Chapter 1 Is this called a sprained ankle that requires care?

In October, Jin City remained scorching, 

yet the atmosphere within the Guqin Club activity room seemed like a different world altogether.

A group of young men and women surrounded a boy playing the guqin.

The boy glowed in the sunlight, his fair complexion striking. 

Dressed in a simple white T-shirt and beige pants, his slightly curly black hair framed his face, 

and his long, thick lashes accentuated his lowered gaze.

He appeared somewhat frail—broad-shouldered but thin, with slender arms as pale as snow. 

On his left wrist, he wore a sandalwood bracelet, and his slim, 

delicate fingers danced over the guqin strings, coaxing out melodious, flowing notes. 

The music was soothing, like a cool stream calming restless hearts.

When the tune ended, the boy lightly pressed the strings with one hand, 

looked up, and gave a modest smile to the surrounding crowd. 

"Sorry for the clumsiness."

"Clumsiness? Huai Xu, you're too modest. We can't even play the piece properly yet, and you can already perform it by heart!"

"Exactly! And in just a few days, too. No wonder you're the guqin prince of Jin University!"

"With you, we'll undoubtedly be the most popular performance at the university's anniversary show."

Huai Xu smiled shyly, saying nothing. 

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

The club president noticed this and kindly said, 

"Since you've already mastered it, if you have urgent matters, go ahead. I'll take over the practice with the others."

"Really?" 

Huai Xu asked, though his hand was already reaching for his bag.

"Of course! Go on." 

The president waved him off.

With a one-shoulder bag, Huai Xu stood up.

He was tall—around 1.8 meters—and his upright posture only accentuated his lean frame.

"I'm heading out, then. My childhood friend twisted his ankle, and I need to check on him," 

he explained apologetically before waving goodbye to everyone and jogging out of the activity room.

The remaining members exchanged puzzled looks.

"Isn't Jing Zhengxuan participating in the intercollegiate basketball tournament? Twisted his ankle?"

"Haven't heard anything. There's a game at our school today, too. 

If he twisted his ankle, it would've been big news by now."

"Maybe it just happened. What a shame—if he doesn't play, our school is doomed."

The group shook their heads and resumed their practice.

Meanwhile, Huai Xu, oblivious to their speculation, jogged toward the school gate.

Jing Zheng xuan, the friend in question, had an apartment off campus.

The two had grown up as neighbors, playing together since childhood. 

They attended the same classes from kindergarten through high school but chose different departments in college.

Born with a frail constitution, Huai Xu was often sick. 

Over time, he developed a strong interest in medicine and enrolled in the clinical medicine program, pursuing a combined bachelor's, master's, and doctoral degree.

Jing Zheng xuan, on the other hand, came from a wealthy business family. 

As the sole heir, he was expected to major in finance and take over the family business after graduation.

Jing Zheng xuan was something of a legend himself.

Standing at 193 cm, he was handsome, muscular, and athletic—a seemingly perfect specimen. 

Yet, despite appearances, he was surprisingly fragile. 

From colds and fevers to minor injuries, he was perpetually accident-prone.

Oddly, he refused to take medicine, insisting that only Huai Xu’s care could make him better.

Huai Xu, unfortunately, had a soft heart.

Having grown up amidst countless illnesses, he deeply empathized with the pain of being unwell and couldn't bear to see those around him suffer.

To make things easier, he eventually invited Jing Zheng xuan to live with him.

Strangely, Jing Zheng xuan’s illnesses always seemed to avoid overlapping with Huai Xu’s.

In truth, Jing Zheng xuan cared for Huai Xu more often.

With poor immunity, a delicate stomach, low blood sugar, and congenital heart disease, 

Huai Xu required careful attention. 

Whenever he fell ill, Jing Zheng xuan would take meticulous care of him, often outdoing even Huai Xu's own mother.

So, whenever Jing Zheng xuan got sick, Huai Xu felt immense guilt, 

convinced he had somehow passed on his bad luck.

Halfway to the gate, Huai Xu's cheeks flushed faintly.

He couldn’t engage in strenuous activity, so his jogging pace remained slow. 

Even then, he was short of breath.

He pulled a piece of fruit candy from his bag’s side pocket and popped it into his mouth—

a precaution Jing Zheng xuan had insisted on to prevent low blood sugar.

Jin University’s campus was vast, 

and reaching the main gate required passing several teaching buildings and an outdoor basketball court.

Adjusting his breathing while sucking on the candy, 

Huai Xu couldn't stop worrying, 

even though Jing Zheng xuan had assured him it wasn’t serious.

As he passed the court, cheers erupted from within, signaling an exciting match.

Though not fond of sports, Huai Xu occasionally paid attention because of Jing Zheng xuan.

Jing Zheng xuan had reportedly joined the university basketball team, 

though his fragility relegated him to the bench—a perennial substitute.

Thinking of him, Huai Xu glanced toward the court.

One look, and his eyes widened in shock.

His so-called injured friend, who needed care for a twisted ankle, 

was currently dazzling the court with an impressive three-step layup.

The crowd’s cheers grew louder, with boys and girls alike applauding enthusiastically.

