Injuried

On Friday afternoon, the basketball court was filled with the sharp screech of athletic shoes against the floor, the muffled thuds of basketballs hitting the ground, and the energetic shouts of the boys. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting slanted beams of light onto the gleaming wooden floor.

Xing Jiayan's team was having a scrimmage. He was in excellent form today, and his several impressive layups drew cheers from the students watching from the sidelines. Sweat soaked his red and black jersey, clinging to his muscular back, outlining powerful lines as he ran.

"Jiayan! Over here!" He Chen waved from the baseline.

Xing Jiayan dribbled behind his back to shake off the defender, his eyes sharply locking onto the basket. He jumped, ready to unleash a powerful dunk—his signature finishing move, brimming with undeniable dominance.

However, just as he was airborne and about to slam the ball into the basket, his foot suddenly slipped upon landing, as if he had stepped on something wet (perhaps someone's sweat). Losing his balance, he crashed heavily to the floor in a contorted position!

"Bang--"

The dull thud silenced the entire stadium instantly.

"Words of wisdom!"

He Chen and several teammates were the first to rush over.

Xing Jiayan curled up on the floor, his face turning deathly pale, large beads of cold sweat beading on his forehead. He clenched his teeth, trying to stifle a cry of pain, but the excruciating pain in his left ankle made him gasp uncontrollably. His right hand instinctively covered his ankle, which was visibly swelling and turning red at an alarming rate.

"Don't touch him!" The experienced coach immediately stopped the player who tried to help him up. "It might be a torn ligament or a fracture!"

In the chaos, someone ran quickly to call the school doctor.

---

At this moment, Fang Chi was sitting in his usual spot by the window in the library, with a physics competition problem set spread out in front of him. Although the past few days of preparing for the competition with Xing Jiayan were still awkward, he had to admit that the other's thinking and methods had indeed given him a lot of inspiration.

The pen tip traced lines on the paper, writing down formulas, but his attention was somewhat scattered. The faint sounds of basketball court noise drifting in from outside the window made him inexplicably irritable.

"Have you heard? Something happened at the basketball court!" A student who had just come in whispered to his companion, "It seems to be Xing Jiayan from Class 1 of Grade 11. He got injured during practice, and it looks pretty serious. The school doctor has already gone over..."

Clang—

Fang Chi dropped his pen onto the table, making a sudden, jarring sound in the quiet library. He abruptly stood up, the chair legs scraping against the floor with a screeching sound, drawing surprised glances from the students around him.

But he couldn't care less.

Xing Jiayan... is injured?

Xing Jiayan, who is always at ease on the basketball court and always calm and composed in the classroom? Xing Jiayan, who just a few hours ago argued with me about the solution to a competition problem until we were red in the face?

His heart felt like it was being gripped by an invisible hand, and a strange, sharp worry instantly seized all his thoughts. He didn't even have time to tidy up his open books; almost instinctively, he turned and rushed out of the library, sprinting towards the basketball court.

When he arrived at the basketball court entrance, panting, he saw the school doctor and coach carefully carrying Xing Jiayan out on a stretcher. Xing Jiayan's eyes were closed, his brows were furrowed, his pale face was covered in sweat, and his swollen ankle was exposed, a shocking sight.

He Chen and several other team members followed anxiously beside him.

Fang Chi stood rooted to the spot, looking at the somewhat frail figure on the stretcher from a distance. This was completely different from the Xing Jiayan he remembered, who was always a bit arrogant and perpetually upright.

He Chen saw him, paused for a moment, then waved to him, signaling him to follow.

Fang Chi hesitated for a moment, but finally took a step and silently followed the group towards the infirmary.

The infirmary smelled of disinfectant. The school doctor was carefully examining Xing Jiayan's injuries, occasionally asking questions in a low voice. Xing Jiayan's voice was low, filled with suppressed pain.

Fang Chi stood in the corner of the infirmary, watching the school doctor skillfully clean, apply ice, and bandage with an elastic bandage. Throughout the entire process, Xing Jiayan kept his lips tightly pressed together, remaining silent, with only the occasional twitching of his lips betraying his pain.

He Chen leaned close to Fang Chi and whispered, "I was so scared! That fall was really hard... I hope it wasn't too serious, the league matches are coming up soon..."

Fang Chi did not respond; his gaze remained fixed on Xing Jiayan's injured ankle and his pale face. A complex mix of emotions surged within him—concern, worry, and perhaps even a touch of heartache he himself was unaware of.

After the bandaging was completed, the school doctor advised rest and suggested going to the hospital for an X-ray to check for a fracture. The coach and teammates discussed the next steps.

As the crowd dispersed slightly, Xing Jiayan, lying on the hospital bed, glanced casually at the doorway and finally spotted Fang Chi standing in the corner, pursing his lips and remaining silent.

Their eyes met.

Fang Chi felt as if he had been burned, instinctively wanting to look away, but ultimately not. He saw Xing Jiayan seem to pause for a moment, and then, in those eyes that were slightly moist due to pain, a trace of... surprise flashed across them, followed by a deeper emotion that he couldn't understand.

Xing Jiayan shook his head very slightly, almost imperceptibly, his lips seemingly trying to form a smile to indicate "I'm fine," but the pain made it appear somewhat stiff.

Fang Chi's heart felt as if it had been gently bumped by something.

He stood there, neither approaching nor leaving. Only after the coach had arranged for Xing Jiayan to be taken to the hospital and the crowd began to move did he quietly step aside and watch the stretcher being carried away.

He Chen patted him on the shoulder: "Don't worry too much, that guy is pretty sturdy." After saying that, he hurriedly followed.

The infirmary emptied instantly, leaving only the strong smell of disinfectant and the sudden, chaotic turmoil in Fang Chi's heart.

He slowly walked back to the library and tidied up the books he had hastily left behind. The light blue thermos was still standing on the corner of the table, the jasmine tea inside had gone cold.

That evening, Fang Chi sat at his desk, the "Observatory" forum interface still displayed on his computer screen. He opened the chat box with "Yan," his fingers hovering over the keyboard, but he didn't touch it for a long time.

He wanted to ask Yan, "What would you do if someone you care about a lot in real life got hurt?"

He wanted to complain that the guy was so stupid for pretending to be fine when he was clearly in pain and his face was pale.

He wanted to say... I don't think I hate him as much as I thought.

But in the end, he didn't type a single word.

He simply clicked on a popular science post about sports injury rehabilitation on the forum and began to browse it carefully.