Chapter 44

The March wind still carried a chill as it blew through the newly green branches of Hyotei Academy.

The storm caused by the photo of the "very fragrant and sweet" osmanthus cake late at night on Valentine's Day continued to ferment within Bingdi for a while.

Various speculations were rampant, ranging from girls from other schools to a mysterious new idol, and some people even turned their attention to the teacher group. In the end, because no definite "heroine" could be found, the speculation gradually subsided and became a topic of conversation after dinner.

I secretly breathed a sigh of relief and tried to immerse myself in the ordinary daily life of a student: attending classes, training, and preparing for further studies.

However, this apparent calm was completely broken by a long-distance call from China.

The phone screen displayed "Uncle".

After answering the phone, my uncle's steady voice came through the airwaves, with a hint of subtle solemnity: "Xiao Yin, how is everything going recently?"

"It's fine, uncle, don't worry." I tried to make my tone sound relaxed.

"Yeah." My uncle paused, then changed the subject, "Recently...someone has been trying to investigate you. The action was very covert, but the family still noticed it."

My heart sank, as if being gripped by an icy hand. "Investigate me?"

I consider myself to be very low-key in Hyotei. I usually go between home and school. I really can't think of anything worth exploring.

"Yes. The source is in the direction of Tokyo."

My uncle's voice was calm, yet it carried undeniable weight. "Based on our initial assessment, the other party's family has a strong background and strong financial influence. The people they sent are not ordinary people, but experienced elites."

"The method was very clever. Fortunately, our family reacted promptly and cut off the clues, preventing them from finding the core information."

He paused and asked, "Xiao Yin, do you have any idea...? Do you know who it could be?"

Tokyo direction... Consortium power... Elite investigation...

A name almost burst out of my throat - Atobe Keigo.

Who else besides him can mobilize such resources?

Who else...would be so "interested" in me?

The image of that video call during the Spring Festival holiday instantly flooded my mind. I was sitting in my study when he called, his handsome, smiling face on the screen. We chatted casually, and scattered on the desk behind me were several preliminary analysis reports on the family's expansion plans in the Japanese market. Although they were just scraps, with Atobe's keen insight...

A cold feeling of disappointment and offense quickly spread, overcoming the initial shock.

I thought that after that confession in the study on a rainy night, there was at least some kind of tacit trust and closeness between us.

I thought he understood my boundaries and respected my rules.

It turns out...his so-called "waiting" is actually such a silent investigation?

What did he want to know? My family background?

My purpose in hiding my identity? Is he evaluating something?

"I... I'm not sure." I heard my voice cracking a little, and I tried to maintain my composure. "Maybe... a business competitor? After all, my family has business expansion here."

I found the most reasonable excuse to get away with it.

"Well, that possibility can't be ruled out." My uncle didn't ask further questions, but the concern in his tone remained undiminished. "In short, you should be more careful and pay attention to whether there are any suspicious people or things around you. You must be cautious about matters of identity."

"I know, uncle, don't worry." I responded in a low voice.

After hanging up the phone, the sun was shining brightly outside the window, but I felt cold all over.

The Chinese textbook spread out on the desk became blurry, and the only thing left in my mind was Keigo Atobe's eyes, and the way he seemed to be silently examining my background.

In the next few days, I deliberately kept my distance.

When he called, I answered briefly and distantly.

It often takes a long time for him to reply to messages with just "training" or "something".

When he "ran into" me on the way home from school and tried to walk side by side with me as usual, I quickened my pace and said, "I'm about to start preparing for the National Wushu Competition, and the training schedule is very tight."

He paused. I didn't turn around, but I could clearly feel the gaze behind me. The initial surprise quickly settled into a cold, sharp, and incomprehensible anger.

Once, twice... After hitting a few not-so-soft-hard nails, he no longer tried to take the initiative to get closer.

When has the Ice Emperor ever been treated so coldly?

When his eyes looked at me, the temperature seemed to drop to freezing point, mixed with offended pride and a suppressed anger that came from being pushed away for no reason. Occasionally, when we passed each other in the corridor, the air seemed to freeze, filled with silent tension.

There was a subtle cold war between us.

The cherry blossoms bloomed in April, their pink and white petals falling like snow. A new school year had arrived at Hyotei Academy.

Atobe Keigo and I both entered the third year of junior high school.

The new class rosters are posted on the bulletin board.

I stood in the crowd and looked up. On the list of Class H, the three words "Wushanyin" were prominently listed.

