BTO CH13

Across the internet cafe’s fifty or sixty terminals, aside from a small scattering of students, the room was packed with street-hardened regulars chain-smoking while glued to their screens.

This new group wasn’t old at all. Though they tried to dress like grown adults, they had clearly hit the same salon together to bleach their hair a brassy yellow, draped in matching silver chains—at most, they were high school sophomores.

That opening roar carried immense force, vibrating with undisguised outrage. Amid the cafe’s deafening bedlam of screen addicts screaming “Fuck, heal me!” and “Pop your ultimate, now!”, the cry sliced right through the noise.

Anyone listening would assume Shao Zhan had done something unforgivable to them.

The “big bro” brought along for muscle asked, “You positive it’s him?”

“A hundred percent! Can’t mistake it—he wore the exact same clothes that day, this black tee with stripes on it!”

The punk by the door was breathing heavily from sheer fury. Taking a beat to steady himself, he snarled, “I’ll put it right here: we’re not done today!”

Shao Zhan: “…”

The guy barked again, “Get out here!”

Shao Zhan was seated in the corner of the back row next to a window shielded by a heavy black curtain. According to Zhang Feng, this was “Xu Sheng’s” regular spot for simple reasons: the window offered a crack of fresh air in a room choking on cigarette smoke, and since Xu Sheng hated sitting properly, the adjoining wall let him lean back whenever he needed a breather.

By pure coincidence, the clothes Xu Sheng had tossed him last night happened to be the exact graphic black tee he had worn on that trip to the cafe.

Having thrown down the gauntlet, the gang watched the figure behind the corner monitor stir. The teenager’s expression was frozen over. Truth be told, alongside the identical outfit, his striking features were the real reason they had picked him out of the crowded floor so instantly. The chill between his brows seemed intensified by the black shirt. Looking faintly irritated by the racket, he released his grip on the mouse.

Shao Zhan looked down at his phone and typed out the remaining three words.

• Get over here.

He followed it up immediately.

• I’m at the internet cafe.
• A bunch of bleached-blonde punks are looking for you.

None of the bizarre twists he had encountered since the body swap compared to what was unfolding right now.

He had been dragged into a net cafe by an entourage.

And before he had even been seated for two minutes, a gang had kicked the door open, pointing fingers and shouting that they weren’t done with him.

When they had reviewed basic habits this morning, Xu Sheng had indeed mentioned hitting the net cafe with Zhang Feng after school: “Classes basically boil down to those points. If you don’t want to stand for punishment, just zone out over your textbook. Oh, Zhang Feng might look for you…”

Xu Sheng had even given a rundown of his preferred gaming champions and their playstyles: “…I’m pretty cracked at games, so I suggest you practice a bit in advance.”

Shao Zhan had been forced to memorize his gaming preferences, but he was dead certain Xu Sheng had never mentioned having enemies at the cafe.

Zhang Feng and Xu Sheng’s crew from freshman year were equally bewildered: “What’s going on here?”

Shao Zhan paused for two seconds, sending out one last line.

• If you aren’t here in three minutes, deal with the fallout yourself.

However, “S” hadn’t checked his phone; none of Shao Zhan’s messages received a reply.

Little did he know, Xu Sheng was currently standing in the teachers’ office listening to Meng Guowei tear into him: “This Xu Sheng didn’t hand in his homework again.”

Meng Guowei had called him over to distribute the graded assignments, but couldn’t resist venting: “Tell me, what goes through his head every single day? Does he want to take the college entrance exams or not? Life is long—what is he going to do with his future?”

Listening to a teacher rip into him from this perspective felt bizarre.

And why was it that whether he was Xu Sheng or Shao Zhan, he couldn’t dodge this exact lecture?

Xu Sheng couldn’t tell what kind of curse this was. He remarked casually, “He… he probably has his own plans.”

“He has shit for plans!”

