Chapter 112: Love Can

Jiang Nian and Li Qingrong hit harder and harder, their expressions growing colder, almost all smashes.

Head-to-head.

Boom—one badminton shuttlecock shot out like a bullet. The violent crack echoed in the corner of the classroom building, drawing many students in class to stand by the windows and watch.

Under the midday sun, everything was slick with sweat.

After a massive sprint, Li Qingrong unleashed another smash, then, after missing the shuttlecock, casually shrugged off her jacket.

Zhang Ningzhi watched from the sidelines and swallowed hard.

"They… seem to be getting angry?"

Yao Beibei opened her mouth but couldn't say for sure. The two were playing too fiercely—cracks rang out violently, neither giving an inch.

She clearly saw, in the sunlight, the thin layer of muscle on Li Qingrong's arm as she swung, and the gritted-teeth expression during the smash—clearly, she was truly furious.

Jiang Nian was the same—his smashes were brutal, leaving no room for mercy, the sonic booms terrifying to hear.

Boom—one might think someone had fired a gun.

"Here we go again!" Li Hua grinned. "Lao Ma, you think Jiang Nian and the monitor might throw down their rackets and start fighting?"

Ma Guojun stared blankly. "Hard to say. Both Jiang Nian and the monitor are fired up—they've really gotten angry."

"Jiang Nian's still insane—just pops up and smashes, no mercy at all." Li Hua shook his head, then added, "But the monitor's pretty insane too."

Boom boom boom!!! Another few sharp sonic booms.

The onlookers from Class Three lost their composure.

"Holy shit, does Jiang Nian hate the monitor? They're jumping to smash—looks like the rackets can't even hold up anymore. This has to be personal!"

"Who knows? Maybe they really do have a grudge." Ma Guojun suddenly turned and asked, "Li Hua, wasn't the monitor also from No. 2 High School before?"

"Fuck, how the hell would I know?"

Jiang Nian was also breathing hard, but he saw Li Qingrong's smashes coming fast—he felt the thrill of the hunt, his fingers itching. Playing high clears back and forth was genuinely satisfying.

The feeling of being drained also made him euphoric.

He was certain Li Qingrong was also fired up—both were enjoying it, but both were searching for a higher peak. That phrasing sounded odd.

In short, the dopamine from exercise was pure.

As they played, the violent part of their genes awakened—extreme jump smashes, rear-court artillery, backhand smashes, consecutive jump smashes, extreme offensive pressure.

Higher, faster, stronger—this had always been humanity's pursuit of violent aesthetics.

The visual and auditory experience of badminton compressed violence to its limit. Though not as blood-pumping as professional basketball, badminton had a lower barrier to entry.

Just stand on the court, watch the footwork, listen to the sound—you instantly know who's fierce.

During the fourth period, more and more students at the windows on both sides of the classroom building stood up to watch. A few from each class would peek out, glance once, then duck back.

Li Qingrong had used up most of her strength, yet she kept fighting hard. Her racket cracked down hard—the shuttlecock flew like artillery, drawing sidelong glances from onlookers.

A few students from parallel classes had just arrived, confused.

"Whoa, beating up a trash guy? Is the guy across the net her ex?"

Jiang Nian showed no mercy—after returning a few shots, he seized his chance with a clean, decisive jump smash. He poured every ounce of strength into it—Boom!

The sonic boom echoed throughout the classroom building!!

"Whoa, broke up and still playing badminton? Shouldn't these exes wear helmets?"

"Holy shit, if that shuttlecock hits someone in the face, they'd be dead, right?"

"That shuttle speed—only someone with deep, ancestral hatred could hit like that. Check their family tree back three generations—there's definitely a wife-stealing grudge."

"Shit, Ji Ming's here (grade head)—let's split."

Li Qingrong caught sight of the Gao San grade head out of the corner of her eye, but her thought was: one more smash. One final shot—find the chance for a powerful overhead smash.

Then she realized Jiang Nian seemed to be feeding her the shuttlecock, deliberately creating an opening for her smash.

Fine—even if this wasn't as satisfying as a natural finish, and felt forced, the grade head had arrived. They couldn't keep playing.

Adjust her breath. Focus her mind.

Li Qingrong stepped back, then leapt decisively—left hand raised, right hand gripping the racket, drawing back like a full moon. In a flash of lightning, she slammed the shuttlecock with full force.

In that instant, even a trail of afterimages formed.

Boom!!!

The massive explosion echoed beside everyone's ears; all present gasped and sucked in a sharp breath.

