HRMCF Chapter 9

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🍋‍🟩 Completed Chapter

Shen Yan hesitated for a long time in the pet shop but ultimately decided not to buy it.

The scruffy dog—if you called it owned, it mostly survived by eating handouts from everyone in the neighborhood. It slept and ate under the slanted corner where miscellaneous items were piled in the building’s hallway. It didn’t even have a proper name. But if you said it wasn’t owned, it technically still had a master.

"Forget it. Taking it out to play once in a while is fine," Shen Yan said. "But if I buy a leash, that’s a bit too…"

Zhao Linsu replied, "Interfering with you walking yourself?"

Shen Yan rolled his eyes at him.

Who was walking whom—he wasn’t going to say it.

"Sure you’re not buying it?"

"Sure."

"No more walking the dog?"

"No more."

Shen Yan was resolute.

Zhao Linsu said, "Then let’s go back."

Before leaving, Zhao Linsu bought a few cans of pet food. Shen Yan thanked him on the dog’s behalf.

"No idea if it'll like these or not," Shen Yan said, glancing at the cans in the bag. "But it’s not picky—it’ll eat anything."

When they got to the entrance of the neighborhood, Shen Yan reminded again before getting out of the car, "Make sure to come watch the game if you have time."

Zhao Linsu rested a hand on the steering wheel with that usual cocky look. Shen Yan was half afraid he’d say something like “Beg me,” but thankfully Zhao Linsu only looked cocky—his brain still worked. "Depends," he said.

With things said to that extent, Shen Yan had no choice but to get out of the car with the cans in hand.

After Zhao Linsu drove off, Shen Yan gave the back of the car a little kick.

He really couldn’t understand what went on in that guy’s head.

At first, he wanted to pretend he hadn’t seen anything. But Zhao Linsu was too much—how could someone think about that every day?

It had gotten to the point where Shen Yan was starting to suspect his ability was malfunctioning. But his brother’s consistently normal display, plus the random strangers’ “Ms. XX” labels floating above their heads, proved his power was working just fine.

It was bizarre. If it happened once or twice, he could chalk it up to Zhao Linsu being bored and looking for a thrill. But every single day? Why?

Was it possible… that he really just looked that damn… beggable?

Shen Yan was so shocked by his own thought that his shoulder jerked involuntarily.

That night, after taking a shower, Shen Yan stood in front of the bathroom mirror, unusually serious as he scrutinized himself.

He didn’t look much like his older brother, whose features resembled their mother’s. Shen Yan, on the other hand, took after their grandfather.

Their grandfather had been considered classically handsome in his youth—a righteous and upright look with sharp eyebrows and bright eyes.

Shen Yan inherited about 80% of that appearance, though maybe because of his more easygoing and cheerful personality—or maybe just because it was peacetime now—his features didn’t carry that same stern intensity. He looked more scholarly, more refined.

He tilted his head and looked from side to side. He didn’t see anything remotely effeminate about his face.

Years of athletic training had kept his body in good shape.

Everything that should have muscles, did.

Shen Yan clenched his fist. The muscles on his exposed arm beneath his tank top rippled slightly, smooth and well-defined.

That punch might not be able to blow up the world, but it could definitely blow up someone’s dog head.

"You done admiring yourself yet?"

Shen Shen stood leaning against the bathroom door with his arms crossed, grinning.

Shen Yan jumped, startled by the sudden figure in the mirror. He turned around and complained, "Ge, do you think I’m handsome?"

Shen Shen burst out laughing.

"I’m serious," Shen Yan said.

It took a while for Shen Shen to stop laughing, and when he finally did, he forced himself to respond earnestly, "Handsome. Totally handsome. What’s got you suddenly caring about that? Got a crush on a girl?"

"No," Shen Yan replied. "Just asking randomly."

Shen Shen rubbed his nose, stifling his grin and speaking sincerely. "Of course you’re handsome. You forgot? Back in sophomore year, that girl came all the way to your house on Christmas to bring you an apple."

"I was sick. She was our class rep and came to check on me, brought it along."

"Like hell it was just ‘along the way.’ She liked you."

Shen Yan looked embarrassed. "Don’t tarnish her kindness," he muttered and ran past his brother into his room.

"If you wanna date, go for it!" Shen Shen shouted after him. "Be brave and go get 'em!"

Shen Yan closed the door, thinking his brother sounded like a walking anime slogan. Maybe he should man up once.

When it came to relationships, Shen Yan wasn’t exactly slow—at the very least, he wasn’t dumb.

Not to brag, but plenty of girls had liked him growing up.

