Chapter Thirty-Four

On the girls’ side, there wasn’t much to discuss. As for the boys, Zhang Yi confirmed that the “Li Li” Huang Feifan mentioned was indeed the same Li Li he had seen at the hospital. Yuxing Yue’s suggestion caught the interest of the other three—it was to play a prank.

That evening, Zhang Yi waited for Li Li’s arrival, leaving the food in its usual spot by the window for her. After about an hour, Li Li entered Zhang Yi’s room, ate the food he had prepared, and then noticed the photo on his computer.

“Where did you get this photo?” Li Li asked nervously, swallowing hard.

“My friend sent it to me,” Zhang Yi replied casually. “He said someone’s been lingering outside his house lately and wanted my advice. He sent me this photo first to help identify the person.” The photo was indeed sent by Huang Feifan, but Zhang Yi had doctored it so Li Li wouldn’t recognize herself. Though her likeness was not immediately apparent, Li Li still broke out in a cold sweat when she saw it.

Zhang Yi employed a feigned indifference, saying, “Why does this person look so familiar? She looks a lot like you.”

At his words, Li Li felt another chill. If he found out the person in the photo was her, she’d be exposed. Forcing herself to stay calm, she replied lightly, “There are plenty of people in the world who look alike. It’s just a coincidence.”

“Is that so? The world really is full of wonders,” Zhang Yi said offhandedly, causing Li Li’s anxiety to spike. Earlier, Yuxing Yue had detailed the prank plan to the group: if Zhang Yi confirmed the suspect, the prank would begin in earnest. The idea was simple—when Li Li visited Zhang Yi, he would display the photo that Huang Feifan had taken on his computer, giving her a scare. Afterward, the others would initiate a group video chat to discuss the matter. Li Li had met Huang Feifan before and now knew he was Zhang Yi’s friend; recognizing him would surely make her uncomfortable enough to leave.

Soon, Yuxing Yue started a video call, with Huang Feifan and Xiao Jian already online; only Zhang Yi was missing. He joined, and the screen filled with the upper bodies of the four friends.

Huang Feifan led off in a stern tone, maintaining an exaggeratedly serious expression, though the corners of his mouth kept twitching upward. He was struggling not to laugh.

Once he’d subdued his grin, Huang Feifan said, “Zhang Yi, what do you think we should do?”

Zhang Yi played along. “I’ve never seen this person before. What do you want me to do? How about this: I’ll come by your place one day to see this person for myself.”

“Don’t forget about us,” Yuxing Yue and Xiao Jian chimed in. The four of them bantered and laughed, but behind Zhang Yi, Li Li’s face had gone pale. Seeing Huang Feifan on the screen confirmed her worst suspicions—he was indeed Zhang Yi’s friend. Now Zhang Yi was so close to him, if he ever found out Li Li had been lurking outside Huang Feifan’s home, her cover would be blown.

“What do you think this person’s coming to my place for? It’s been years—why show up now for something left behind?” Huang Feifan complained about Li Li’s behavior outside his door.

“Who knows? Let’s just wait and see. Oh, Zhang Yi, who’s that behind you?” Yuxing Yue asked suddenly.

As Zhang Yi turned to respond, he heard a stumbling noise. He stood up to check, but Li Li had already made her escape, unwilling to be discovered. Once Zhang Yi was sure she wouldn’t return, he sat down in front of the computer and burst into laughter. “Hahaha, that was damn exhilarating.”

The three on screen laughed just as heartily. In fact, they’d already noticed Li Li behind Zhang Yi, but had pretended not to see her, keeping up the act. When Yuxing Yue pointed her out, the prank was over. It wasn’t much of a trick, but Li Li’s panicked expression was truly hilarious. Huang Feifan, with impressive speed, captured that very moment on his screen.

He shared the screenshot with the others. “Good thing I’m quick on the trigger. Not bad, huh?”

“I’m so jealous of your reflexes; the three of us are hopeless,” Yuxing Yue joked with a wry smile.

“This is just too funny—I can’t stop laughing,” Xiao Jian managed between fits of laughter, his laughter drowning out everyone else.

Zhang Yi spun a pen between his fingers. “So, what’s next, Xing Yue?”

Taking a sip of water, Xing Yue replied unhurriedly, “Now we just lie in wait for the rabbit to return. The three of us will go to Huang Feifan’s place. Feifan, that alright with you?”

“No problem. I’ve had enough of her anyway.”

“Just, could you all go easy on her? I’m afraid her injuries aren’t fully healed, and we can’t afford the medical bills,” Zhang Yi suggested, a hint of concern in his voice.

Yuxing Yue laughed. “Who said anything about getting physical? We’re gentlemen—our words will do the work.”

“So, what exactly are you planning?” Zhang Yi pressed.

