ball there on instinct.
Zuo Kuan coasted over to defend, expecting another pass to Yu Fan. Yu Fan expected the same.
After a few seconds without a pass, Yu Fan frowned and glanced over.
Chen Jingshen stood in place, dribbling one-handed as he faced Zuo Kuan. His hand was big. Every time the ball came up it fell perfectly back into his palm.
The next second the boy leaned forward, slipped past Zuo Kuan with the ball, took a few light steps into the paint and rose for a clean midrange.
Clang.
Nothing but net.
Everyone else on the court: “?”
It was a simple play. On Chen Jingshen it looked… surprising.
“Top student,” Wang Lu’an breathed, “you can play basketball?”
Chen Jingshen fetched the ball and tossed it to Zuo Kuan. “A little.”
Yu Fan averted his eyes before Chen Jingshen could look back.
No wonder every pass from him found Yu Fan’s hands. So he could play. He could have said that earlier instead of acting cool.
Zuo Kuan recovered and laughed. “Really? Never would have guessed. Guess I should put some effort into guarding you then.”
Two minutes later, he was beaten off the dribble again.
“Ha ha,” he said weakly. “This time I’ll be serious.”
Third quarter, three of his shots were stuffed by Chen Jingshen’s light, effortless blocks.
“Ha,” said Zuo Kuan again, even weaker.
Final quarter. Chen Jingshen dribbled with one hand, sent Zuo Kuan chasing left and right, then lifted his arm and, with a flick of his fingers, sank a three over the top.
“Your mom,” Zuo Kuan muttered.
This is “a little”? Be f***ing for real.
With two minutes left, Class 8 trailed by twelve. Losing happened. When their varsity guys were out, the losses were uglier. What hit different this time was the vibe.
Yu Fan was a live wire, all sharp edges. If you lost to him, at least you lost with blood pumping.
Chen Jingshen was the opposite. Even on the court he was cool and quiet. It was like going all out and getting flattened by someone who never broke a sweat.
Zuo Kuan suddenly understood how the perennial No. 2 of the grade must feel.
Last possession. There was no hope of winning, but Class 8 still played it straight.
Chen Jingshen dribbled, wiped sweat from his chin with the back of his hand. A varsity guy fronted him and Zuo Kuan shadowed hard. Driving would be tough.
He met Yu Fan’s eyes for under a second. They both looked away.
Yu Fan swiped the sweat at his temple and strolled two steps forward.
Chen Jingshen advanced, stopped a breath behind the three-point line, and raised the ball. Zuo Kuan sprang, sure he would shoot.
Chen Jingshen cut him a cool glance, dropped his hand, and snapped the ball left.
It landed right where it should.
Yu Fan tore forward, rose into the air, shirt hem flashing up to expose a strip of sweat-slick waist. He turned his wrist and hammered the ball through the rim.
Perfect dunk.
“Sh**!” Wang Lu’an slapped his thigh. “How is this a P.E. scrimmage? Shouldn’t this be at the Staples Center, twenty camera rigs around the court, live at eight nationwide—”
“Enough,” Zuo Kuan groaned. “What does this have to do with you?”
A long-empty classroom in the science building. It was quiet, off the cameras, perfect for doing stuff.
All ten boys collapsed in the back two rows, drenched and lighting up.
“How does it not have to do with me?” Wang Lu’an crowed. “I bask in reflected glory.”
One of Class 8’s varsity players sighed. “I don’t want to do anything with your class anymore. We lost the relay last time and I got chewed out all weekend. If coach finds out I lost today too…”
“That’s not on you,” Wang Lu’an said. “It is clearly Zuo Kuan dragging you down.”
“Get f***ed,” Zuo Kuan said.
The varsity guy laughed. “Still, that game was legit.”
“I just didn’t expect Chen Jingshen to pass at the end,” Zuo Kuan grumbled. “If I had known I would have cut it off. No way I let Yu Fan flex like that.”
Truth was, Yu Fan had not expected it either. But in the moment Chen Jingshen looked at him, he somehow knew.
Yu Fan rolled his fingers and could not help peeking sideways.
Chen Jingshen sat quietly, sweat beaded at the tip of his nose, bangs clumped on his forehead, shirt smudged in a few places. Rarely, he looked a little messy. His breathing had already leveled out and his face was calm, unlike a few guys still wheezing like dogs.
Yu Fan had not planned to let him tag along. Wang Lu’an insisted that the game was way more intense than the three-thousand-meter run and he was afraid Chen Jingshen would faint on the way back. Yu Fan had experience, so he did not argue.
“No idea if Xianjing recorded any of that,” Wang Lu’an said, blowing smoke. “I’ll ask.”
“Dream on,” Zuo Kuan said. “Even if she did, it is only the two of them.”
“…Fair,” Wang Lu’an admitted.
“Top student,” he asked, “how many years have you played?”
“It has been a long time,” Chen Jingshen said.
“You have not played in ages and you are still that good? Your threes were money.”
“Good luck,” Chen Jingshen said.
