Lately, Qin An and Little Tyrant’s relationship had progressed rapidly. They occasionally sparred, always holding back, and Qin An always suffered crushing defeats. Whether he was taking it easy on her remained unknown.
This period was PE class. The lovely An Qi, lacking stamina, ran only two laps before blushing and hiding under a tree’s shade. Qin An simply skipped class, lounging under the shade and lost in daydreams.
Qin An’s class shared PE with Little Tyrant’s class. Since Hongxing Elementary was affiliated with Hongxing Middle School, they used the same sports field. Most basketball courts were occupied by middle schoolers, leaving just one court. A dispute erupted between the two classes over it.
“Little Tyrant, listen up—we’re taking this court today,” Chen Chao declared.
“Why should it be yours? It’s ours today. Come and take it if you dare!” Little Tyrant shot back.
“Getting cocky, huh? Guess you won’t learn until it’s too late.”
“Hmph!”
“Basketball’s a boy’s game, Little Tyrant.”
“Pfft! China’s men’s team can’t even beat the women’s!”
Chen Chao fell silent, then snapped, “We’re taking this court today, no matter what.”
Tall boys in jerseys crowded behind Chen Chao. Little Tyrant wasn’t short, but they towered over her.
“Face us on the court then! Let basketball do the talking,” Little Tyrant said, clutching the basketball.
“Fine! How many of you can actually play?” Chen Chao smirked. Two boys behind Little Tyrant slunk back into the crowd.
“You cowards!” Little Tyrant scolded. With just herself and two others, how could they play?
“Um, count me in. I don’t know how to play, though,” a skinny boy volunteered.
“And me,” Qin An added, raising his hand. Little Tyrant’s eyes lit up at his voice.
“Qin An, aren’t you from our class? Why side with them?” a plain-looking girl asked, clearly smitten with Chen Chao.
Huang Jiajun frowned at Qin An. *He has no team spirit. He needs a good lesson.* She disliked Chen Chao’s tactics but saw Little Tyrant as no better—both bullies, just degrees apart. How could a girl brawl like boys?
“Chen Chao, crush them!” a boy yelled. Students formed cliques, but some stood outside all circles—snitches, the very ugly or stunningly beautiful, those favored by girls, or quiet loners. Qin An was one such outcast.
“Beat that traitor, that turncoat!” another boy jeered.
“Fine! You’ll see my skills—I’m from the youth center’s team,” Chen Chao boasted.
The game began. Chen Chao lunged for the ball, but Little Tyrant snatched it first. She weaved through defenders with slick moves and sank a perfect layup.
Chen Chao’s team got crushed. Qin An’s three-pointers were freakishly accurate—100% hits. *How is this fair? It’s like cheating!* Chen Chao gaped.
The score gap widened. Chen Chao signaled the skinny boy, who passed the ball straight to the opponents. One mistake was forgivable, but it kept happening. The 5 vs. 5 match dwindled to 2 vs. 8.
“I wanted to win fair, but you forced my hand.”
“Chen Chao, you’re despicable!”
“So what? Go play jump rope instead.”
“Wait, Little Tyrant—don’t get worked up!” Qin An called, but she charged forward alone with the ball. Eight players swarmed her. She faked past two defenders, but Chen Chao slammed into her from behind. She crashed to the ground, scraping her knee.
“Foul, Chen Chao!” she gritted her teeth.
“Me? No way!” Chen Chao shrugged. “The ref didn’t blow the whistle.”
He and the referee exchanged smirks.
Qin An helped her up. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Chen Chao’s so underhanded—all his friends ganged up. This game’s rigged. Let’s go.”
“We can’t let it slide. They hurt you. Just watch,” Qin An said, seating her under the hoop.
He grabbed the ball and stepped back on court.
“Still wanna play?”
“Yeah,” Qin An nodded innocently.
“Hah! You fool. Perfect chance to show what happens when you cross Chen Da Shao.”
“You won’t touch this ball again.”
Qin An made it true. He sank a half-court three-pointer, shocking everyone. *This guy’s luck is insane!*
Then it was his solo show. He caught the ball under the hoop, dodged every trap like a nimble monkey, and scored.
The final whistle blew. Qin An spun the ball in his hand. “Still playing?”
Chen Chao’s worldview shattered.
In the infirmary—
Qin An silently applied ointment to Little Tyrant’s wound. Lately, he’d become her unofficial medic. He couldn’t help but admire her porcelain-white legs.
No teacher was around. Qin An swiped some bruise ointment, alcohol, and cotton balls.
“Thief,” Little Tyrant muttered, noticing his moves.
“It’s for you. You get hurt every other day. Aunt Xia scolds you each time you ask for medicine—I hate seeing that.”
Little Tyrant wiggled her snow-white foot. “Qin An, remember when we were kids? Those were good times. Pushing you into the river while you fished, yanking your chair when you sat, sprinkling chili powder on your bread, making crabs pinch your pants, forcing you to kiss silver carp…”
Qin An broke a sweat. *She was ‘nice’ to me?* But dwelling on old grudges felt pointless now.
“You must hate me. I stole your toys, was a total brat. I thought bullying you was fun. Being with you was just… nice.”
“Can we stay friends? I promise I’ll never bully you again,” Little Tyrant vowed, thumping her chest.
“Silly. Aren’t we supposed to be best friends, brothers for life?” Qin An hugged her. Having someone to lean on felt amazing—he nearly cried. But why did she smell so sweet? Must be his allergies acting up.
“Brothers… for life?” Little Tyrant’s voice trailed off, heavy with regret and quiet sadness.
She touched her short hair. Maybe it’d be a long time before her next haircut.
