Chapter 12: Golden Star

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Zhou Zhexiao remained silent, only half-turning to look at him. The room was dim except for the glow from Xia Chiyi’s phone screen, casting a cold, glazed light over Zhou Zhexiao’s face. All the fine details of his expression were lost, leaving only the interplay of light and shadow outlining his features.

Though unwilling to admit it, Xia Chiyi had to concede that this guy was unbelievably handsome.

“Since you’re not asleep yet, want to watch together?” Xia Chiyi whispered as he moved closer.

His lowered voice and the rush of breath brushed against Zhou Zhexiao’s eardrums like countless feathers fluttering over his heart, leaving behind faint, delicate traces.

By the time Zhou Zhexiao reacted, Xia Chiyi was already propping himself up on the bed frame, about to climb over.

The space from the bed to the ceiling wasn’t tall enough for Xia Chiyi’s height. He lay on the frame, carefully avoiding hitting his head on the ceiling. His T-shirt was pushed up, revealing a taut waistline and sculpted abs. When he tried to settle down, he noticed Zhou Zhexiao’s head still rested squarely on the pillow, looking up at him with no intention of moving.

Xia Chiyi felt awkward—it seemed he had been reading too much into things. Zhou Zhexiao clearly had no intention of watching the video together.

“Oh, sorry for disturbing you.”

Just as Xia Chiyi was about to retract his leg, his ankle was suddenly caught. Strong fingers wrapped around it completely, exerting a force that seemed ready to pull him down hard. Xia Chiyi’s heart raced wildly, almost bursting.

He lay on the frame and looked back; Zhou Zhexiao remained lying there, silently watching him.

Bro, what exactly do you want? I try to come over but you don’t make room. When I want to go back, you pull me back.

After a brief stalemate, Zhou Zhexiao shifted slightly toward the wall, giving up half the space as best he could. But his hand didn’t loosen its grip; instead, he pulled Xia Chiyi’s ankle to rest near his own chest.

Xia Chiyi climbed over smoothly and lay down.

It had to be said: two tall guys on a single bed was truly cramped, leaving no room to spare. They had to lie on their sides to avoid touching each other.

When he stretched out his leg, Xia Chiyi could still feel the lingering pressure on his ankle, as if Zhou Zhexiao’s hand was still encircling it.

Xia Chiyi leaned toward Zhou Zhexiao, who seemed unsure of his intentions and kept moving backward until his back pressed firmly against the wall.

He didn’t understand why the other boy was getting closer, but instinctively gave up all the space.

For Xia Chiyi, it felt like the cliché villain cornering an innocent boy in a dark alley—was a wall slam coming next?

His mischievous side stirred with excitement, and he put on a deliberately wicked expression, like a villain from a melodramatic TV show. He licked his lips and moved closer to Zhou Zhexiao’s face.

Then, just like during the day, he gently brushed aside the stray hairs near Zhou Zhexiao’s ear and put the Bluetooth earphone in.

He caught a glimpse of Zhou Zhexiao’s expression from the corner of his eye. The other didn’t resist; in fact, he even closed his eyes briefly as the earphone was placed, seeming to enjoy Xia Chiyi’s attentiveness.

Disappointed, Xia Chiyi lay back, placing his phone between them and pulling Zhou Zhexiao’s hand to rest on the other side of the screen.

The video was a fan-made highlight reel of Ling Huanzhen’s college basketball career in the NCAA, from his playing days to retirement.

Sheng Xingming was a frequent figure in these clips.

They had once been opponents on the NCAA court, and later the best teammates in the World Junior Championships, Asian Championships, and even the Olympics, creating countless brilliant offensive and defensive plays together.

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Xia Chiyi watched intently. For example, in the Olympics, Sheng Xingming was double-teamed by two American players. As his shot clock was about to expire, everyone thought he would shoot. The players under the basket were ready to grab the rebound. Suddenly, with a thunderous roar, Ling Huanzhen caught the ball in midair and dunked it!

It was a powerful slam that shook the crowd.

Xia Chiyi exhaled excitedly, his knees trembling uncontrollably under the blanket, as if wanting to run in place. His knee bumped into Zhou Zhexiao’s leg.

Zhou Zhexiao didn’t move away, but Xia Chiyi’s attention was already caught by the next highlight. His eyelashes, illuminated by the phone’s light, looked like two tiny brushes. His nose was sharp, and his cheeks puffed out slightly from lying on the pillow, giving him a childlike charm.

Gradually, Xia Chiyi relaxed his grip on the phone. Quietly, Zhou Zhexiao inched the phone closer. Xia Chiyi leaned in, eventually resting his chin on Zhou Zhexiao’s shoulder. Soft breaths brushed repeatedly over the skin at the collar.

Until the boy’s eyelids finally drooped, and he fell asleep quietly against Zhou Zhexiao’s shoulder.

The phone had run out of battery. Zhou Zhexiao placed it on the bedside shelf and gently removed the earphone from Xia Chiyi’s ear.

As he adjusted to the darkness, he lifted his hand from Xia Chiyi’s obediently resting cheek.

