BTO CH30

The school field at Sixth High was liveliest after school. Sometimes, boys wouldn’t even bother eating dinner, swarming the basketball courts to claim a spot. Xu Sheng occasionally went to play ball, but his function extended beyond just playing. Whenever this lord pushed open the chain-link gate leading a pack of boys, lazily strolling in with a bottle of water, no one in the entire school dared to fight him for a hoop.

Xu Sheng made an appearance on the field, sitting with one leg bent on the edge of the planter box. Watching Zhang Feng miss a layup with highly amateurish three-step technique, he joined the crowd in booing twice.

Watching Zhang Feng and the others jump around the court wasn’t particularly interesting.

Xu Sheng cast his gaze further out, past the bustling crowd, to the road across from the basketball courts leading toward the boys’ dormitories. A teenager in a school uniform, carrying a backpack on one shoulder and with a single earbud in his ear, was walking toward the bus stop.

Xu Sheng thought to himself: Out of all the people wearing school uniforms in the whole school, my desk mate is the only one who wears it in a way that makes him instantly recognizable.

The English recitation playing in Shao Zhan’s earbud paused for two seconds, followed by a crisp notification chime.

He slid his phone screen open.

S: I see you. S: I’m on the field, turn around.

Shao Zhan stopped in his tracks. Normally, he would have immediately expressed six words through his actions: “Do I look like I care?” On top of that, having lived as Xu Sheng and bearing the title of school tyrant, past memories and people from long ago had abruptly rushed back to engulf him.

The message had appeared far too unexpectedly.

Even though Xu Sheng hadn’t probed further and had tactfully changed the subject, Xu Sheng was sometimes sharper than he imagined. That sharpness came from observing people—a stark contrast to the casual nonchalance he displayed on the surface.

Yet, the words “turn around” seemed to possess a strange magic. Shao Zhan looked up and cast his gaze over.

Summer days were long and nights short. The sun hadn’t yet begun to set, its rays still scorching.

Sitting there, Xu Sheng looked even more conspicuous than the guys playing basketball.

He held a water bottle, the hem of his shirt fluttering in the wind. Normally unnoticeable in the classroom, the stud earring in his ear caught the light and gleamed—Seeing Shao Zhan turn around, Xu Sheng smiled and waved at him from across the distance.

S: See you next week.

Shao Zhan reminded him: Scores come out next week.

S: …

Xu Sheng was just about to reply.

Zhang Feng stepped off the court, using the hem of his uniform to wipe his sweat: “Did that girl opposite us look at me just now?”

Xu Sheng snapped out of it: “What girl?”

“Didn’t I just ask you to keep an eye out for me?” Zhang Feng was anxious. “The one on the opposite field, with the two braids. She was in the class next to ours in freshman year. You don’t care about your bro’s lifelong happiness at all.”

“You chase way too many girls, how am I supposed to remember every single one?” Xu Sheng didn’t dare admit he’d been too busy staring at his desk mate and had completely forgotten. “With a layup like that, you’d better pray to the heavens she wasn’t looking at you.”

Zhang Feng choked, then realized that the direction Xu Sheng had been looking in was clearly off. Following his gaze: “Wait a minute, what were you looking at?”

“…” Holding his water bottle, Xu Sheng said, “Nothing.”

“Nothing? You…”

Halfway through his sentence, Zhang Feng also spotted the uniform: “Study God?”

Xu Sheng unscrewed his bottle and tilted his head back for a drink, intending to gloss over the topic. However, Zhang Feng sat down next to him, seeming to remember something, and patted Xu Sheng on the shoulder with a grave expression: “Speaking of the Study God, I haven’t had the nerve to ask you about that incident last time, and later I realized I really couldn’t bring myself to ask…”

The pat startled Xu Sheng.

A man’s sixth sense told him this was almost certainly a side effect of the body swap, tied to the chaotic stunts he had pulled earlier.

Sure enough, Zhang Feng said: “It’s about that Tieba thing. You must have felt it too, right? I think the Study God likes you.”

The explosive power of this sentence rivaled yesterday’s thunderclap. Xu Sheng nearly spat out his water.

Xu Sheng struggled to force the words out: “You think… what?”

Zhang Feng: “Isn’t it obvious enough? The Study God, a guy who basically never uses Tieba, wrote a five-hundred-word essay for you! ‘Peach-blossom mesmerizing eyes’—don’t give me any bullshit about his account being hacked. Other people might not know, but how could I not understand? Begging Meng Guowei to be your desk mate, tutoring you in your studies… isn’t the meaning clear enough? And that day we fought at the internet cafe, I finally figured out why he rushed over so frantically!”

He doesn’t.He didn’t.

But Xu Sheng was powerless to argue.

Only after swapping back did he truly realize just how badly he had shattered Shao Zhan’s persona.

Xu Sheng’s speechless reaction only gave Zhang Feng more confidence. He felt like a genius, having unraveled Linjiang Sixth High’s biggest secret: “Alright, I know there are some things I shouldn’t expose. This is a private matter between you two, after all.”