He knew perfectly well what the class rep’s visit meant.

He just wasn’t interested in that way, and since she didn’t say anything outright, he pretended not to notice. In truth, neither of them were fools. The moment he played dumb, she understood.

Shen Yan had liked Tang Yi.

When he first started college, he met her during a club interview—she was the one interviewing him.

Tang Yi had long hair, was gentle and intelligent, and had this distinct tone when she spoke—very elegant and soothing. She was also socially graceful and mature, giving off big-sister vibes that really touched Shen Yan’s heart.

It was the first time a girl had made him feel that way. Even though she was his senior, he worked up the courage to prepare a confession.

Unfortunately, he later found out she already had a boyfriend at the time. Shen Yan gave up before even making a move. He wasn’t even sure if that counted as his first love.

Lying on his bed staring at the ceiling, Shen Yan wondered why he was thinking about all this. He and Zhao Linsu really had nothing in common—completely different worlds.

That guy... either reproduced asexually or through mitosis. Shen Yan couldn’t imagine a third possibility.

In terms of looks, Zhao Linsu was undeniably handsome too—just a different type.

After living in the city for six months, the wild aura Zhao Linsu used to have had gradually given way to something more refined, more like a scholar from an aristocratic family. But it wasn’t the quiet, bookish kind of refinement—it was sharp, arrogant, and defiant.

Shen Yan called it “punchable.”

The punchable Zhao Linsu was also popular at school—he just belonged to that category of people others “admired from afar but didn’t dare get close to.”

Honestly, if Zhao Linsu wanted to date, he definitely could.

But he didn’t.

Not only did he not date, Shen Yan had never even seen him show interest in any girl.

Shen Yan crossed his legs, brows tightly furrowed.

Zhao Linsu was one thing—but what the hell was going on with Zhu Ningbo?

The more Shen Yan thought about it, the more goosebumps he got. He rubbed his arms and thought, no matter what, at least Zhao Linsu was a bit more normal than Zhu Ningbo.

Maybe still salvageable?

The basketball game was unofficial, informal, organized by student councils from a few departments to warm up before the autumn sports meet. Once in college, sports meets weren’t as lively as in high school. Half the people had excuses to skip it. There were way more fun things to do. Apart from the chaotic circus that was the opening ceremony, the rest was mostly pointless.

Shen Yan wasn’t even an official member of the basketball team—he was a golden benchwarmer. Most of the time he just sat and watched. If he was ever actually called to play, it usually meant things were dire.

In his three years at university, there had been two inter-departmental basketball tournaments. Shen Yan had played four times. As a freshman, they’d embarrassingly lost to the humanities department—who had a freakishly high female-to-male ratio. It was humiliating. Sophomore year, they lost to the sports department, knocked out in the semi-finals. At least they died with honor.

This year, “luckily,” their first match was against the sports department again.

Shen Yan was quite satisfied with that.

He pulled his T-shirt off his back and changed into his jersey, then threw his jacket back on. The gym’s air conditioning was blasting—without it, he’d be freezing his ass off.

“So, what, go up there, show your face, and come back down?”

“Can’t. I heard one of the department heads is coming today.”

Shen Yan zipped up his jacket. “Which one?”

His teammate gave him a sympathetic look. “Your department. Professor Liang.”

Shen Yan: “…”

“New leader’s gotta make a splash,” the teammate said as he closed his locker. “Bro, good luck.”

Shen Yan went to confirm the news with one of his teammates from his major.

“They’re right. Professor Liang’s coming. My girlfriend’s in the student media group—they’re sending someone to take photos and write up an article.”

“Why’s he suddenly showing up to a basketball game?”

“No idea. Didn’t they say he’s getting promoted soon? Maybe he’s practicing that leadership vibe in advance.”

Shen Yan’s face was full of disbelief. He looked at his teammate for a long time. “Our performance on the court shouldn’t affect our academic grades, right?”

The teammate gave a bitter smile. “You tell me. I’m not taking any chances. I don’t want him targeting me later. Think about Zhu Ningbo.”

Shen Yan: Zhu Ningbo? That guy’s got guts—he even dares fantasize about Liang Keqing.

Shen Yan said, “Well, good luck. I probably won’t get subbed in.”

The teammate sighed. “Smart move, man. You really know how to plan ahead.”

Shen Yan thought to himself: it’s not planning. I’m just lazy.

Zhu Ningbo sent Shen Yan a message saying he’d arrived.

Shen Yan sat on the bench, wondering if Liang Keqing had arrived too.

[sy: Where are you?]
[Dingfengbo: East 310.]

