Chapter 7: I Am Different from "Them"

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Zhou Zhexiao looked into Xia Chiyi’s eyes and began, “Sheng Xingming’s mother passed away in the fifth year after his death. Before that, his younger brother had always served as his assistant, managing Sheng’s life—everything revolved around him, and no one noticed his existence.”

Xia Chiyi’s eyes shone brightly, reflecting Zhou Zhexiao’s figure. In his world, everything was pure and beautiful.

“After Sheng Xingming died, Sheng Qiming started managing the charitable foundation his brother left behind. He sponsored many talents to study in the United States and proved to be an excellent manager. Now, he has finally stepped out of Sheng Xingming’s shadow and earned recognition of his own.”

Zhou Zhexiao slowly took his Nokia phone from his pocket and handed it to Xia Chiyi. “You can try calling him, tell him his brother is still alive… Do you think he would be happy, or afraid of losing himself again?”

Xia Chiyi’s heart felt as if pricked by a tiny needle.

“Well… what about the team owner? Since Sheng Xingming’s death, the team’s performance has worsened every year, now completely reduced to a third-rate team. If Sheng Xingming were still alive, the team owner would laugh himself awake in his dreams,” Xia Chiyi said.

Zhou Zhexiao’s expression remained indifferent. “If you told the team owner Sheng Xingming had been reborn, he would helplessly say, ‘Brother, stop joking. We’ve already launched the tenth-anniversary commemorative basketball shoes with a well-known sports brand. Instead of telling me Sheng Xingming is alive, why not pre-order a pair online?’”

The owner of a third-rate team, wanting to keep making money, could only continue to capitalize on Sheng Xingming’s legacy. If Sheng were alive, he would have long retired by now, and his commercial value would have vanished.

Only a deceased legend can command people to pay for nostalgia.

For some reason, the calmer Zhou Zhexiao looked, the more Xia Chiyi’s heart ached.

“Then there are his teammates, especially Mobister! Twelve years ago, Mobister was about to be traded to a terrible team because he wasn’t shining enough. At that time, Sheng Xingming fed him many passes, and he became MVP for three consecutive games. He must always hope Sheng Xingming is still alive!”

Zhou Zhexiao smiled faintly. If he could, he wished Xia Chiyi’s world would remain simple and untouched by the harshness of human nature.

“If it’s the current Mobister, he probably lives without restraint, enjoying the pleasures of alcohol, then drunkenly saying, ‘Sheng Xingming only became a legend because he’s dead. Look at the league now—there are countless guards stronger than him. Do you want me to retire and still live under his shadow?’”

Xia Chiyi clenched his fists. He had seen Mobister’s interviews—arrogant, reckless, and never mentioning Sheng Xingming.

Sometimes, favors are just charity.

The beneficiary might not feel gratitude but rather another heavy burden.

Sheng Xingming is a legend.

One recognized by all as dead, frozen in time, and sealed in history.

Perhaps as Sheng Xingming, he received abundant love; people idolized him as a symbol. But his existence belonged to the past, not the present.

The subway carriage plunged into darkness again, light and shadow blending. Zhou Zhexiao’s profile overlapped with the image of Sheng Xingming in Xia Chiyi’s memory.

Unsure whether to speak to Sheng Xingming or convince Zhou Zhexiao, Xia Chiyi said firmly, “I’m different from ‘them.’”

“How so?” Zhou Zhexiao’s voice was gentle, with a rare smile—subtle and embracing, reminding Xia Chiyi of the person he could never catch up to.

“He was my coach at the youth basketball training camp. When I was little, I told him, ‘Can you wait for me? When I grow up, I want to play on your court, play alongside you.’”

Zhou Zhexiao’s gaze seemed caught by something, twisting suddenly.

“Unless time stops, by the time you step onto his court, he will have retired.”

“But I won’t stop. Whether I’m cut from the provincial team or end up at the hopeless Ningchang University, or my parents tell me to study hard and stop dreaming about basketball—it’s fine. I will keep going. I want to become the best dual-threat guard.”

Xia Chiyi stared out into the pitch-black night, his gaze so resolute it seemed ready to pierce through all chasms and barriers.

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Zhou Zhexiao raised his hand, wanting to touch him, to tell him that path is hard and most cannot reach it.

“Because Sheng Xingming was a dual-threat guard, you want to become him?”

“No. If I become the best dual-threat guard, he can chase his own dream.”

“What dream is that?”

Maybe even Sheng Xingming himself had forgotten.

“—Of course, to be the strongest small forward in the league.”

Zhou Zhexiao paused, then looked back into Xia Chiyi’s eyes. “How… do you know he wanted to play small forward?”

“Just watch his most iconic Finals shot! Sheng Xingming dribbled past two defenders straight to the basket. Facing a double tower block, he scored twice midair with layups. He was proving to everyone he wasn’t just the orchestrator of offense but also the decisive edge in critical moments.”

Though outside was pitch black, Xia Chiyi’s eyes burned with warmth, as if the faded black-and-white world around them had been freshly polished, shining anew.