Xu Sheng interrupted: “No… this situation might… deviate slightly from your imagination.”

Zhang Feng’s eyes were filled with certainty: “I understand everything. What are you afraid of with me? I won’t tell anyone.”

“…”

Bro, you acting like this actually makes me pretty afraid.

Xu Sheng finally sighed: “Fuck off and play ball. Hurry up and scram.”

Zhang Feng hugged his basketball and ran onto the court.

Xu Sheng sat by the basketball court for a while longer. Before the sky grew completely dark, he opened WeChat again and re-read the message, “Come back this weekend.”

Then, without looking, he tossed his water bottle toward the trash can and stood up.

Thunk!

Tracing a perfect parabola, it landed squarely inside.

It had been a month since he last went home. The residential complex looked the same, with a few more green plants, and two rows of sycamore trees planted along the road from the entrance. Located on the outskirts of C City, the area wasn’t overly bustling; the environment was quiet.

Xu Sheng unlocked the door. The light in the entryway was on.

When he arrived home, the woman had also just returned from her company. Dressed in a black pinstripe suit, she looked crisp and capable. Her long hair was slightly wavy, and she was facing the window, on the phone: “No problem, President Xue. I’ll have someone revise the report tonight… I’m really sorry, I should have been more careful. An oversight like this shouldn’t have happened.”

Passing through the living room, Xu Sheng rapped his knuckles lightly twice on the dining room doorframe, signaling his arrival.

Xu Yaping spoke a few more sentences before hanging up.

Xu Sheng had originally poured himself a glass of water. Seeing her hang up, he pushed the glass toward her, then leaned back into his chair.

On the table were home-style dishes ordered from a nearby restaurant.

Xu Yaping said: “Work came up suddenly, and I didn’t have time to buy groceries, so I just ordered some takeout.”

The woman looked like a quintessential career woman. She resembled Xu Sheng closely, especially the eyes, though hers lacked the teenager’s sharp edge. Aside from faint fine lines at the corners of her eyes, time had barely left a mark on her. Anyone who saw her would think she was a very beautiful woman.

Fresh out of a busy workday, her face was lined with exhaustion.

Xu Yaping’s tone carried a hardness honed in the workplace, one she was completely unaware of: “I heard you had a baseline exam yesterday. How did you do?”

Xu Sheng didn’t care, picking up some food with his chopsticks: “Just the usual. Normal performance. Still have over a hundred points of room for improvement.”

Other people scored over a hundred. For him, it became having over a hundred points of room for improvement.

Xu Yaping: “…”

Pinching her chopsticks, Xu Yaping didn’t move for a long time. She seemed to hold back again and again, finally setting her chopsticks down, taking the initiative to puncture the seemingly normal atmosphere: “Are you still thinking about—”

Clack. Before she could finish, Xu Sheng also set his chopsticks down.

The air seemed to freeze instantly.

The heaviness pressed down, making it hard to breathe.

Neither of them mentioned that word, but it was no different from saying it aloud.

In this oppressive, suffocating air, Xu Sheng instinctively reached up to unbutton his school uniform collar, only to remember he was no longer Shao Zhan, nor was he wearing a uniform.

After a long pause, Xu Sheng stood up and said, “Mom, I’m full. You eat by yourself.”

Xu Yaping didn’t speak, enduring it, her nails digging into her palms. She was happy Xu Sheng had come back; half of her regretted her impatience, ruining a perfectly good meal, while the other half was angry—angry at the child’s attitude toward studying: “Stop right there. Where are you going?”

Xu Yaping also stood up, the two facing off across the dining table: “I know you still blame me, even hate me. Hate me for interfering with you. But you’re still young, your understanding of this world and society isn’t sound…”

“I’m going out for a walk. If you only called me back to tell me this,” Xu Sheng said nonchalantly, “there’s probably no need for us to sit here and eat together. Also, next time, there’s no need to subtly interrogate Meng Guowei about what I’ve been doing lately.”

His current state was no different from the first time Meng Guowei had called him into the office after the baseline exam—looking as if he cared about nothing, invulnerable.

After speaking, Xu Sheng pulled the door open.

Xu Yaping was a single mother, spending most of her time busy with work. Faced with the pressure of survival, many things couldn’t be balanced. Since Xu Sheng was young, whenever she came home late, Xu Sheng was left at a private art studio downstairs in their complex.

The studio wasn’t large, with only a dozen or so students in total. The owner was an art teacher. Xu Yaping remembered the first time the teacher praised, “This child has talent,” she hadn’t taken it seriously.

In Xu Yaping’s mind, how could drawing be considered a proper job? If he liked it, no one was stopping him from drawing in his spare time.

She just wanted the child to have a stable life…

Staring at the empty seat across from her, Xu Yaping sighed helplessly. Exhausted by a multitude of things, she slowly closed her eyes.

Xu Sheng said he was going out for a walk, but he didn’t actually know where to go. Standing on the street, he paced a few times. Pulling out his phone to check the time, he unlocked it, and the sketch on the screen caught his eye.

Below the blurry pixels of the date on this drawing was a signature: an S.