Huai Xu raised an eyebrow. 

Twisted ankle? 

Care? 

What’s going on here?

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the court and quietly took a seat in a corner of the stands.

Jing Zheng xuan seemed impressive on the court. 

Even with Huai Xu’s limited understanding of basketball, it was clear who the star player was.

After watching for a while, 

Huai Xu confirmed that Jing Zheng xuan’s performance was far beyond a mere substitute’s level.  

What kind of benchwarmer could be the MVP?

A twinge of annoyance bubbled within him. 

Why would Jing Zheng xuan hide this?

Being good at basketball wasn’t some kind of embarrassing secret, 

so why not share it with him?

As he frowned, the chatter of nearby students drifted into his ears.

"Jing Zheng xuan is insane—he came on in the second half and closed a massive point gap all by himself!"

"I knew we'd win the moment he hit the court."

"Don't jinx it. The other team’s from a sports school, and several players are on provincial teams."

"Yeah, but didn’t Jing Zheng xuan almost make the national team back then? He just didn’t want to join."

Huai Xu: "..."

Why did Jing Zheng xuan tell me he was cut from the national team?

With furrowed brows, Huai Xu stared at his most familiar stranger.

After years of knowing each other, 

had he ever truly understood Jing Zheng xuan?

As he stewed, the conversation next to him shifted:

"Hey, isn’t that Huai Xu, Jing Zheng xuan’s childhood friend?"

"Who else could it be? You find another guy at Jin University with that face and aura."

Suddenly the topic of discussion, 

Huai Xu: "..."

Maybe I should pretend I didn’t hear that.

Ignoring the whispers, he continued observing his mysterious childhood friend. 

Meanwhile, the students beside him grew bolder in their commentary.

"He’s never watched one of Jing Zhengxuan’s games before—rare sight!"

"Exactly. For two guys who are practically inseparable, it’s odd that Huai Xu’s never shown up to a game or brought him water."

"Pfft! Water? That’s what girlfriends do!"

"You’re so narrow-minded. Friends can give each other water too."

For some reason, the mention of water made Huai Xu feel thirsty. 

He pulled out his thermos, filled with ginseng tea Jing Zheng xuan had prepared for him that morning.

Just as he took a sip, someone nearby remarked, 

"What if they’re more than friends?"

"CP fans would lose it!"

Huai Xu: "?"

He nearly choked on his tea.

What ‘more than friends’? 

Don’t be ridiculous!

Clearing his throat, he put away the thermos and smiled politely at the chatterers. 

"The game’s pretty exciting, isn’t it?"

Stunned into silence, they quickly shifted away, 

their enthusiasm redirected to the court.

The match reached its climax, with mere seconds remaining. 

The scores were neck and neck, and either team could clinch victory with one more shot.

The opposing sports school team, driven by pride, fought tooth and nail for the last basket.

Meanwhile, the Jin University spectators held their breaths.

Suddenly, Jing Zheng xuan intercepted the ball, dashed to the three-point line, and leapt gracefully.

With a flick of his wrist, the ball sailed through the hoop—three points!

The buzzer sounded, marking the end of the game.

The court erupted in cheers, with confetti flying and the crowd going wild.

“Unbelievable! We won! Jing Zheng xuan is amazing!”

“Jing Zheng xuan! Jing Zheng xuan! Jing Zheng xuan!”

“This is legendary—a true comeback victory!”

Amid the celebration, Jing Zheng xuan’s teammates approached him to celebrate but 

hesitated before settling for high-fives instead of hugs.

They were used to it.

Despite his skill and charisma, 

Jing Zheng xuan’s cold demeanor and piercing gaze kept people at arm’s length. 

In freshman year, someone had tried to pick a fight with him, 

only to be thoroughly humiliated. Since then, he commanded quiet respect.

Watching from the stands, Huai Xu cheered along with the crowd. 

For the first time, he understood the thrill of sports—a passion that could ignite even a bystander.

As his excitement waned, he noticed the MVP—his childhood friend—seated on the bench, 

wiping his sweat before pulling out his phone. 

Moments later, Huai Xu’s phone buzzed.

It was a message from Jing Zheng xuan.

[Jing Zhengxuan]: Done with practice? My ankle’s getting worse.

Huai Xu: "..."

He didn’t reply.

At that moment, several students descended from the stands, 

offering bottles of water to the players. 

Most seemed to focus on Jing Zheng xuan, who appeared increasingly irritated.

“No, thanks,” 

he said coldly, waving off the offerings.

Then a familiar voice broke through: 

“Are you sure you don’t want water?”

Startled, Jing Zheng xuan froze. 

Slowly, he turned to see Huai Xu standing there, 

his long phoenix eyes shimmering with an unreadable emotion.

“Oh, you’re done with practice?” 

Jing Zheng xuan stammered, sweat trickling from his temple.

Smiling serenely, Huai Xu’s voice was as sharp as a blade. 

“Yes, I came to check on your twisted ankle.”

With that, he handed Jing Zheng xuan the thermos. 

“Drink up first.”

Jing Zhengxuan: "..."

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