So decisive—Li Qingrong's agile form resembled a young deer. The shuttlecock became a streak of Bai Guang, like an arrow released from a bow, straight into Jiang Nian's defensive zone.

Wang Yuhe's eyes lit up. The power radiating from Li Qingrong was exactly what she had always sought. She stared without blinking, finally understanding why some girls in class…

Another cry of surprise—Li Qingrong's smash was barely lifted to its limit by Jiang Nian.

This time, Li Qingrong didn't smash. She fed the shuttlecock, just as Jiang Nian had done—a high clear, slow speed. Jiang Nian seized his chance.

Just then, the grade head's shrill whistle pierced the air.

Jiang Nian retreated with crossed steps, denying him any chance to shout a stop. In three quick steps, he reached the backcourt, then leapt high into the air—exactly mirroring Li Qingrong's stance.

Left hand raised, right hand gripping the racket, drawing back like a full moon.

Perhaps because this was the final shot, Jiang Nian held nothing back—he pushed off with all his strength. The racket swung at a terrifying speed, emitting a faint hum as it struck.

Boom!!

The massive roar filled the air—the shuttlecock reached its absolute limit, and its white feather vanes shattered into fragments.

The physical gap between women's and men's singles was undeniable, compounded by Li Qingrong's severe exhaustion. She tried to return it—but her speed couldn't match it. The smash landed, decisive.

As for who won or lost, no one remembered—they only remembered Boom boom boom!!!

"You two!! Don't play badminton here!" The grade head's voice landed with the shuttlecock. "Class is still in session—what's wrong with you students?"

"You're from the Olympiad class—go play somewhere else!"

Instantly, a chorus of boos rose—but out of respect for the grade head's authority, everyone dispersed.

The popping sound faded; Qian Bao looked down from upstairs at the court and saw Jiang Nian returning the racket to Li Qingrong, a faint smile appearing on her face.

Youth still suits sports best—the finest body, the finest years.

She turned her gaze to the class, her eyes lingering on a couple or two who had switched seats. They were top students, seemingly the type who pushed each other to study.

But which couple isn't consumed by desire?

Behind the north gate, a dark dormitory block, dim corridors, tangled wires. A remote bubble tea shop—could you really endure being cooped up in a rented room on a rainy day?

Before, I didn't think there was anything wrong with them; I even found it kind of sweet. After all, they were good students, trying hard to restrain themselves for someone they liked—it was kind of adorable.

But people really shouldn't be compared; goods compared to goods must be discarded.

After watching Jiang Nian and Li Qingrong leap and smash, Qian Bao suddenly felt that children playing in the sunlight were more adorable than couples sneaking around in secret.

She turned back, looking at her classmates; the hum of little bees buzzed through the classroom.

"Everyone, try to exercise more when you have time."

"Here, monitor, I broke your racket," Jiang Nian returned it, still awkward, "Sorry, I used too much force."

"It's fine, I have plenty more," Li Qingrong nodded, her right hand taking the racket with unnatural stiffness.

"Hurt?" Jiang Nian noticed.

"No, just strained it a bit—it's sore," Li Qingrong looked up. "I'm fine. You played really well."

Her replies were brief and flat; apart from the sweat on her head and strands of hair stuck to her forehead, you'd never guess she'd just played a fierce match.

"Yeah, monitor, your smash was gorgeous too," Jiang Nian was pleased by the praise, reciprocating warmly. "I felt like if I'd gone any harder, the racket would've snapped."

Hearing this, Li Qingrong paused a moment, then spoke with firm conviction.

"Next time, use your full strength."

"Huh?"

"If the racket breaks, it's not your fault," Li Qingrong said seriously, eyes bright. "Next time, play with full force—even if the racket breaks, it doesn't matter."

"Oh, okay," Jiang Nian thought to himself—why is she so serious?

Already looking forward to next time?

Then I'll cheat next time.

Eliminate fatigue, two full-energy states—one session stronger than six.

Li Qingrong didn't know Jiang Nian's mind was so dirty—he'd already decided to cheat and crush her next time. She still turned to pack her racket, then pulled on her coat.

Ding-ding-ding!! The noon dismissal bell rang!

"So—bye?" She waved, looking a bit dazed.

"Alright, bye. I need to head to the cafeteria," Jiang Nian glanced at his phone, slightly anxious. "I'm off."

Love can wait—the cafeteria cannot.

A great nation can pause for any humble life, and even get featured in Yi Lin, with plenty believing it wholeheartedly.

But try changing the headline!

A great campus cafeteria can pause for any humble student—guaranteed one spit per person.

