What kind of temper did Song Die have? He was a golden boy, excelling in academics, sports, family background, and appearance—always praised and spoiled throughout his life.
How could someone like him possibly have a good temper?
He just had high emotional intelligence and rarely showed his emotions on the surface, giving people the illusion that his temper was fine.
But pretending was always just pretending.
When the halftime whistle blew, everyone on the basketball court dispersed. At this moment, the two teenagers standing face-to-face at the three-point line appeared especially out of place, the tension between them so thick it seemed like it could ignite at any second.
A low-pressure atmosphere swept across the court.
No one knew what had happened, but everyone could see the two teenagers, both averaging over 1.8 meters tall, locked in a standoff like two male deer clashing horns—neither willing to back down.
One of them had a grim expression, clenching his fists tightly.
The other wore a mocking, coldly indifferent look.
The members of A University’s basketball team exchanged uneasy glances. They were genuinely confused—after all, even at the beginning of the season when they had performed poorly and been crushed by mid-tier schools, they had never seen their captain wear such an expression.
It was as if he wanted to eat someone alive.
Everyone was nearly scared out of their wits. The team manager frantically kicked the heel of the “cannon fodder elder brother” who had just survived stepping onto the court moments ago, signaling him to do something.
With no other choice, the cannon fodder elder brother could only grit his teeth, grab a bottle of water, and head back into the fray.
Approaching the two, the oppressive atmosphere made it hard for him to breathe. Trembling slightly, he handed the mineral water to Song Die: “What’s going on? Why did you suddenly get so angry? Let’s talk things through calmly—have some water and cool down—”
The ending sound of the word “ah” hadn’t even finished echoing.
Song Die took the water, and right in front of Bei Jiao, he hurled it to the ground.
With a loud “pop,” the cap flew off, and water splashed everywhere.
“If you don’t want to play, then get lost!” he said, his eyes pitch-black, clearly brewing a storm. He then turned to the cannon fodder elder brother standing beside him, who was still trembling in fear: “Switch players in the second half—let Li Heng play.”
Cannon fodder elder brother: “….”
Help! I don’t get a say in this either!
Li Heng, who was unexpectedly called out from the sidelines: “….”
Help! I don’t want to play either!
In the ensuing deathly silence, a scoffing laugh rang out.
Standing before Song Die, the teenager lazily used his pinky finger to dig in his ear, completely indifferent to Song Die’s anger, and instead turned to ask the cannon fodder elder brother: “Wasn’t that long pass followed by a three-pointer just now amazing?”
Cannon fodder elder brother: “…QAQ I don’t know, don’t ask me.”
Bei Jiao turned back to Song Die, expressionless: “I passed the ball. I just didn’t want to pass it to you. Since you didn’t pass it to me first, why should I pass it to you?”
Song Die asked, “Which eye of yours saw me not passing the ball to you?”
Bei Jiao calmly replied, “Both.”
Song Die’s chest heaved slightly: “Fine, let’s not discuss that. Based on your performance just now, do you really think I can let you join the basketball team?”
Bei Jiao fell silent briefly, thinking to himself that this guy was pretty despicable, attacking someone’s weakness like that.
So he nodded: “It’s fine if you don’t let me join. I’ll just stop living in the school dormitory.”
Before Song Die could react to how easily Bei Jiao had suddenly given up, he saw him lift his chin slightly and nod toward the sidelines: “I’ll go live at her place.”
Song Die followed the direction Bei Jiao had indicated with his chin and turned around to see Jiang Ran watching them with a confused expression.
Song Die: “….”
Bei Jiao: “Her bed is pretty soft.”
Song Die: “….”
Bei Jiao chuckled lightly: “You wouldn’t understand anyway.”
Before Song Die could charge forward and fight him, everyone rushed over and dragged him away.
……
Xie Yu went to find out what had happened but didn’t get any clear answers—only that A University’s bench and their captain had clashed, exact reasons unknown.
He returned to report to Jiang Ran, then took the initiative to call for a timeout.
Thanks to Bei Jiao’s final three-pointer, A University had now taken a one-point lead. But since it was a spectacular game-winning three, no one could really argue—ending the game like this was acceptable, and no one would lose face.
As the pace of the game slowed, the previously tense atmosphere finally began to ease slightly.
Bei Jiao and Song Die returned to the sidelines.
Then a very contrasting scene unfolded—
Around Song Die, the crowd could practically be described as bustling with visitors. Besides teammates, the manager, and assistants, even some girls from the audience had gathered around him. Instantly, ice towels and energy drinks appeared in his hands. Even one particularly emotional girl, eyes red, told him not to get angry and reached out as if to touch his sweaty forehead…
Song Die coldly dodged away.