His fingers were long and elegant, nails trimmed into smooth curves. Such a hand could always cast beautiful arcs. On the side of his ring finger near the middle finger was a tiny golden star.

When Zhou Zhexiao wiped his eyes at the breakfast stall, covered his eyes in the dorm, and just now held the phone’s light filtering through his fingers, he had noticed this star nestled between his fingers.

It was from a long, long time ago—so long that Sheng Xingming himself had forgotten. It was a small star he had drawn on the boy’s ring finger to comfort him after countless missed shots.

The boy had tattooed that star onto his skin. So, even ten years after Sheng Xingming’s passing, every time the boy scored, that star was with him.

The whole world had etched Sheng Xingming into history, but only that boy, shot after shot, carried him into the future.

The next morning, Xia Chiyi woke to find himself sprawled across a bed. Opposite him was not the dorm window, but the door.

“Huh?” Xia Chiyi rubbed his head, slowly regaining consciousness. He suddenly remembered—this was Zhou Zhexiao’s bed!

Where was Zhou Zhexiao?

The space beside him was empty.

Had he fallen asleep first, leaving Zhou Zhexiao no choice but to move to the other bed?

But when he looked over, his own bed was empty.

“Ah, this guy’s really disciplined... didn’t even sleep in.”

Lowering his head, Xia Chiyi saw Ye Chaoying had been leaning on the pillow, watching for who knew how long.

“Damn... don’t scare me early in the morning!”

Ye Chaoying chuckled, “Before going to bed last night, I saw you and Zhou Zhexiao sleeping in your own beds. But now you’re in his bed. So, what’s your relationship with Zhou Zhexiao?”

“What relationship? Roommates!” Xia Chiyi explained helplessly. “We were watching Ling Huanzhen’s game highlights together last night.”

“Oh.” Ye Chaoying looked a little disappointed as the gossip died down. “By the way, I’ve already found out who those two guys Coach Cheng introduced are.”

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“Who?” Xia Chiyi asked as he climbed down.

“One of them is the guy who gave sweet potato chips to Ma Wenhua. He’s a junior this year, named Du He, 1.98 meters tall, and used to be the team’s center.”

“Is he the honest guy who got pushed out by the Lobster and Abalone?” Xia Chiyi asked as he brushed his teeth.

“Yes. After Ma Wenhua got drunk, he slapped that sweet potato guy’s face and said, ‘You blockhead, you’ll never be a starter.’ Feeling hopeless, the sweet potato guy left the team. Now he’s studying hard and aiming for a good job in the city after graduation. Finding him is easy—just stake out the library.”

“Ma Wenhua really picks on honest guys. Such a scoundrel,” Xia Chiyi said through gritted teeth, clearly annoyed.

Ye Chaoying tilted his head, “You used to be pretty well-behaved. When opponents trash-talked you on the court, you just ‘hmph.’”

“Opponents? You mean you?” Xia Chiyi replied sourly.

Ye Chaoying thought for a while and decided that among all his opponents, he was the gentlest to Xia Chiyi, never uttering a rude word.

“The other guy is probably a sophomore. He used to play both power forward and center. He’s 1.95 meters tall and is a handsome guy from the north.”

Xia Chiyi spat out toothpaste foam and said, “Does 1.95 meters automatically make someone a handsome guy?”

“It’s ‘Handsome North.’ Handsome as in good-looking, North as in from the north. Please don’t randomly rename people.”

“So what’s the beef between Handsome North and Ma Wenhua?”

“That’s an interesting story. Apparently, Ma Wenhua used the basketball team’s budget to buy a batch of counterfeit sports equipment. Handsome North caught him in the act and publicly exposed Ma Wenhua in front of the whole team and school leaders. Ma Wenhua lost face and has been sidelined ever since.”

Counterfeit sports gear is dangerous. Imagine training with a faulty barbell—if it falls, you might not survive the hospital.

“Since being benched, Handsome North has barely bothered to show up. Instead, he’s using his physique to work as a model. Isn’t that more promising than staying on the basketball team?”

“Where can we find him?” Xia Chiyi asked.

“At a photography studio. I’ve got the address. Once Zhou Zhexiao’s back, we can go find them.”

Speaking of whom, here Zhou Zhexiao was, returning just then.

He wore a light gray hoodie and black sweatpants. The compression pants emphasized the muscle lines from his ankles to his knees, making Xia Chiyi unable to look away. Zhou Zhexiao held a plastic bag, placing it on Xia Chiyi’s desk.

“Breakfast.”

He opened the cabinet, grabbed a sports drink, twisted off the cap, and took a couple of swigs.

Watching the ankle bone peeking out from beneath Zhou Zhexiao’s running shoes, Xia Chiyi suddenly recalled the strength with which Zhou Zhexiao had grasped his ankle the night before. It was a silent hold, a subtle desire to protect, as if shielding him from all the world’s harm.

[Author’s Note]

Xia Chiyi: To me, the star between the fingers is Sheng Xingming’s eyes. Every shot I make is watched over by him.