Xu Sheng didn’t know how he ended up wandering back to the old neighborhood they lived in before moving.

The art studio downstairs looked the same as always. The door was half-open, having just taken in a new batch of students. Approaching the door, Xu Sheng heard the teacher explaining the basic pencil grip: “When we hold the pencil, it’s different from holding a pen to write. We use our thumb and index finger to hold the pencil, resting it in the palm, pressing the pad of the thumb against the barrel… Right, this lesson will focus mainly on gripping the pencil and drawing straight lines.”

There was another partitioned area inside the studio, an open-concept room. Students who had studied there for years would often find time to come practice on their own. If they didn’t finish a piece, they’d leave it in the partition, which earned it the nickname “Advanced Room.”

It was the kind of room where a single sketch or oil painting could take a week to finish, with a level of detail that left people in awe.

It completely exceeded the comprehension of the students who had just started learning to draw.

It was like you were still learning sheet music, while they were already performing in a concert hall.

The teacher was a woman in her forties, slender, wearing a white dress and long straight hair. She spoke softly: “I’ll hand out a sheet of drawing paper to everyone. The focus of this lesson is to practice drawing straight lines.”

Xu Sheng stood at the door but didn’t go in.

Only after the woman finished demonstrating for the students, stood up to organize the drawing paper, and pinned the demonstration piece on the blackboard did she turn around and see him: “Xu Sheng?”

Xu Sheng walked in: “Aunt Kang.”

Xu Sheng had called her that since he was little. Aunt Kang smiled, unable to resist looking him over a few times: “Is high school keeping you busy? Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

Xu Sheng: “It’s alright. I came to the area… to buy something, and dropped by to see you on the way.”

“Xiao Kai happens to be inside,” How could Aunt Kang not know that “buying something” was just an excuse? The falling out between the Xu mother and son had been severe, but she wasn’t in a position to say much. She pointed to the partition. “He was just talking about you a few days ago. He’ll definitely be happy you’re here.”

Kang Kai was Aunt Kang’s son, a few months younger than Xu Sheng. They had practically grown up together in the studio. The last time they had contact was when Kang Kai entered the “Xinghai Cup” competition.

Though it was Kang Kai contacting him one-sidedly; Xu Sheng hadn’t replied to those messages.

Hearing the name “Xu Sheng,” Kang Kai dropped his brush and came out. He had handsome features, though he wasn’t very tall. Seeing it really was Xu Sheng, he quickly pulled him into the partition: “Mom, you go teach your class! You don’t need to correct that drawing, I’ll have Sheng-ge do it for me.”

“This is how you welcome me?” Xu Sheng picked a sharpened pencil from the pencil box. “Asking me to correct your drawing the moment I arrive.”

Kang Kai: “You know how my mom is. She’s fine normally, but when she gets fierce, she’s a total tigress.”

Xu Sheng’s gaze fell on the portrait on the easel, and he began adjusting the local structural proportions for him.

“No wonder my mom always complains about me and tells me to learn from you,” The structural deviation Kang Kai had been studying on the paper for half the day was caught by Xu Sheng in a single glance. “…Are you even human? Is the structure of our hands different?”

Whether the structure of their hands was different was unclear, but Xu Sheng’s fingers were long, and arguably better-looking than most.

Xu Sheng said: “Don’t feel inferior. Diligence can make up for clumsiness.”

Kang Kai: “Fuck off.”

Xu Sheng: “Face the gap between people head-on, and turn grief and anger into motivation.”

Kang Kai: “Alright, just shut up.”

Kang Kai asked again: “You didn’t reply when I messaged you last time.”

Xu Sheng said casually: “School is strict.”

Kang Kai thought about it; Linjiang Sixth High was famous for being strict.

Xu Sheng couldn’t stay long. After correcting the structure and emphasizing the shading, he dropped the pencil into the tray: “You finish the rest yourself, I’m going out to wash my hands.”

Besides Kang Kai, there was another student painting in color in the partition. From the moment Xu Sheng walked in, that student had kept glancing over at them.

The reason was simple.

Kang Kai, who was just complaining “Is the structure of our hands different,” was the universally recognized Art God of the studio. Normally, he was the only one correcting other people’s drawings. Even though exam season hadn’t arrived yet, with his current skill level, if he were dragged into the joint art exams, he could easily secure a spot in the city’s top ten. Within the studio, his skills were practically cheat-code level.

Not to mention the Xinghai Cup painting competition a month ago, where he had taken first place.

That was a competition judged by Master Yang himself!

“Art God,” The student, consumed by curiosity, asked while rinsing his brush, “Who is that? Is he from our studio too? Is he really good?”

Kang Kai’s tone was careless, but the words he spoke painted an entirely different picture. He recalled the “Xinghai Cup” painting competition, where Master Yang Mingzong had chased after him, looking as if he wanted to beg him to reveal who had corrected his drawing, and said: “If I’m an Art God, then there probably aren’t any words left to describe the guy who was just here. Let’s put it this way: if that lord over there entered the joint exams, the city’s number one spot would probably change hands.”