And as the key player who had scored the game-winning point, Bei Jiao returned to the sidelines. Although everyone cast appreciative glances his way, aside from Xie Yu patting his shoulder and praising, “You jumped really high,” no one else approached to talk to him.
One side was lively, almost too crowded to stand.
The other side was icy cold.
But Bei Jiao seemed accustomed to it, showing no sign of discomfort on his face. He casually trotted off to a quiet corner and squatted down by himself.
The bustling background noise behind him seemed unrelated to him. Automatically tuning it out, he raised his hand and roughly wiped the sweat dripping down his face, then casually wiped his hands on his jersey… then somehow pulled out his phone. As soon as the screen lit up, he started typing furiously—
Based on Jiang Ran’s limited experience, Bei Jiao, who usually had “Go away,” “Don’t bother me,” “Get lost,” and “1 (*means ‘Got it’)*” as common verbal tics, rarely showed such eagerness to communicate with anyone.
This sparked her curiosity.
So she quietly made her way through the crowd and stood behind Bei Jiao. She leaned forward on her knees and saw the little brat furiously typing to someone whose profile picture was a fat guy and whose note name was “Boss”—
[Bei Jiao: Last-minute plan failed.]
[Bei Jiao: Just set up that bunk bed again.]
[Bei Jiao: If someone had told me beforehand that the captain of A University’s basketball team was a petty, neurotic lunatic, I’d never have agreed to play in this stupid game. He’s like a firecracker—ready to explode at the slightest provocation.]
[Bei Jiao: Xie Yu’s better than him anyway.]
[Bei Jiao: Although Xie Yu is also pretty annoying.]
[Bei Jiao: Do you think if I join the team from Liaoning C University in the second half, Xie Yu could spare me a bed in their dorm?]
[Bei Jiao: …Forget it, I don’t want to sleep with him.]
[Bei Jiao: Just set up the bunk bed again.]
[Bei Jiao: They’re all lunatics.]
Jiang Ran: “….”
The entire screen was filled with green text bubbles, like a breakup essay reserved for couples.
The poor kid was clearly deeply wronged.
Jiang Ran leaned on her knees and crouched behind the boy, watching him furiously type away to the bar owner. After a while, probably because his legs had gone numb, he shifted slightly. Then, amidst the strong scent of his own sweat, he caught a faint whiff of something unfamiliar—musk.
From his extensive experience, he recognized this as the base note of a fragrance. Its top note should be pepper and milk.
As soon as his phone screen went dark, he tilted his head back from his squatting position—meeting, from a looking-up angle, a pair of warm, smiling almond eyes filled with gentle amusement.
Jiang Ran lifted her hand, placing a bottle of mineral water still covered in icy dewdrops on the boy’s forehead.
Startled by the cold, he flinched, and a droplet slid from his forehead into his hair.
“What happened between you and Song Die?”
Her voice was gentle and slow, her tone of inquiry so soft it almost sounded insincere—clearly up to no good.
Bei Jiao eyed her warily. As she asked, she somehow pulled out an ice-cold wet towel and made a move to hand it to him.
He took it, casually using the towel to wipe the sweat droplet dangling from his chin. Then, realizing something was off, he unfolded the towel and inspected it—embroidered with the words “A University Basketball Team.”
While marveling at the fact that they even had custom towels, he tossed the towel back to the woman behind him, coldly and stubbornly declaring: “I don’t use their stuff.”
Another point added to the list of grievances.
(Note: “委屈” is often translated as “grievances,” “wrongs,” or “sense of injustice” depending on context. “Tally” can be replaced with “list” or “count” for natural flow. The translation conveys the accumulation of perceived unfairness.)
Jiang Ran said “Oh” and asked: “Will you drink their water then?”
Bei Jiao frowned: “No way.”
Another point added to the grievance tally.
Seeing him wearing such a sour expression, neither approachable nor easy to placate, Jiang Ran circled around from behind him to his side, persistently asking again: “What did you two fight about?”
Bei Jiao thought she was annoying when she first asked.
By the time she asked a second time, he wasn’t so annoyed anymore. After all, this was Jiang Ran—probably the most annoying Scorpio in the zodiac, with her Scorpio rising, moon, and sun signs. She was the kind of person who wouldn’t stop until her curiosity was satisfied.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a little kid from kindergarten,” he snapped, “or I’ll punch you, believe me.”
Jiang Ran wasn’t afraid of his threats. She crouched down beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and poked a finger at his solid, sweaty arm: “Then answer me.”
