Be Passionately In Love

If it weren't for his ears turning so red they seemed about to drip blood, Xu Zhi would have thought nothing was amiss when she looked down at his cool, composed face and those clear, distinct eyes. He still wore that same shamelessly handsome, devil-may-care expression.

"There's a jasmine petal on your lips," Xu Zhi said as she leaned in, cupping his face.

Chen Luzhou didn't respond. His gaze drifted lazily, settling on her lips—small, delicate, and well-defined like lush rose petals. They looked so soft he could almost imagine their texture without even kissing them. It reminded him of when Zhu Yangqi dated a girl from the art class during their second year of high school. That very night, they'd kissed, and Zhu Yangqi had chattered excitedly the whole way home about how a girl's lips were as soft as cotton candy, sweet and tender, no matter how tough her heart might be. When Chen Luzhou asked if he really liked her, Zhu Yangqi admitted he was mostly just curious—curious about what kissing felt like.

He figured Xu Zhi was the same. She'd probably even discussed it with Cai Yingying—what it was like to kiss a boy. Her curiosity had always been excessive.

Chen Luzhou had never kissed anyone before. So only he knew just how wildly his heart was pounding now, each beat fierce and thrilling against the hollow expanse of his chest, echoing with an intensity he'd never felt before.

Part of him considered giving in—letting it happen, even if just a fleeting brush of lips. He'd always thought of himself as a romantic, someone who cared about atmosphere. But now, idealism seemed to have the upper hand. So he tilted his head slightly, avoiding her.

Chen Luzhou didn't look at her, nor did he push her away. His hand still rested lightly against the small of her back as she hovered over him, her warm breath ghosting over his skin. His gaze drifted aside uncomfortably. "It's raining."

Xu Zhi looked up. Sure enough, rain had begun to fall—fat droplets pelting down. One landed abruptly on her lips, the sudden chill making her instinctively lower her head. The plump raindrop burst against her mouth, scattering with the warmth of her skin onto his pale, clean cheek.

Well.

That counted as a kiss, didn't it?

Xu Zhi let out an "Oh" and quickly pulled away. More people were gathering near the restrooms, likely preparing to leave. She walked back in silence, while Chen Luzhou watched her tall, slender figure from behind, hands in pockets as he ambled after her. Then Yang Yijing appeared, heading straight for him.

"Lu Cao, can I add you on WeChat?"

Chen Luzhou gave a vague hum and stopped to pull out his phone, letting Yang Yijing scan his QR code. By the time he looked up again, Xu Zhi had already boarded the bus with the others.

That night, Yang Yijing posted a nine-photo grid on his Moments, thanking the TV station for their hospitality:

Yang Yijing: "Had a great time meeting so many friends today! Big thanks to all the staff for taking such good care of us—the recording was super fun. Watching all these top students chat was fascinating. Also, got to know an incredibly nice and ridiculously handsome guy—Chen Lu Zhou. I’ve heard so much about him, and he totally lives up to the hype: scoring 713 on the gaokao without any bonus points. The ‘Immortal Grass’ of City No. 1 High School is the real deal."

Xu Zhi probably liked the post without even reading it. But when she reached the part about Chen Luzhou, she unliked it. Coincidentally, Chen Luzhou happened to be scrolling through his feed at that exact moment—watching as the like appeared, then vanished.Chen Luzhou sighed; he had managed to offend her after all.

They hadn’t seen each other for a while since that night. Later, Chen Luzhou thought about it—his interactions with Xu Zhi were few and far between. If he didn’t actively seek her out, chances of bumping into her were slim.

So one day, while playing basketball with Zhu Yangqi, the entire court was filled with shirtless, sweaty guys who didn’t care much about their appearance. Only Chen Luzhou wore a white T-shirt under his red jersey, a black headband holding back his tousled hair and revealing his lean, sinewy arms. Sitting on the mat beneath the hoop, he absentmindedly changed his shoes and casually asked Zhu Yangqi, “Haven’t you been in touch with Cai Yingying lately?”

Zhu Yangqi was warming up, dribbling the ball with loud thuds before executing a leisurely layup on the empty court. “Didn’t Xu Zhi tell you?” he finally replied. “Cai Yingying went on a trip with her.”

Chen Luzhou finished tying his shoes and stood up, stretching his legs nonchalantly. “Where to?”

Zhu Yangqi gave him a strange look. “Changbai Mountain. They said they wanted to see Tianchi. But even if Xu Zhi didn’t tell you she was traveling, you could’ve seen it on her Moments, right? She just posted photos of Tianchi yesterday. That’s not something everyone gets to see.”

Chen Luzhou bent down to pick up his phone from the mat and opened WeChat. There was nothing—just an empty void. Friends can only see posts from the last three days.

Well, he’d been dragged out again.

