Saturday morning dawned clear and bright, the sun blazing overhead. Jin Tang High’s sports meet had reached its second day.

Past eight o’clock, the crowd had swelled—those who should come, and those who shouldn’t. The entire field buzzed with noise: constant whistles, students’ cheers, and bursts of inexplicable laughter.

Athletes darted across the grounds while ordinary students strolled leisurely between events, soaking in the spectacle. Behind the field, each class claimed its territory. Students who hadn’t signed up for competitions clustered densely here. Some huddled over board games—Sanguosha, the classic card game Fight the Landlord, or Guandan. Others gathered around tablets, watching downloaded movies and dramas.

Jin Tang wasn’t strict about phones or tablets. Confiscation was unheard of. In a metropolis like River City, students without digital devices simply didn’t exist. Parents needed to stay in touch, so phones were inevitable.

But once phones entered the picture, problems arose. Kids compared brands—Apple versus Samsung—and bragged endlessly. Those from well-off families didn’t care; they owned the best. Others, less fortunate, either shrank from such talk out of insecurity or burned with vanity, scrambling to buy the latest models regardless of their family’s burden.

Qinmu still used an ancient iPhone 5. She rarely went online or played games. To her, a phone was just for calls. HuiXiang was different—she bought every new iPhone each fall. Qinmu’s device was a hand-me-down from her.

*Bang!* The starter pistol cracked. Smoke dissipated as the boys’ 1500-meter race began. Runners surged forward, straining for top ranks.

Near the track, the volleyball court was in halftime. Both teams stood locked in tense discussion, strategizing for the second half. The court was ringed tightly by spectators—drawn by the thrilling match or the fiercely devoted cheer squads.

Qinmu wiped sweat from her face with a towel, exhaustion etched on her features. She stood beside Ling Xu, listening intently to her tactical breakdowns—offense, defense, how to crush Class 12’s spirit.

Class 12 was simply stronger. Their average height towered over Class 3’s—a harsh reality. They boasted the school’s largest pool of athletic students. Winning any competition was effortless for them.

The score stood at 1-2. Class 12 had already taken two sets. Class 3 had won the first on sheer momentum and luck. Then their rhythm shattered, their play grew passive, and losing the next two sets felt inevitable.

This next set was critical. Lose it, and Class 3 would be eliminated—out of the quarterfinals, their sports meet journey over.

Reaching the quarterfinals wasn’t shameful, but who didn’t crave a higher rank? No one surrendered before trying, no matter the opponent. Who knew who’d win until the final point?

History overflowed with underdog victories. *Dreams are worth having—you never know when they’ll come true.* Doing nothing was the truest foolishness.

Class 3’s players stacked their hands together, thrust them down, and shouted in unison: “Fight!”

Backs against the wall—they’d charge forward, pressure be damned.

Players returned to position. Class 12’s girls radiated confidence. A flawless serve stole the first point. Panic flared in Class 3. They scrambled to correct mistakes, desperate not to betray their cheering classmates and alumni.

Qinmu stayed calm. She blocked several attacks. Then Class 3’s backline rallied, launching a counterattack that snatched a point. 11-11.

Neither side yielded. Class 12 aimed to finish off the struggling Class 3. Class 3 fought to stall them, planning a full comeback. These clashing wills ignited the match. The crowd roared: “Class 3, fight!” “Class 12 is unbeatable!”

The frenzy felt apocalyptic.

Yue Yang stood wedged in the crowd, hands clasped tightly over her chest. Her gaze locked on the court, tense as if she were fighting in Qinmu’s place.

Her eyes saw only “HuiXiang” (Qinmu).

The sweat-streaked girl on court—tense, defiant—bore no resemblance to the gentle, mischievous girl she’d heard about. This was a warrior with a boy’s grit.

At every brilliant play, Yue Yang clapped instinctively, secretly snapping photos with her phone. She knew it was her sister, but the uncanny resemblance to Qinmu made her heart ache. She had to capture these precious moments.

---

Qi Yao arrived at the school gate, bowing and scraping before the security guard. “Uncle, sorry—I overslept. Can you let me in? I’m from Class 13. My homeroom teacher is Jin Rong. See my student ID? And my uniform?”

The guard eyed him. His respectful tone earned leniency. “Rules say no latecomers, but… I’ll look the other way this once. Go on.”

“Thank you, Uncle!” Qi Yao dashed past the guard station. He’d almost blurted “Grandpa” in his excitement—good thing he caught himself.

He was lucky Ouyang Muxia wasn’t patrolling the gates today. Otherwise, he’d be trapped writing boring announcements again.

Relieved, he slipped through the field’s open gate, weaving past track athletes to find his class. But the sea of students made it impossible. After circling endlessly, he spotted no classmates—only HuiXiang competing.

His dopamine and adrenaline spiked. He shoved through the packed crowd, squeezing from the back row to the front. Sweat soaked his shirt; glares followed him. He didn’t care. Seeing his goddess was worth any price.

He watched HuiXiang like a high-definition camera, tracking every move, every flicker of expression. He clapped, murmuring, “Amazing! I knew she was good at taekwondo, but volleyball too? Top-tier!”

---

Class 12 won. Qinmu’s mood plummeted. She’d tried so hard, yet failed to lead Class 3 forward.

She slumped on stone steps near the court, chin propped on her hands, staring blankly at ants crawling below.

Qi Yao slipped through the crowd and sidled up to her. “HuiXiang! That was incredible! Even though you lost, I’m giving you thirty-two likes!”

Qinmu jolted. *Him? Here? As a girl?* Ten thousand grass-mud horses stampeded through her mind.