His eyes subconsciously swept over the position of Class A - the name "Atobe Keigo" was still at the top, as eye-catching as he himself.

The cherry blossoms are in full bloom and a new semester has begun.

However, what separates us is not falling petals, but a thick ice wall called "investigation".

Holding the heavy new textbooks, I turned around and joined the crowd heading towards the new classroom, deliberately ignoring the gaze that seemed real, inquiring and cold not far away.

He was probably also wondering why I suddenly became so unreasonable.

The training ground became my best safe haven. Sweating profusely, letting my muscles and bones ache, seemed to temporarily numb the complex disappointment and dull pain in my heart.

But every time after training, when I was alone, looking at the cherry blossom petals blown by the wind on the ground, I would involuntarily think of that Valentine's Day night, the night dew on the ends of his hair when he hurried over, and the pure, sparkling satisfaction in his eyes when he ate the osmanthus cake.

Is that look fake?

I don't know. The ice wall stretches across the sky, and petals fall silently.

The wind at the end of April carried the last embers of cherry blossoms, and as it blew through the dojo, it already had the dryness of early summer.

I strained myself like a fully drawn bow, straining to the limits as I prepared for the National Wushu Competition. Sweat soaked my training suit, and every kick and whip cracked with a sharp crack that sliced ​​through the air, as if this could temporarily numb the deep-seated ache within me known as "Atobe Keigo."

The low pressure of the Cold War made even the slow-witted Mukai aware of something was wrong, let alone the astonishingly perceptive Oshitsuki. During lunch break, Oshitsuki "accidentally" encountered Atobe drinking water from a vending machine.

"Still frozen?" Oshitari pushed up his glasses, his gaze behind the lenses understanding. "You paved the way for her to compete in the national competition, Atobe."

His voice was low, but it accurately pierced Atobe's tense nerves. "Instead of spreading negative pressure here and affecting the training of the members, why not think about how to use this stage to break the ice? After all, that's the 'battlefield' you prepared for her."

Atobe tightened his grip on the mineral water bottle, causing the bottle to creak slightly, and a flicker of emotion flashed across his eyes.

Oshitari's words were like a stone dropped into stagnant water. He was silent for a few seconds, then tilted his head back and drank the rest of the water in one gulp. His Adam's apple rolled as he uttered, "I know what to do."

However, this plan of "what to do" was shattered by the scene before him the moment Atobe pushed open the side door of the dojo.

I sat cross-legged on the dojo floor with my laptop open in front of me.

On the screen, a match video was playing repeatedly - a fierce duel between Genichirō Sanada, the captain of the kendo club of Rikkai University Junior High School, and the national competition preliminaries.

His body was as slender as a pine tree, his sword was as swift as lightning, and every movement he made contained the condensed strength that had been tempered through thousands of trials and tribulations.

I leaned forward slightly, my eyes focused, my fingers unconsciously gesturing on my knees as Sanada moved, my lips tightly pursed, that expression of complete concentration that one would only show when encountering an opponent truly worthy of attention.

Atobe Keigo's footsteps were nailed to the door, and Inuzaka's words were still ringing in his ears. The stage was prepared for her.

But the focused light in her eyes at this moment was for another man! A mixture of bitterness, anger at being ignored, and a strong possessive desire instantly burned through his mind.

"Heh," a cold, sneer shattered the stillness of the dojo. I looked up in shock, seeing Atobe leaning against the doorframe. A storm swirled in his eyes, but the curve of his lips held no warmth.

"It seems Kiriyama-san is very interested in Sanada's kendo?"

He deliberately emphasized the words "very interested", and each syllable seemed to be coated with ice.

The concentration on my face faded in an instant, covered by a thin layer of ice, and the dull pain in my heart surged up again.

This kind of tit-for-tat again!

Why does he use such an interrogative tone? He hasn't even explained the investigation into me!

"Sanada-kun is recognized as a top kendo master." I closed my computer and stood up. My tone was calm, but my eyes met his without any compromise. "As a contestant, I want to study the potential strongest opponent. Is there any problem, Atobe-san?"

"The strongest opponent?" Atobe walked in, his tall figure carrying an oppressive feeling, his leather shoes making a clear echo on the wooden floor.

He stopped a few steps in front of me, his eyes sharp as a knife, "I think your research is a bit too 'attentive'! Even the detail of him raising his hand has to be reviewed over and over again?" The sarcasm and strong jealousy in his tone were almost overflowing.