The game hadn’t started yet. The gym was noisy. Shen Yan left the court to find Zhu Ningbo.

Heading upstairs, he quickly spotted Zhu Ningbo, whose build made him look more suited for the court than the audience.

Zhu Ningbo had a bucket of popcorn and a cup of iced Coke.

Shen Yan said, “You here for a movie?”

Zhu Ningbo grinned sheepishly. “They were selling it at the entrance. Want some?”

“No.”

Shen Yan sat next to him—this was the prime seat he’d saved for Zhao Linsu, with a perfect view of the sports department’s star players.

Damn it.

Still didn’t show.

Shen Yan had called and texted Zhao Linsu from the locker room, but he hadn’t responded.

Casually, Shen Yan grabbed two pieces of popcorn from Zhu Ningbo’s bucket, tossed them into his mouth, and said, “Liang Keqing’s here too. Be careful. I’m heading back.”

Zhu Ningbo gave a soft “eh.”

Shen Yan walked off with hands in his pockets. “Excuse me, sorry, coming through…”

Back on the court, he saw that Liang Keqing had already come down and was taking photos with the team. Shen Yan didn’t want to join the crowd and stood off to the side. His eyes met Liang Keqing’s for a moment.

Shen Yan: “…”

Shit.

He froze.

“What are you thinking about?”

Someone nudged him. Shen Yan snapped out of it. A fellow benchwarmer beside him said, “Your Professor Liang just made a big speech: ‘We can lose the game, but not our spirit.’ Very inspirational.”

Shen Yan looked up at the VIP seats.

Liang Keqing and the other department heads were chatting and laughing with the sports department leaders.

Shen Yan: This guy isn’t here to throw his weight around—he’s here to watch hot athletes!

Liang Keqing’s fantasy partner was a male athlete—and Shen Yan not only processed that explosive information quickly, he even calmly thought, Zhu Ningbo doesn’t stand a chance against that guy’s fair skin, good looks, and lean muscles.

A whistle blew—the game had started.

Shen Yan sat with arms folded, watching the VIP section.

Who’d have thought that icy-cold Professor Liang wasn’t above a few worldly desires.

Shen Yan looked away, thinking more and more that this “sexual fantasy” ability was really strange. It didn’t seem to align with who a person was at all.

A really useless power, honestly.

He sighed silently and fiddled with his phone.

[sy: The game’s started.]
[sy: If you can’t come, forget it.]

He put his phone away and focused on the game.

The sports department was still the same old sports department—dominating the court. By halftime, the score was ugly.

Then Shen Yan got called over.

His teammate, panting and gulping water, said, “Get ready to play second half. Don’t worry—they said they’ll ease up, make it look better for us.”

Shen Yan blinked. “I don’t know how to fake it. I’ll really play.”

“Then play for real. We’re gonna lose anyway.”

“…Fair enough.”

Sure enough, the second half looked more balanced. During the final quarter, still down by a lot, Shen Yan got subbed in. The teammate who’d warned him earlier gave him a high five and said, “Relax, I told them you’d really play. They said cool—they’d really play too.”

Shen Yan: “…Touching.”

Last year, they’d lost to the sports department too, and Shen Yan had played in the final quarter.

As the saying goes, don’t pit your hobby against someone’s profession.

The gap in skill was real—even height-wise.

Shen Yan was 183 cm, tall among regular people, but looked like a half-pint next to those jocks.

Not one of them was shorter than him.

“Hey, handsome.”

Shen Yan came face to face with a 190 cm center. The guy gave him a bright smile. “We meet again.”

Shen Yan returned a fake smile.

Apparently, fantasizing about the same sex was trendy now.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t that—it’s just that fantasizing about the opposite sex was so normal, he never noticed.

Shen Yan said, “Don’t hold back.”

The guy didn’t. In fact, he played even harder. Shen Yan was aggressively guarded. Last year’s loss had stung—Shen Yan may have played it cool, but deep down he’d always wanted revenge. It was okay to lose, but not to lose like that.

“Nice—!”

Zhu Ningbo stood up and cheered, spilling popcorn all over himself. Hearing others compliment Shen Yan’s three-pointer, he beamed like he was the one being praised.

He even mustered the courage to shout, “Go Shen Yan!”

His voice wasn’t alone, though—it was lost in the crowd’s collective roar.

“Your student’s pretty good,” the sports department leader said to Liang Keqing. “How’s his academic record? Then again, your department doesn’t seem to have any bad ones. Impressive—brains and brawn.”

Liang Keqing said calmly, “He’s not bad.”

