Chapter 13: Lottery
"Zero short ball: 30.
Left arm stretch: 30 minutes.
High Leg Raises: 100 reps.
…”
Only after checking the box behind each training plan did Fengjian put down the record book, pick up electrolyte water and a towel and run into the field.
"Thanks."
Tezuka took it, covered his head with the towel, and walked to the side of the field to sit down. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the record book that the girl had placed on top. His eyes paused for a few seconds on the data on it before looking away. "You don't need to waste time memorizing this."
"That won't do," Feng Jian walked to his side, poked his left elbow lightly with the flat end of the pen, and asked, "Does it hurt?"
Tezuka shook his head, "It's fine."
"Based on previous data, you need to reduce the intensity of your snack chipping practice, otherwise you may cause excessive muscle strain."
"good."
Kazama lowered his head, circling and drawing in his notebook while checking his record book, and continued the previous topic, "Speaking of this, Sister Ling used to say, 'You should count every hair lost by the people you care about.'... Ah, President Tezuka, I didn't mean that your hair loss is more serious... No, your hair quality is very good, and there are no signs of hair loss."
Tezuka's left hand holding the electrolyte shook slightly, and a small amount of water spilled out and wet the notebook he placed beside him, blurring out the faint ink. He subconsciously raised his hand to hold down his trembling left arm, steadied it, and responded in a gentle voice.
Realizing that the more he explained, the more confused he became, Feng Jian simply gave in and pushed the light green thermal box next to him over. "Today's meal is corn and pork rib soup. I simmered it for two hours. It's really good for bone repair."
"Thank you, you... don't need to do this." Tezuka raised his head and looked at her steadily.
"There's an old Chinese saying that goes, 'Zhou Yu fights Huang Gai, one is willing to fight and the other is willing to be beaten.' Although the meaning is slightly different, if a person is willing to do something, then it means something to her." Fengjian tilted his head and smiled at him.
"After all, I want to go further with President Tezuka and everyone else."
Tezuka stared at her face, and suddenly heard a barely perceptible sigh from the bottom of his heart, but the corners of his lips couldn't help but rise up slightly, and his fingertips unconsciously stroked the outer wall of the thermal box.
He lowered his head and did not answer, but there was a silent understanding between them.
At this moment, his eyes suddenly fell on another blue and white insulation box that had been placed in the corner. Feng Jian followed his gaze, scratched his head and smiled:
"This is for another friend who is sick and in the hospital."
"……Um."
——
The next day is the lottery meeting.
Following the location sent to her by Chiba, Kazama finally arrived at the draw location for the Kanto Tournament preliminaries.
The venue was packed with people, and the buzzing noise vibrated in the dry and hot air. As soon as Fengjian entered the door, he was pulled aside by Chiba.
"We should stay away from this war between men," she said, looking up at the front desk and nodding. "Over there, President Tezuka just drew the lottery. I didn't expect to run into Hyotei in Seigaku's first match this year. It's really unlucky."
"Hyoei was the runner-up in last year's national competition. His strength should not be underestimated."
Kazama was startled. Following her gaze, he saw a group of students wearing gray-purple uniforms standing across from the Seigaku team. The elegantly designed, ice-blue school emblem shone like the sun. The boy at the front was talking to Tezuka.
Why do I feel that profile looks familiar?
"The one standing in the front is the captain of their Hyotei Academy tennis team, Atobe Keigo. He is an all-around strong attacker, but he still lost to our captain Tezuka last year." After saying the last sentence, Chiba raised his chin proudly.
The person who was talking in front sensed an unfriendly gaze, and turned his head with a sharp look. When he saw that there was nothing unusual, he retracted his gaze and looked at his opponent. However, Kazama had his head pressed down by Chiba a second before the other party looked at him.
"Tezuka, your team hasn't changed much this year, but except for you, everyone else in Seigaku is just so-so. It looks like this year's championship belongs to our Hyotei."
"Right, Kabaji?"
“Usu.”
"Atobe, don't be careless. My teammates are already prepared to advance to the national championship."
"Hi, hello, I'm Sengoku from Yamabuki Junior High School, and you must be Atobe from Hyotei, right?"
The ash-purple-haired boy raised an eyebrow and smiled, "It seems you have great confidence in your teammates. Then wait and see. I will defeat all of you in the Kanto Tournament, including you, Tezuka."
"Hi, I'm from Yamabuki Junior High..."
"I hope you can hold on a little longer in the arena. Let's go."
"These people from Bingdi are so arrogant, so arrogant..." Taocheng muttered to himself.
"It turns out that the only person who can be truly regarded as a rival by Hyotei's Atobe is Tezuka." Oishi sighed.
"We can expect very wrong data again this year."
Tezuka pushed his glasses up and said, "Focus on the ground!"
…
Cat Kazama was in the most remote corner, recording data in a log book, and he didn't notice the several figures passing by and suddenly turning back.
"I'm not surprised that Seigaku drew the worst luck." A gorgeous voice pierced my eardrums, and the tip of my pen suddenly stopped. "But..." Someone pointed at the "Hyotei vs. Seigaku" matchup with a tennis racket, "You wrote 'Di' as 'Di' here."
Feng Jian's face flushed. She had just finished helping Sister Ling move the vegetables last night and was so sleepy...
But this tone of emphasis sounds a bit familiar.
She looked up, and when she saw the face clearly, her eyes widened and she blurted out.
"Why is it you?"