The feeling of being offended came back sharply, mixed with the grievances of the past few days and the resentment about the "investigation".

I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails almost dug into my palms. "Tsuchiya-kun, this is my training method. It has nothing to do with you."

"It has nothing to do with me?" Atobe's brows furrowed, his eyes filled with deeper anger. My cold attitude seemed to have hurt him. He frowned, "Kiyama! You..."

"Atobe!" Oshitari's voice interrupted like timely rain. He appeared at the doorway without anyone noticing. He walked over quickly and put his arm around Atobe's shoulders, his strength refusing to refuse. "Coach Sakaki wants to see you. It's urgent regarding the draw for the Metropolitan Conference!"

He half-pushed and half-pulled Atobe, who exuded a dangerous aura, out, and turned back to give me a "comforting" look.

I was the only one left in the dojo again.

I stood there, my body shaking slightly from the emotions I was suppressing.

The tit-for-tat exchange just now had drained the last bit of my pretense. The distrust I felt from being investigated, the sharp criticism from his unwarranted jealousy, and the uncertainty about the future of this naive relationship...

Like countless cold hands tearing at my heart.

The warmth of the study on a rainy night, the sweet fragrance of osmanthus on Valentine's Day, those cautious approaches and clumsy tenderness, the things that were once thought to be solid and tacit, turned out to be as fragile as colorful bubbles in the sun, which would shatter into pieces without a trace with a "pop" sound with a slight poke.

I wanted to rush out, grab him by the collar, and demand to know for sure: Why on earth are you investigating me? What do you think of me?

But my steps felt like they were filled with lead.

I'm scared.

I am afraid that after tearing off the veil, the truth I see will completely break my heart.

As night falls, the city's neon lights begin to come on.

My mind was in turmoil. I took Xiaokong out of the house and wandered aimlessly through the streets. The evening breeze blew on my face, carrying the lingering warmth of the day, but it couldn't dispel the gloom in my heart. I just wanted the hustle and bustle of the city to drown out my troubled thoughts.

Turning a corner, the bright lights and familiar sounds of a tennis court nearby caught my eye. I instinctively glanced over, and the moment I caught sight of the figure on the court, my heart skipped a beat and sank to a cold bottom.

Beside the tennis court, Atobe Keigo stood there, his tall figure outlined by the light.

Next to him stood a strange girl wearing a sports skirt and having pretty short hair.

Atobe's hand was holding the girl's wrist. He tilted his head slightly, with a smile I had never seen before on his face, a deliberately flamboyant and even somewhat frivolous one. His voice floated clearly through the night air:

"Hey, how about coming with me? I promise it'll be a lot more fun than playing with those boring guys."

boom--!

It was like a thunderclap exploding in my mind.

All the speculations, cold wars, and doubts about the investigation were instantly covered by the glaring scene before their eyes.

My heart felt like it was being gripped by an invisible hand, and it hurt so much that I couldn't breathe.

So... this is what he called "waiting"?

Is this his attitude after investigating me?

Am I the one he failed in his assessment?

The toughness honed by long martial arts training forcibly took over my body at this moment. I clenched my teeth, my jawline tense, and dug my nails into my palms, using the pain to suppress the soreness that threatened to burst out of my eyes and the lump in my throat.

You can't lose your composure, absolutely not in front of him.

I almost turned around and fled from this suffocating scene. However, the moment I moved, Atobe Keigo on the sidelines seemed to sense something and glanced over at me.

More than ten meters apart, through the bright lights of the tennis court and the night mist, our sights suddenly collided in the air.

The deliberately exaggerated smile on his face froze in an instant, and his pupils suddenly contracted, clearly reflecting my pale face and the unconcealable shock and pain in my eyes.

The fingers that were holding onto Ju Xing's wrist suddenly loosened as if they were burned.

"Kiyama..." He subconsciously took a step towards me, his lips moving slightly, as if he was eager to explain something.

Explanation? What else is there to explain?

Before he could say anything, I had already used all my strength to turn around.

The hand holding Xiaokong tightened unconsciously, causing Xiaokong to whimper.

I didn't even have the energy to soothe it. I just bit my lower lip tightly, forced myself to take a step forward, straightened my back, and stepped firmly and quickly into the neon-lit crowd and the night behind me, leaving him and the dazzling lights far behind.

The evening breeze in Tokyo in April is so cold that it pierces my bones.