Zhu Yangqi leaned over just in time to see the barren Moments feed. “Weird,” he muttered. “Did she delete it?” He immediately pulled out his own phone to check. “It’s still there,” he said, surprised. “Damn, she blocked you? Did you two fight?”

Chen Luzhou couldn’t be bothered to explain—not that he could, anyway. Was he supposed to say she got mad because he wouldn’t let her kiss him? So he just gave a vague “Mhm,” then took Zhu Yangqi’s phone and scrolled through Xu Zhi’s nine-grid photo post. That’s when he noticed Tan Xu was also there. No wonder he hadn’t heard any noise from upstairs lately. Seeing Chen Luzhou’s indifferent expression and the cold tension in his jaw, Zhu Yangqi quickly explained, “I asked—it’s their class graduation trip.”

Chen Luzhou let out an “Oh.” “Did Feng Jin sneak into their class too?”

“That dog just happened to want to go. The moment he heard their class was heading to Changbai Mountain, he shamelessly offered to be their free photographer. Cai Yingying didn’t hesitate to add him to the group chat. Photographers are in high demand these days, you know. If you hadn’t fought with her, you’d probably be the one tagging along this time.”

“Yeah, right. Like this is some kind of cushy job. I’d have to scrub myself clean just to compete for the position.” Chen Luzhou’s tone was dripping with sarcasm as he slapped the phone back against Zhu Yangqi’s chest.

Did I say anything about scrubbing clean? Zhu Yangqi frowned in confusion before hurriedly catching the phone against his chest. “Why do I smell something sour?”

“Piss off.”

Chen Luzhou lazily tossed the word over his shoulder as he walked onto the court to warm up. He picked up the ball, dribbled it a couple of times, then casually shot a three-pointer. Swish. It went in effortlessly. He didn’t move, just stood coldly outside the three-point line, watching as if he’d known it would go in, waiting for Zhu Yangqi—who was closer to the hoop—to retrieve the ball. There was something almost detached in his demeanor as he said,

“Just a photographer. Like I said, she can date whoever she wants.”Though he said that, Young Master Chen still played with a bit of temper on the court. Jiang Cheng, who arrived late in the second half, noticed Chen Luzhou was playing more aggressively than ever before. While Chen had always carried an air of arrogance due to his looks and presence, he was usually easygoing—getting bumped into wouldn’t even warrant a word from him. Today, though he didn’t say much, he couldn’t resist a sarcastic jab: "Bro, if your eyesight’s that bad, maybe you should hit up the hospital for some glasses? That’s the third time you’ve stepped on me—getting addicted or what?"

They didn’t know the guy, but he was a regular on the court. Pickup games were like that—if you couldn’t round up enough players, you’d just team up with whoever was around. Sometimes you’d hit it off and become friends; other times, one game was enough to know you’d never play together again. With a bunch of hot-blooded young guys, clashes were practically routine. But Chen Luzhou had never been the type to stir trouble.

So when Jiang Cheng heard him, he shot Zhu Yangqi a surprised look, silently mouthing, "Did he swallow gunpowder or something?"

Zhu Yangqi shook his head helplessly, searching for a tactful explanation. It was probably like opening a cup of instant noodles only to find someone had taken the noodles and left him with just the seasoning packet.

"That’s some bad luck," Jiang Cheng said sympathetically.

But Chen Luzhou really was unlucky—he’d run into a troublemaker. The guy wasn’t the easygoing type either. During the game, probably outnumbered, he’d kept quiet. But afterward, he suddenly called over a few buddies and surrounded Chen Luzhou without a word.

Usually, when Chen found himself in situations like this, it was because someone wanted to ask him about a problem or check answers. So at first, he didn’t get it. But the overly aggressive looks on those tough guys’ faces finally clued him in—oh, they were here for a fight.

Fighting was right up Zhu Yangqi and Jiang Cheng’s alley. This court was relatively rowdy, frequented not just by students but also health-conscious older guys who loved working out—a mixed bag. Fights broke out almost daily, and the local police station had to drop by every few days. One wrong word, and fists would fly. If it weren’t for their usual court at No. 1 High being closed, Chen Luzhou and the others wouldn’t even be here.

The group moved with practiced coordination, their eyes icy. The ringleader stepped forward, ready to settle the score: "So, bro, you’re the one who wanted me to see an eye doctor, huh?"

Usually, minor court disputes ended once the game did—swap out the jerseys, and you’d never recognize each other again.

But Chen Luzhou sighed inwardly. This was the downside of being good-looking—even with a jacket on, he was instantly recognizable.

He figured talking his way out of this was a lost cause. Maybe he should get a tattoo next time—something like "I’m Dragon Bro’s guy"—to scare off these types. But for now, it looked like he was in for a beating.

If he just told them not to hit his face, would they go easier on him?