He pushed back his sweat-soaked hair with one hand, letting out a cold laugh: “How should I know what’s wrong with him? This morning he asked where I came from, and I said your house. Then he never passed the ball to me again… If he didn’t pass it to me, why should I pass it to him?”
At this, he let out a puff of air through his nose and muttered, “He dares to get angry first.”
It sounded like a major mystery.
Did he understand why Song Die suddenly got angry?
He did.
He just thought it wasn’t that big of a deal.
Listening beside him, Jiang Ran also understood the situation. For a moment, she didn’t know how to comfort her cheap little “younger brother.” What could she say—“Sorry, it’s all because your cheap older sister is a beauty who brings disaster. I’ll go apply to change my name to Su Daji at the local office right away?”
She was speechless. This wasn’t exactly Bei Jiao’s fault…
Nor was it entirely Song Die’s fault.
Who told you to provoke him?
But she wasn’t very good at soothing people either. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.
Eventually, she gave up and twisted open a bottle of mineral water, trying to pacify him: “Drink some water first.”
Bei Jiao: “I said I won’t drink it.”
Jiang Ran threw the bottle to him, and he immediately tossed it back like a hot potato. She let out a sharp “Hmph” with a raised brow, but he remained completely indifferent, even throwing in a sarcastic jab: “What, at least I didn’t smash it on the ground and splash water everywhere.”
Jiang Ran asked: “Are you planning to get yourself worked up to death?”
Bei Jiao glanced at her.
Then he glanced at Song Die, who was not far behind them, surrounded and fawned over by everyone, yet still occasionally stealing glances in their direction restlessly.
He paused.
Suddenly, a cold, not-so-benevolent smile curled his lips.
“Then make him come apologize to me, and I won’t die.”
……
There’s a term in this world called “male honey trap.”
And Jiang Ran was the foolish female tyrant who, knowing full well that this “honey trap” was a shameless manipulator, still insisted on playing along with the act.
After all, compared to Bei Jiao, Song Die was indeed easier to deal with.
Bearing the resentment and grievances of her cheap younger brother, she turned to look for Song Die. Of course, she didn’t actually intend to make him apologize—she wasn’t even clear about what exactly had transpired between the two of them and had no desire to play the role of mediator.
She just wanted both of them to take a step back and finish the game properly. Was there any need to act like two fighting roosters and make a spectacle in front of others?
With this thought in mind, she returned to Song Die’s side.
How to put it—like stepping from winter back into spring.
Song Die was waiting by the sidelines, having sent everyone else away. His face was no longer cold, and he smiled at Jiang Ran, calling her “Big Sister.”
“You’re angry too, aren’t you?” Jiang Ran stood beside him.
Song Die slightly retracted his smile, his expression translating roughly to: If you’re going to bring this up, I won’t be happy.
“He used you to provoke me,” Song Die stared into her eyes. “He did it on purpose.”
Both were filled with grievances.
Jiang Ran really couldn’t act as a referee.
Now she regretted trying to mediate—she almost wanted to turn around and leave.
“You two should talk things through calmly,” she said dryly. “What’s the point of arguing in front of Xie Yu? He kept asking me what happened between you two, but how should I know? I wanted to ask him too—”
Song Die’s smile returned slightly as he lowered his eyes, gently saying to her: “I’m sorry.”
He apologized so quickly that Jiang Ran’s anger immediately cooled. She slightly lifted her head, looking at him as he smiled at her with twinkling eyes, his temper now as gentle as ever.
Jiang Ran steeled herself: “Then can you—”
As she began to speak, Song Die’s smile showed signs of fading.
She felt a bit uncertain, hesitating whether to back down, when suddenly an unexpected incident occurred—
They had been mediating during halftime, and the game seemed unlikely to resume soon. The remaining players from Liaoning C University and Guangzhou A University, itching to play, had grabbed the ball and started playing on the court themselves.
At this moment, someone clearly wasn’t paying attention and sent a fast pass flying straight toward them!
In the blink of an eye, Jiang Ran, who had been working out and playing sports regularly, reacted quickly. Seeing the ball about to hit Song Die, she instinctively reached out to block it—
The ball changed course!
Flying straight sideways!
Then “bang!”—it hit Bei Jiao, who was squatting nearby, directly in the face!
A clear imprint of the ball appeared on the boy’s handsome, fair face, quickly turning red. He blinked in confusion for a moment, then slowly turned his head in his squatting position, staring blankly toward Jiang Ran’s direction.
Jiang Ran: “………………………………”
Silence reigned.
The world seemed to end.
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!!
Author’s Note:
Bei Jiao: Fine. Can’t be fully comforted anymore.
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