Because America is too far away, any absurd thing can exist and be justified. But the campus cafeteria happens every day—no one understands its cruelty better than Jiang Nian.

Talk about love all you want—you can't even get a hot bite to eat!

Htui!!!

Li Qingrong carried her badminton racket upstairs with several girls, as silent as ever. After placing the racket down, she bid farewell to them at the stairwell entrance.

Fifteen minutes had passed since school dismissal; the road by the gate was nearly empty.

She walked downstairs alone, coat on, along a shaded path.

The autumn sun was perfect; she recalled the match she'd just played, and unconsciously closed her eyes in comfort. Jiang Nian would be a good partner—matched in skill.

A cool breeze stirred the rustling leaves; everything felt normal.

The wind blew gently, yet Li Qingrong's mind again surfaced Jiang Nian's leaping smash.

She suddenly stopped walking, her white sneakers stepping on uneven, worn floor tiles. On either side of the path stood statues of Marx and Confucius.

A figure like white feathers blocked the sunlight; his short-sleeved shirt flapped open, revealing a flat, taut abdomen. Strong arms, violent smashes.

A shuttlecock that had broken a feather and gone unreturned, twenty minutes later—humming faintly, slicing through the air again, zipping past her ear.

She blinked—nothing was there, only her heart pounding faster. A strange, unfamiliar bitterness lodged in her throat, indescribable.

After several minutes, Li Qingrong couldn't make sense of it, so she slowly walked away.

In the moment she lowered her gaze, his voice echoed again in her ear: "Monitor, your smash was gorgeous." He'd noticed her new hair tie.

Did he compliment me? It seems so.

She touched her hair tie, then walked slowly out of the school gate.

Jiang Nian finished eating and returned to the classroom. At the bathroom sink, he lifted his shirt and wiped his body. He cupped water in his hands, not caring if he got soaked, rubbing it all over.

A draft from the corridor swept over him—he instantly felt refreshed.

Awesome!

Overall, after overexertion, his hands were a bit sore.

No T-sis's fate, but got T-sis's ailment.

He shook his hands, wondering if he should use treatment this afternoon—could it remove this side effect too? Probably, right?

It wasn't muscle strain—not that bad.

Back in the classroom, after a while, Chen Yunyun and Wang Yuhe walked in together.

Jiang Nian looked up from his seat and smiled. He rose, left his chair, walked over to them, leaned against their desk, and fixed his gaze on Chen Yunyun.

"Does your girl friend hold a grudge against me?"

Chen Yunyun was speechless, rolling her eyes at him.

"Well, I don't know. Who told you to hit so hard?"

"I won't." Wang Yuhe shook her head and said solemnly, "I told you not to go easy on me, so it's not your fault."

"Then why were you crying?" Jiang Nian poked at the sore spot.

Wang Yuhe choked up at once, her face visibly flushing red, flustered.

"I just thought of something sad."

"Oh, really?" Jiang Nian rubbed his chin and muttered, "I thought you just couldn't take it. Actually, you still need to practice your backhand."

Wang Yuhe couldn't hold it in any longer, burst out crying with a wail, and slumped over the table shedding little pearls.

"Jiang Nian, are you sick in the head?" Chen Yunyun couldn't help but punch him, then turned to comfort Wang Yuhe. "Don't mind him, Jiang Nian's always like this!"

Jiang Nian laughed out loud, fished out two candies from his pocket and handed them to the two girls.

"Don't cry, I was just kidding."

"Take them back! Who wants your candy!" Chen Yunyun pushed them away, pretending to be angry.

"Really? I figured if you add some sugar while crying, the tears won't be so salty." Jiang Nian grinned, looking utterly inhuman.

Chen Yunyun: ". There's a reason you're single."

"Tch." Jiang Nian didn't care at all.

Actually, his relationship with the two girls was decent enough for jokes like this; they'd run into each other again over the weekend anyway. Making a high school girl cry was pretty memorable for him too.

Who knew Wang Yuhe actually stopped crying, unwrapped the candy and popped it into her mouth.

"Jiang Nian, how did you practice badminton?"

"How did I practice?" Jiang Nian tilted his head and thought, mimed a swing with his hand. "Just hit it around a bit, watched a few videos, that's about it."

Hearing that, Wang Yuhe choked up once again.

Damn all the talent-types!

She herself was already exceptionally gifted, originally dominating the girls just fine. If she'd known, she wouldn't have played against Jiang Nian—so angry, lost all face, crying while playing.

In front of a true talent monster, it felt like she'd only just cleared one threshold.