“Listen closely, all we need to do is…” Her words trailed off, keeping the plan secret.

After Yuxing Yue finished explaining, the three nodded eagerly. It was a brilliant idea—no one but her could have come up with something so clever.

…

Due to the pandemic, Lin Zimo couldn’t leave home, much like Yuxing Yue and the others, so they chatted via video call. All but Yu Li showed up.

On screen, Wang Tianqi took a sip of coffee, set down her cup, and sighed, “When will this pandemic end? I’m going to rot if I stay home any longer.”

Chen Siyu replied, “Just hang in there—a few more months and maybe it’ll all be over.”

“I hope so. I can’t wait to see everyone again,” Lin Zimo said, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Let’s play a mobile game together, face to face,” Chen Siyu suggested.

“What game? Let me see,” Wang Tianqi asked, intrigued.

Chen Siyu introduced her favorite mobile game, something she’d wanted to share but hadn’t had the chance to until now.

The game was called “Hand Speed.” Each player took on a character and joined a “paper ball war”—in essence, a game where you throw virtual paper balls at each other, seeing how many times you can hit your opponent in one minute. It all depended on how fast you could tap.

“A game of reflexes? I’m up for the challenge,” Lin Zimo said, eager.

“Sounds tricky, but I’m confident in my hand speed,” Wang Tianqi agreed.

“We’ll see. Let’s see who’s faster! I’ll create a room and invite you both,” Chen Siyu said.

She sent the app to Lin Zimo and Wang Tianqi, who each registered accounts. Chen Siyu explained it was a mobile game, and once they were in, she invited them to her room after they shared their usernames.

“‘Ink Wash Lin’ and ‘Queen Red’—those are decent names,” Chen Siyu commented. Ink Wash Lin was Lin Zimo, Queen Red was Wang Tianqi, and Chen Siyu’s own handle was simply six asterisks.

“You’re so casual with your username. Are you that casual in real life?” Lin Zimo teased.

“I’m only casual in games. If I were that laid-back in life, it’d be a mess. Life isn’t meant to be muddled through, but enjoyed,” Chen Siyu replied.

“Are we going to play or not? I’m getting antsy!” Wang Tianqi urged.

“Don’t rush, don’t rush. Look at you, all worked up,” Chen Siyu said, starting the game.

In the first round, Chen Siyu won; Lin Zimo and Wang Tianqi were still getting the hang of it. The second and third rounds served as warm-ups.

“Now you both know how it works, right?” Chen Siyu asked.

“Yep, after a few rounds we’re set,” Wang Tianqi replied happily.

“This game is so much fun. Why didn’t I find it sooner?” Lin Zimo was equally delighted.

“Games are about having fun—let’s keep going!” The fourth round began in earnest. Now that Lin Zimo and Wang Tianqi were familiar with the rules, they started catching up, even overtaking Chen Siyu’s score at times. Not to be outdone, Chen Siyu rallied, pulling ahead again just as they were about to tie.

“Siyu, are your hands possessed? How can you be so fast?” Wang Tianqi complained, noticing that Chen Siyu’s expression didn’t change even with all the action—she didn’t show the slightest fatigue.

“If nothing else, at least my hands are quick. Feels good,” Chen Siyu laughed.

“No wonder you’re never the fastest in taekwondo drills—it’s your legs that let you down,” Lin Zimo joked.

“Who said my legs are useless?” Chen Siyu protested.

“Hehe, I’m catching up, Siyu,” Wang Tianqi threatened playfully.

“As if I’d let you!”

Ten minutes later, after much back-and-forth, Chen Siyu emerged as the winner, with Lin Zimo in second and Wang Tianqi in last place.

“Ah! Chen Siyu, how many years of singlehood did it take to get hands that fast?” Wang Tianqi exclaimed, half convinced Chen Siyu was superhuman.

“It’s not about being single. Anyone can build up speed with enough practice,” Chen Siyu replied.

“But our taekwondo training is all about the legs. What’s that got to do with hands?” Lin Zimo asked honestly.

Chen Siyu was momentarily stumped, but quickly recovered. “That’s beside the point. The point is my win rate just went up by one percent.”

“If we’re talking about hand speed, no one beats Chen Siyu—she’s the fastest in the Tianyuan team.”

…

After the video chat ended, Huang Feifan lay in bed, killing time on his phone. There was nothing interesting on his computer, so he scrolled through videos instead.

The moment he unlocked his phone, he saw ten unread messages from Chen Siyu. He worried something might have happened and hurriedly checked QQ, only to find she just wanted to chat.

The game with Lin Zimo and Wang Tianqi had just ended, and Chen Siyu was waiting patiently for Huang Feifan’s reply.

He wrote back, “What’s up, Sis?”