“…”

“I called his mother yesterday,” Meng Guowei’s voice lowered, sounding puzzled. “It was strange. She only asked if Xu Sheng had been staying on campus and whether he was doing anything unrelated to studying.”

Meng Guowei rarely called parents; dragging school trouble into family life usually made things harder to resolve. Unless a student crossed a major line, he avoided calling home.

When the call connected, Xu Sheng’s mother had sounded busy with work, answering with a crisp, polite: “Hello?”

“Ah, hello. I’m Xu Sheng’s homeroom teacher.”

After a two-second pause, the noisy background noise shifted to a quieter space: “Hello, Teacher.”

Meng Guowei’s takeaway from “anything unrelated to studying” was clearly different from hers: “He hasn’t done anything related to studying—he’s either spacing out or asleep.”

Hearing this, Xu Sheng’s mother had seemed relieved instead, asking no further questions.

Remembering this, Meng Guowei waved a hand: “Never mind, drop it. Just try to help him as much as you can.”

Xu Sheng kept his eyes down without answering. Only when Meng Guowei called him a second time did the corners of his mouth twitch into a faint, distant smile: “Understood.”

Meng Guowei sensed something off in “Shao Zhan’s” mood, but before he could unpack it, Xu Sheng spoke again: “Sir, if there’s nothing else, I’ll head out.”

Xu Sheng hadn’t had the time to check his phone earlier, and now he lacked the mood.

Exiting the office, he finished handing out the assignments. The corridor was remarkably empty, with nobody left except the duty students on cleaning shift.

Not wanting to head back to the dorms just yet, he turned the corner outside the classroom and sat down on the stair landing.

The spot was nice and drafty.

Sitting by the vent with the cool breeze fluttering the fabric of his uniform, he finally pulled out his phone.

Four unread messages.

Shao Zhan.

Xu Sheng couldn’t imagine what could have happened. Tapping into the chat, whatever lingering thoughts he had evaporated in a flash. He shot to his feet, a single syllable exploding in his mind: Fuck?

Internet cafe. Bleached hair.

Piecing the clues together, this went back to the day the assessment scores were posted. After Zhang Feng left, Xu Sheng had bought a pack of mints to get some fresh air and casually handled a few punks on the way.

It was supposed to be an easy fix—hardly an event worth mentioning—but Xu Sheng recalled the specifics of how he had “handled” them…

Typing frantically, Xu Sheng bolted down the stairs.

Panic threw off his rhythm; typing faster only made him misspell words repeatedly.

S: Fuck.

S: It’s complicated, but it’s not what you think. I can’t explain it quickly.

S: Keep things stable, I’m heading over right now.

Given the urgency, talking was pointless. Xu Sheng fired off a final, practical piece of advice: Find an opening to bolt. If there isn’t one, make one.

Shao Zhan obviously never saw this friendly tip.

He was currently leaning back in his cafe chair. A warm summer breeze drifted through the slit of the cracked window, while five young men crowded around him.

The tension was razor-sharp.

Yet Shao Zhan’s side held ground; their group had plenty of heads. Zhang Feng stepped forward first, talking big: “Five on five, who says we’d lose?”

Shao Zhan sat quietly in the corner.

Even in silence, his presence felt like an open provocation to the opposing crew. The teenager’s expression was utter disdain; he even took his time shutting down his PC, as if the spectacle before him had nothing to do with him.

Shao Zhan wanted nothing to do with it, but the momentum of the room gave him no choice.

Seeing Zhang Feng hyping up the conflict, he decided to figure out what was happening first.

Powering down the rig, Shao Zhan mustered some patience: “Do you know what this is about?”

Zhang Feng stated, “No clue. But I know one thing: we might lose the fight, but never our pride! Speaking of which, don’t you know what’s going on?”

Remembering Xu Sheng’s reputation as the school tyrant and the rumors of him “taking on five at once,” Shao Zhan said flatly, “Pissed off too many people. Forgot.”

“…” Zhang Feng offered genuine admiration: “Hardcore.”