Crushed in the first half, eased up in the second—the final quarter was the real climax.

Basketball was a team sport, but Shen Yan was now playing pure solo-hero mode.

Everyone could see this game was lost from the start. It wasn’t even important. Shen Yan couldn’t pull off a miracle alone. But still, watching him sprint, dribble, sweat dripping down his short hair and face—it was hard not to stand up and cheer.

His chest felt like it would explode. Eyes locked on the hoop, Shen Yan had only one goal.

A dunk.

He wanted to score in the most dramatic, aggressive way possible.

“So fast…”

Zhu Ningbo clenched his fists, eyes wide as Shen Yan, in his light blue jersey, weaved past three defenders like the wind. Zhu didn’t know basketball, but instinctively muttered, “Jump—jump—”

BANG—

A body hit the floor.

The moment Shen Yan fell, the gym erupted with screams.

“Are you okay—”

“Shen Yan—”

People swarmed over. Shen Yan quickly waved them off. His face was flushed red, hair soaked and sticking to his face. He grinned and gasped, “Nope, can’t. I’m done.”

“Bro, that was epic,” a sports department player said, helping him up. “That dunk was savage—like a real Slam Dunk ace.”

Still smiling and waving, Shen Yan signaled to the ref he was fine and gestured to sub out.

“Done. I’m dead,” he said, tugging at his sweat-soaked jersey. “Gotta catch my breath.”

No one questioned why. One teammate shook him like crazy, yelling, “Dude, that was insane! You made us look so good out there! Shen Yan, I love you—”

Escaping the team’s clutches, Shen Yan left through the center tunnel, still surrounded by cheering.

But as soon as he turned a corner out of sight, his calm expression disappeared.

Fuck, that hurts!

Pain stabbed through his ankle. Shen Yan leaned on the wall and slowly crouched down, face contorting in agony.

God knew how much willpower he’d used pretending to be fine just now.

“Is it broken…?” he muttered.

“Could be.”

A cool voice behind him made Shen Yan whip around.

Zhao Linsu, dressed in shirt and slacks, hands in his pockets, looked relaxed and aloof.

“When did you get here?” Shen Yan asked, surprised.

“Just now. Right when you got bodied and flew.”

“…”

Zhao walked over and grabbed Shen Yan’s arm, slinging it over his shoulder. “You sure looked tough out there.”

Shen Yan laughed awkwardly. “Professor Liang was watching. Had to put on a show.”

Zhao gave him a sideways glance. “You think you looked cool?”

“Kind of.”

Zhao gave him a look like he didn’t want to talk anymore, but Shen Yan kept grinning. “If I wasn’t cool, who was? Those two from the sports department? Pretty hot, right?”

“Getting distracted by hot guys on the court—no wonder you got flattened.”

“…Touché.”

“Use the emergency exit. No one there.”

Zhao added sarcastically, “Or go out front and sign autographs for your fans?”

Shen Yan ignored that. “Why’d you come? Thought you weren’t going to.”

“Didn’t say I wasn’t. I said ‘depends.’”

“Oh…”

Shen Yan wanted to keep chatting, but with Zhao supporting him, Shen Yan’s arm rested on Zhao’s shoulder, feeling the chill of his shirt—sending a shiver down his spine.

The emergency exit opened, revealing a long staircase. Shen Yan pulled away and held onto the railing. “Stay close, just in case.”

He gritted his teeth and slowly lowered his left foot.

Holy shit—that hurt.

His face twisted. That last jump must’ve gone too hard.

Stepping down hurt, pulling back hurt too. He turned his head, admitted defeat. “Linsu-ge, give me a hand?”

Standing at the top of the stairs, Zhao looked down at him, smirking. “Fly down yourself.”

Shen Yan: “…”

Calling him “ge” was such a waste. Total scam.

He turned, determined to go solo. But as soon as he put weight on his left foot, a strong arm wrapped around his waist. In the sudden weightlessness, Shen Yan instinctively grabbed Zhao’s collar, cool shirt buttons digging into his palm.

He looked up at Zhao, dazed.

Zhao’s smile was faint and, for once, free of sarcasm—his eyes shone bright and… warm?

Above his head, the name still hovered unmistakably.

Shen Yan’s brain short-circuited. That expression, that look, that smile—it all hit different. Some scary suspicion began to creep into his thoughts…

“Don’t squirm,” Zhao looked away and tightened his grip, carrying him steadily down the stairs. “Heavy as a wild boar.”

Shen Yan: “…”

Scared the hell out of him.

Now it feels like him again!