“I want Sheng Xingming to become an unbreakable blade. If his focus is under the basket, I’ll deliver him straight to the opponent’s throat. When he passes, I’ll be the extension of his vision—always where he needs me, hitting the mark from a hundred paces. We will both become the people we want to be.”

Zhou Zhexiao silently watched him, his chilled blood stirring, swelling into a raging army with no outlet, making his heart ache with pressure.

“Then this time, just keep working hard,” Zhou Zhexiao whispered.

“You mean leave the rest to time?” Xia Chiyi swung his legs, looking over.

“No, leave the rest to me.”

The subway arrived at the station. Doors opened, no passengers boarded or alighted, as if this was a one-way journey just for them.

“Hahaha, I’m already arrogant enough! How are you even more arrogant than me?” Xia Chiyi nudged him several times with his knee.

Zhou Zhexiao smiled faintly. Perhaps now he had found another kind of unstoppable strength.

Terminal T1 arrived; the broadcast announcement pulled them back from their ideal world.

Zhou Zhexiao followed Xia Chiyi to the luggage service desk and showed his ID. After Xia Chiyi helped fill out a form, they finally saw the legendary suitcase.

Pure black, very ordinary, not even decorated with stickers—no wonder it had been taken by mistake.

Most importantly, Zhou Zhexiao had just returned from abroad, and his suitcase was only this small? What could it hold?

Sensing Xia Chiyi’s doubt, Zhou Zhexiao said, “The rest of my things will be packed and sent to school.”

“Oh,” Xia Chiyi nodded.

The service desk asked Zhou Zhexiao to check if anything was missing. Xia Chiyi curiously stood by, wanting to see what was inside.

This guy really was something—he even threw his wallet in the suitcase.

Inside was minimal: a white towel, a sports jacket, plain t-shirts, a few sets of underwear.

It looked like he was just going on an away game and would be home soon.

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“What’s this?” Xia Chiyi pulled out a green, curved neck pillow from the side of the suitcase.

The pillow had rows of triangular spikes, and one end was rounded while the other was thin, like an animal’s tail.

Stretching it out, Xia Chiyi realized it was a little dinosaur.

“Hahaha, you really have a playful side!”

He said this as he wrapped the dinosaur around his neck.

Zhou Zhexiao looked at him for a long while before quietly saying, “It looks good.”

Xia Chiyi had been about to tease him for being childish, but that sincere “It looks good” struck him dumb.

Zhou Zhexiao pushed the suitcase and left. Xia Chiyi hurried after him, afraid this big shot with a dead phone might get lost.

“Hey, slow down! You haven’t put your neck pillow away—”

Zhou Zhexiao showed no intention of packing up the little dinosaur, so Xia Chiyi had to carry it.

The return subway was less lucky—crowded—but luckily both were tall, so holding the overhead handles was easy.

At first, Xia Chiyi felt embarrassed holding the dinosaur, but when the air conditioner at the top blew a cold draft on his neck and carrying it was inconvenient, he finally decided to wear it. Instantly, he drew all eyes.

His handsome face paired with the dinosaur pillow created an adorable contrast. Tall and striking, almost everyone who entered the carriage couldn’t help but steal extra glances. Through the window’s reflection, Xia Chiyi even noticed some pretending to play on their phones but secretly taking photos of him and Zhou Zhexiao.

After sitting bored for three or four stops, Xia Chiyi couldn’t help himself and leaned toward Zhou Zhexiao.

“I just checked Ningchang University’s forum and searched posts about the school basketball team. Want to know what they say?”

“Hm?” Zhou Zhexiao turned his face; Xia Chiyi was very close, his chin buried in the neck pillow, eyes wide and dull.

“Like an old ox pulling a broken cart—the wheels have fallen off; it can’t go on the highway.”

Zhou Zhexiao showed no reaction; Xia Chiyi suspected he didn’t understand the metaphor, so he explained more plainly.

“Apparently, our team lost every game in the Southeast Division group stage, each by twenty or thirty points. Opponents even called up bench players just to gain experience,” Xia Chiyi blinked, hinting, “Reality is harsh.”

“Means the coach is terrible,” Zhou Zhexiao replied.

Xia Chiyi nodded vigorously. “Exactly. Do you know who the coach is? Ma Wenhua! He’s the cousin of Ma Hongming, the provincial team’s head coach! Ma Hongming’s success lifts all boats. Ma Wenhua has no real skill; he rides his cousin’s coattails, passed around provincial colleges like a hot potato as the team coach. Ningchang University is their last stop.”

“So, the Ningchang University team has become a trash bin?” Zhou Zhexiao asked.

“Uh… I guess so…”

“If you can’t throw it away, then just flush it down the toilet,” Zhou Zhexiao said.

Xia Chiyi was stunned. He didn’t know what plans Zhou Zhexiao had or where his confidence came from, but a strong premonition surged in his heart.

—Nothing can block his path forward unless he gives up himself.