Zhu Yangqi knew exactly what he was thinking. Chen Luzhou hated trouble—if words could solve it, he’d never throw a punch. Plus, he was a total wimp about pain. As a kid, he’d howled for ages after a vaccine shot.

"Guess so," Chen Luzhou said leisurely. "Probably closed by now. You’ll have to go for emergency.""Cut the bullshit. Can't handle a little contact during the game? Fucking delicate. Dressed all fancy—must be rolling in cash, huh? Think we're scared to hit you?"

Zhu Yangqi and Jiang Cheng were just about to say forget the talk, let's fight if we're gonna fight. But Chen Luzhou, not wanting to deal with the aftermath, half-heartedly tried to mediate—

"How about this—let me walk you through the procedure. If you hit me, my mom will definitely call the cops. She’ll probably even make a news segment out of it. Not for any particular reason, just that she’s a TV producer. She never passes up a chance to create news, especially since I’m this year’s top college entrance exam scorer."

Pretty shameless, calling himself the top scorer.

Zhu Yangqi: "..."

Jiang Cheng: "..."

A top scorer is still a title, right? Chen Luzhou figured. Since Teacher Jiang gave him the label, he might as well wear it.

The other side hesitated, the tension instantly deflating. Eyes darted around, testing the waters. If only Zhu Yangqi hadn’t gotten carried away and smugly added, "If you don’t mind the trouble, want me to call your ‘Brother Long’ for you?"

The "Brother Long" persona had worked once before, scaring off some punks, and Zhu Yangqi had been riding that high ever since. But this time, it backfired—because Jiang Cheng had forgotten to tell him that after the last time Zhu Yangqi used the name and got exposed, Brother Long had lost all street cred.

So the moment "Brother Long" was mentioned, the other side instantly realized—these were the idiots who’d been running around scamming people under their boss’s name. Perfect. Old scores and new grudges settled at once. For all they knew, this "top scorer" was just another lie. Without another word, they charged, swinging left and right.

Chaos erupted. Chen Luzhou didn’t dodge in time, taking a solid punch to the jaw. He hissed in pain, about to say, "The fuck? No ‘ready, set, go’ in a fight?"

Then suddenly, someone grabbed him from behind, locking arms around his waist, trying to pin his hands so their buddy could go for his stomach. Good thing he had abs. But he was quick, tall, with lean muscle—built to last. The punk behind him couldn’t hold him down. They hadn’t expected him to be this tough—skinny but strong. That’s youth for you. No smoking, no drinking. Even at his height, he moved light on his feet, fists sharp and clean. His blood ran fresh and hot, not weighed down by flabby excess or nameless tumors lurking in his organs. Every punch carried its own kind of ache.

That’s the difference between a grown man and a kid.

Chen Luzhou held back, afraid he’d give someone a fatty liver. Even as a punk, where was the professionalism? How do you have a beer belly in this line of work?

**

That night, on the train back, Xu Zhi scrolled through her feed and saw Zhu Yangqi’s gloating post.

Zhu Yangqi: "Congrats to Young Master Chen on his first step into adulthood—first fight achievement unlocked."

Below was a photo—someone’s arm, slender but fierce, veins bulging cold and sharp from the fight. The fingers were long, knuckles defined.Xu Zhi recognized it at a glance—it was Chen Luzhou's hand, because on the ring finger of his left hand was the ring she had drawn.

She had seen those hands just days ago, clean and pale like the lofty ridges of a verdant mountain, untouchable to anyone.

Below the post, Chen Luzhou had replied.

NakedMan713: "Can't you post your own hand? Stop riding my clout."

Zhu Yangqi replied to NakedMan713: "Chill the fuck out, I haven't even posted your abs pic yet."

Xu Zhi replied to Zhu Yangqi: "Anything less than eight-pack doesn't count as abs."

A short while later, the train carriage grew noisy. Xu Zhi noticed her phone light up with a WeChat notification before she could open it. Cai Yingying, sitting beside her, mistook it for her own phone and tapped the screen—instantly revealing the message:

NakedMan713: "Eight-pack abs. Photos available for viewing. 250 per pic."

Only then did Cai Yingying realize it wasn’t her phone. She stared at Xu Zhi in shock before whispering, "Is this the going rate now? Are abs pics really that profitable? But isn’t hiring a male escort kinda shady? Maybe you could introduce me to one too?"

Xu Zhi: "Not this one. This one’s too delicate—won’t even let anyone touch him."

Author’s Note: The next day, Cai Yingying said to Zhu Yangqi: "Do you know how much male escorts charge now? 250 just to see an abs pic."

Zhu Yangqi immediately parroted to Chen Luzhou: "Some guys will do anything for money these days, even becoming male escorts—250 just to show off their abs..."

Chen Luzhou: "What the hell did you save my contact as?"

Xu Zhi: "..."