If her best friend discovered she was a girl… disaster. He could blackmail her. Her dignity would vanish in an instant. The thought tore at her chest. She couldn’t lose her purity moments after becoming a girl.

*Never!*

She mustn’t slip—not in speech, not in manner. Stay calm. Stay sharp. No mistakes.

Qi Yao blinked at her startled expression. “What’s wrong? Something on my face?”

Qinmu shook her head, forcing calm. “No. Nothing. You’re… fine.”

He beamed. “You think I’m a good person? I’ve always felt the same! Kindred spirits recognize each other!”

*Who said you were good? Idiot.* Qinmu seethed inwardly. She edged away, voice icy. “I don’t know what you mean. If you have nothing important, leave. I’m exhausted. Okay?”

Qi Yao saw an opportunity. “Should’ve said so! I’ll get you water. Wait here!”

*Since when is he this nice?* Qinmu fumed. With her, he’d rarely said a kind word. Now he fawned like a puppy. She almost walked away.

He only wanted HuiXiang. To date her. Qinmu recoiled at the thought. Why entrust her sister to this guy—a player who never valued his girlfriends?

If he were reliable, if he could make HuiXiang happy… maybe she’d consider it. But deep down, she wanted to keep her sister safe from men who’d hurt her.

Before she could decide, Qi Yao blinked into view. He thrust an unopened water bottle at her, grinning with unnerving purity. Qinmu felt a trace of nausea.

She snatched the bottle and drank deeply. No need for politeness with him. Waste of time.

Qi Yao glowed. She’d accepted his gift! He pressed his advantage. “So… after volleyball, you’re free, right?”

Qinmu cut him off. “Busy. Very busy.”

His smile faltered. He’d planned a movie date, dinner… all useless now. He scrambled. “Then… is your brother free?”

Qinmu’s eyes sharpened. “Why? He’s free. But what’s it to you?”

A spark lit Qi Yao’s eyes. *Perfect.*

Qinmu watched him warily, waiting for his next move.

Qi Yao added with a sly grin, "Why not let your brother handle your stuff? He’s not that busy. I’m good friends with him. It’d be rude if he skipped this small favor. I’ve got two movie tickets expiring today. Such a waste!"

Qinmu’s temper flared instantly. "What? You want me to ask my brother for help just to go to the cinema with you? Are you insane? No way. I’m not going."

Qi Yao stammered awkwardly, "S-sorry. I didn’t think it through. Are you free tomorrow? No volleyball match, right? How about dinner instead? You pick the time and place."

At the word "dinner," Qinmu perked up but kept a reluctant tone. "So kind? I’m scared you’ll poison me. What’s your real motive? You’ve never cared this much before. Why the sudden change?"

"Well, just a simple meal and chat," Qi Yao laughed openly, completely unaware of the danger. His chuckle was bright and crisp. "But don’t tell your brother. If he finds out I asked you out, he’ll skin me alive. He’s the ultimate overprotective brother. I can’t mess with him. Haha."

Qinmu wanted to beat him up on the spot. In her head, she cursed: "Overprotective brother? Screw that! Your whole family’s like that! I just care for my sister—don’t talk nonsense if you don’t get it!"

But she hid her anger, chatting on with fake interest. She had time to spare. Let’s see what worse things he’d say.

"Heh," she said coolly. "You know he’s overprotective, yet you still harass me? Bold move. Aren’t you scared I’ll tell my brother?"

"I know you won’t tell him," Qi Yao replied confidently. "You’ve talked to me way more today than usual. Normally, you ignore me. You must like me deep down. Why else be so patient? Right?"

Inside, Qi Yao cheered for his own cleverness. He felt he’d shown his smartest, most charming side to ‘HuiXiang.’ She’d surely say yes to dating him any second.

It was all fantasy. HuiXiang would never bother with him. Only his close friend—Qinmu—would endure such a long chat.

"Like hell!" Qinmu snapped, her expression turning serious. "I’m warning you: stop harassing me. Next time, I’ll make my brother cut ties with you. I mean it." She felt no joy at his confession—only disgust and hatred.

Thankfully, she was standing in for HuiXiang today. If not, he might do something worse. Hurting HuiXiang would haunt her forever.

"Do you really hate me that much?" Qi Yao pressed, clutching his chest dramatically. "No chance at all? I may not be as great as your brother, but I truly like you. Can’t you consider it? Ugh, my heart aches." He faked sorrow to win sympathy. But he’d miscalculated. This wasn’t the cute HuiXiang—it was her sister Qinmu, fiery and ruthless.

"Cut the act," Qinmu shot back. "Go bother someone else. I’m annoyed. You’ve got plenty of girls chasing you. Find them. One more step near me, and I’ll cripple your legs."

She couldn’t take it anymore. Imagining her sister facing this harassment made her rage burn hotter. She tossed his water bottle back at him. "Don’t contact me again. Or I’ll report you for sexual harassment. Got it?" She strode off the field.

As she walked, she fumed silently: "Calling me overprotective in front of my sister? You chat with online girls and outsiders daily. If I catch you flirting with her again, I’ll ruin your lower half. Spend your life alone."

Qi Yao scratched his head, watching water spill from the crushed bottle. He sighed. "Just a chat—why so angry? Threatening my legs? You’re not Qinmu, but you’ve sure inherited his style."

He paused. His mood lifted slightly. A faint suspicion grew: that person wasn’t HuiXiang. It was Qinmu. But he wasn’t sure yet—which twin had been on the field?

Breasts could be faked. If HuiXiang begged for help, Qinmu might even wear women’s clothes to school. It wasn’t impossible.