The moment the words landed, the hired “big bro” exploded: “You’re pretty cocky, kid!” Reaching out, he aimed straight for Shao Zhan’s collar to drag him out—

Shao Zhan, who had looked utterly uninterested in making eye contact, cast his eyes down. Before the hand touched his shirt, he caught the guy’s wrist in a vise grip, twisting down with enough force to lock him completely in place.

Only when he stood up did Shao Zhan release his hold. His opponent staggered back half a step, losing his footing. Raising his eyes, Shao Zhan slipped off the headphones draped around his neck: “Take it outside.”

Zhang Feng moved to follow, but Shao Zhan shoved him back into his seat: “Stay here.”

He still didn’t know the full story; adding more people would make the scene impossible to control.

Besides, he was Xu Sheng right now.

Zhang Feng: “We… stay? Do what?”

Pondering for two seconds, Zhang Feng saw the light: “Got it. Wait for your signal before we charge, right?”

Shao Zhan: “Stay and play games.”

Zhang Feng: “…”

Crash.

Zhang Feng watched “Xu Sheng” push open the door and step out. In his eyes, the sight of Xu Sheng walking out to solo five opponents was the absolute pinnacle of cool, collected badassery.

It matched the legends of Xu Sheng down to the letter.

Minutes ticked by.

Zhang Feng was on pins and needles.

His impression of Xu Sheng was largely built on hearsay. Xu Sheng had never dragged them into brawls; trips to the net cafe were always peaceful and chill.

He had no real measure of Xu Sheng’s fighting ability. No matter how tough he was, taking on five people at once was insane—even if the legend said he could take on five, there was no guarantee he’d win this time.

The more Zhang Feng stewed, the more anxious he became.

What was going on out there? Did he need backup?

His earlier bravado was just typical hotheaded bluster. Once the adrenaline faded, charging into the fray became terrifying.

Gaming was out of the question now. It took him ages of agonizing to talk himself into it: I have to be brave! Dig deep! For my best bro, I’m charging out right now!

Zhang Feng shot to his feet, scanning his surroundings before grabbing a worn broom from the corner in a death grip. Taking a deep breath, he told the others, “Keep playing, I’m going out to check.”

Xu Sheng had never sprinted this fast in his life.

The only sounds in his ears were his racing pulse and the rush of wind.

He had no idea what state Shao Zhan was in, or whether his advice to run had yielded any results.

Fortunately, the distance between the school and the internet cafe was short. A roadside convenience store had just received a shipment, leaving crates blocking the entrance of the narrow alley; Xu Sheng planted one hand and vaulted right over them. Rounding the corner, he finally spotted the shop below the net cafe and charged up the exterior stairwell.

Halfway up, the cafe’s glass door slammed with an echoing crash!

Taking the remaining steps three at a time, Xu Sheng rounded the landing just in time to see Zhang Feng burst through the door, eyes shut tight and brandishing a broom like a brave soldier charging the frontlines. Zhang Feng bellowed: “Hands off my brother—!”

Xu Sheng: “…”

Gripping the handrail, Xu Sheng froze on the landing.

Beyond Zhang Feng, the first thing in plain view was the crew of five bleached-blonde punks curled on the floor, groaning in pain.

Zhang Feng realized something was off mid-charge. Mainly because after kicking the door open, he heard no sounds of combat. Cracking his eyes open, there was no five-on-one brawl in sight; nobody was throwing punches: “Where… where are they?”

The stairwell was poorly lit, with junk piles blocking most of the incoming light.

Until the figure of “Xu Sheng” perched atop the crates shifted. Half his silhouette was swallowed by the shadows, his long legs resting against the floor. Xu Sheng’s features, usually tipped upward with an effortless smirk, were utterly devoid of warmth, radiating an suffocating, terrifying pressure. With his head tipped slightly down, only the clean line of his straight nose bridge and the bangs falling across his brow remained visible.