Cigarette finished, Zuo Kuan still itched. He pulled out another pack. “Yu Fan, really not taking one?”
Yu Fan leaned on a desk playing on his phone and shook his head.
Zuo Kuan’s eyes drifted to someone else. The pack slid over and hovered in front of Chen Jingshen. “Top student, want to try? Once you learn, it helps when the pressure gets heavy—”
Bang.
A chair leg shot out, knocking Zuo Kuan’s stool back. He skittered with it, eyes snapping to meet Yu Fan’s cold stare.
“See,” Wang Lu’an said with a frown. “That’s your problem. You can’t even quit yourself and you’re pushing it on someone else.”
“I was just being polite. Everyone is smoking. I did not want the top student to feel unwelcome.”
“If you think there’s too much smoke, shove it up your nose and puff there.” Yu Fan stood and kicked Chen Jingshen’s chair, not hard, not soft. “Let’s go.”
Back in the classroom, Wang Lu’an’s first move was to ask Zhang Xianjing about the video. Miraculously, she had recorded it.
“Where am I? Why is it all Chen Jingshen and Yu Fan?” he wailed. “We are tight and you did not even shoot my shadow?”
“Bullsh**,” Zhang Xianjing said, pointing to a corner of the frame. “Look down. Are those not the tips of your shoes?”
“…”
They bickered in the front row. Fresh off the game, Yu Fan had lost all desire to nap. He leaned back and returned to his true calling, Snake. The early game was easy, so he played half-heartedly and idly spun a cigarette pack in his other hand, the box clicking now and then.
“Yu Fan.”
Chen Jingshen’s hand hung off the desk, a pen balanced between his fingers. His voice was quiet.
Yu Fan did not answer, just slowed his taps.
A few seconds of silence. Yu Fan frowned. “Say it.”
“I did what you said,” Chen Jingshen said, glancing at the thing in Yu Fan’s hand. “I didn’t take the cigarette.”
Yu Fan: “?”
When did I tell you anything, and why are you listening to me?
“So to be fair,” Chen Jingshen said, “shouldn’t you listen to me and not smoke—”
“Shut up,” Yu Fan ground out.
Thump thump thump.
Someone rapped hard on the window. Yu Fan instantly slid his phone under his thigh, rolled the cigarette pack into his palm, and looked up.
Hu Pang glowered through the glass. “Open up.”
Behind him stood Zuo Kuan’s crew, all sour-faced. They had clearly been hauled out too.
Yu Fan unlatched the window. “What.”
“You tell me.” Hu Pang jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “You lot. Were you just smoking in a science building classroom?”
“No.”
“Lying again?” Hu Pang pulled out his phone. “A student sent me an anonymous tip. Look. Is this you?”
At the word “tip,” Yu Fan’s face cooled. He looked.
Unknown number: Director Hu, I want to report Yu Fan, Wang Lu’an, Zuo Kuan… and several others for smoking in a classroom in the science building.
Unknown number: Yu Fan smokes all year on campus and has a bad influence. His drawer is full of cigarettes. Please investigate and punish promptly.
Unknown number: [photo]
The photo caught only one person, half of Yu Fan’s body visible through the back door, chin in hand, lazing in a fog of smoke. It was grainy, probably shot from far.
Yu Fan skimmed it. “So where are the cigarettes?”
“You can see the smoke—”
“I said the cigarettes were mine,” Zuo Kuan muttered behind him. “No one else—”
“You think I buy that?” Hu Pang rubbed his brow and pointed at Yu Fan’s desk. “Empty your drawer. Or better, take the cigarettes out yourself.”
Yu Fan clicked his tongue, annoyed, and reached in. He barely kept anything there and cleared it fast. When he went for the last textbook, his fingers brushed something in the very back. He froze for a fraction, then shoved it farther in, face unmoved.
“These look newer than the ones in the office…” Hu Pang scanned the desktop. “Where’s your pen?”
“Don’t have one,” Yu Fan said.
“…”
Pain flashed across Hu Pang’s face. He bent to look inside. “There is still something. Take it out.”
“That’s not cigarettes.”
“What if they are tucked in there?” Hu Pang said. “Take it out.”
“…”
Yu Fan did not move.
“Want me to check myself?”
Sh**. Yu Fan drew a breath, yanked the books from the back, and slammed them on the desk.
The thud made Hu Pang jump. “You got a temper now? Slamming things at a director—”
He stopped when he saw the covers. Everyone else looked too.
Clumsy Bird Flies First 2017.
Must-Drill Junior High Math Problems.
An English Dictionary Even Grade-Schoolers Can Memorize.
“?” said Hu Pang.
“...?” said everyone else.
Regret hit Yu Fan so hard his ears burned. Should have just taken the punishment and walked.
“Ahem.” Hu Pang coughed twice, shaken. “Well. Good. Turn out your pockets. And what is that other hand doing, just hanging there?”
Yu Fan: “.”
Stupid. Why was he fiddling with the cigarette pack?
He was still wondering where to stash it when a warm fingertip brushed the back of his hand. Before he could react, the fingers gently pried his open and whisked the pack away.
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