Atobe Keigo stood in the shadows, his gray-purple hair shining under the overhead light. "I should be the one who's surprised, right? Ah well."
"The data is wrong, but it's a shame for the recorder. This is really..."
Before he finished speaking, Feng Jian had already taken up the conversation and spread his hands, "That's really unprofessional, isn't it?"
Atobe was stunned, and the corners of his lips curled up slightly, "It's really not gorgeous, right, Kabaji?"
“Usu.”
“…”
Some people these days say that if Sister Ling knew about the word "Gorgeous" being mentioned every day, she would definitely think that this kid has watched too many cartoons and thinks he is the prince of this world.
"So, may I ask what advice does this magnificent prince have?"
"Ah, what prince? I'm the king." Atobe glanced at her and swept his tennis racket across the record board as he turned around. "If you do it again next time, I'll show you how to write the 'Emperor' in Hyotei."
The minty scent from the collar passed by his nose, and Fengjian only felt the loose hair behind his ears sticking to his neck, and the sunlight was scorching and sticky.
"Hey, Kazama, do you know Atobe from Hyotei?" Momoshiro and others ran over.
"Someone who always calls himself an amateur every time we meet." She clenched her pen and wrote on the back of the sign-in sheet: "Fengjian April, if you make the mistake again, you'll be punished by copying the character 'Emperor' 100 times!"
In the distance, Inui Sadaharu pushed up his glasses, and a new line was added to his notebook: "Atobe Keigo's sensitivity to data errors: 98%, exploitable."
On the way back, Fengjian Siyue suddenly remembered something that she had seriously neglected. She pinched the edge of the record book with her fingertips, and the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood up.
"Chiba, the captain of Hyotei could be the president of the student council of Hyotei Academy, the young master of the Atobe Group who has the final say in Tokyo."
"yes."
It turned out that the person I bumped into at the convenience store that day was him.
What is it like to have a feud with the young master of the Atobe Group?
The most direct feeling was that in the evening, when Fengjian Siyue opened the door of the store, he saw a young man with ice-purple hair sitting in a private seat by the window. He wore a brand new Hyotei team uniform that gave off a high-end feel, with a coat draped over his shoulders. His narrow and long phoenix eyes inlaid with amethysts raised slightly when he saw people, and he said "ah-hmm" neither lightly nor heavily.
A few minutes later.
"Sayama tea?" Atobe Keigo glanced at the blue and white porcelain teacup served.
"Asking you to drink this kind of tea is really lowering your status," Kazama said unhappily. Suddenly, he remembered that the captain of Hyotei's tennis club was in the same grade as Tezuka-senpai, and was actually her senior. "...What could possibly bring you here, Atobe-senpai?"
Atobe took a sip and looked her straight in the eye: "Your reluctance is really not very elegant."
Fengjian Siyue glanced at the empty shop and sighed, "Senior Atobe, you won't let our previous disputes stop us from running our small business, right?"
She hadn't remembered that face when they first met. The young but powerful captain of Hyotei in front of her was going to be a rising star in Tokyo's business in the future. Although she had no interest in these things in her previous life, she couldn't stop her friends and colleagues from discussing them, and she also learned some anecdotes about him.
Atobe frowned, his face full of disdain, "I am not interested in that kind of thing."
"Matcha egg tarts are here."
The appearance of Sister Ling broke the deadlock between the two.
"Thank you." Atobe nodded politely to Sister Ling, which made her look sideways slightly.
"April, what are you doing here?" Sister Ling suddenly patted her forehead from behind. "Sit down and talk to your classmates. Why do you look like you want to chase them away?"
Noticing the tennis racket on the seat, Sister Ling smiled again and said, "Hey, you play tennis too. April is also the recorder of the tennis club..."
"Sister Ling, stop talking..." Feng Jian couldn't help but interrupt her.
Sister Ling glared at her, then turned around and put on a smiling face towards Atobe, "Then you guys chat, I'll prepare some refreshments..."
"No need to trouble you," the young man stood up and nodded slightly to Sister Ling, "Since the things have been delivered, I will take my leave first."
“No more sitting around”
"No need."
The street lights were wet by the rain, and the luxury car disappeared at the end of the wet road on the rainy night.
"Sister Ling, what were you talking about just now?"
"Here," Sister Ling took out a white envelope with a painting-like texture from behind the counter. "That young man was quite nice. He came over specially to give me an invitation."
Using a knife to cut the envelope open, Kazama took out the gold-stamped card inside. It had an ice-blue gradient background, a rose-gold border, and the Hyotei Student Council emblem on the back. In the center, the words "Atobe Keigo" were written in flowing handwriting. Like its owner, it exuded splendor everywhere.
"Hyotei Academy's cultural festival? Ling-jie, are you going?"
"Of course I'll go," Sister Ling agreed quickly. "The sponsorship fee they gave is higher than our sales in those few days."
"I've already thought about it. Remember to wear a nice skirt that day."
"...Does this have anything to do with the cultural festival?"
"It's a big deal. I heard that boys nowadays love to look at long legs. Your mother also had many suitors back then. Although you are a little bit inferior to your mother, at least you have my genes. And there are many rich people in Hyotei Academy..."
"Ahhh, Sister Ling, I told you to watch less melodramatic soap operas—"
Fengjian covered his ears and ran upstairs while shouting.
"You kid, don't run away before you finish talking. Don't you believe it..."
The only response she got was the door slamming shut.
The blazing white light outlined Sister Ling's thin figure, and her deliberately suppressed cough echoed for a long time in the empty living room.
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