Chapter Thirty-Four: Met Only Yesterday, Embracing Today?

Chapter Thirty-Four: Met Yesterday, Embracing Today?

Thud, thud, thud——

Tang Zhong kept his breathing calm, running lap after lap around the track at his own steady rhythm.

Unlike the noisy chaos of the day, when countless feet trampled the field, the early morning track was like a newborn baby or a sleeping maiden—quiet and fragile, making one fear that a heavy step might shatter their sweet dreams.

By the time Tang Zhong reached his third lap, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. There was no need to look; just from the footsteps, Tang Zhong already knew who it was.

She was here again!

As expected, she darted ahead of him with light, swift strides, then slowed down to maintain a distance—not too far, not too near—always running at her own pace, always keeping that gap between them.

Tang Zhong smiled, unconcerned. Having a slender, attractive girl leading the way could only spur him on.

Watching her long legs moving rapidly, her full, pert hips swaying from side to side—it was truly a sight to behold.

Jiao Nanxin was an independent girl; otherwise, she wouldn’t have traveled the country with a backpack before she was even of age, making the most of her holidays.

She had climbed many famous mountains, seen vast rivers, and with her companions, had challenged several “death zones” listed by National Geographic.

“I saw. I conquered.” She liked that saying from the little general.

Because of her “wild” hobby, she had built a remarkably strong physique. Getting up at six every morning for a run and boxing practice had become a daily ritual.

Originally, she thought that getting up so early, the track would be empty.

But on her first day out, she unexpectedly encountered a student who was out even earlier than she was. Judging by his appearance, he must’ve already run several laps.

Her competitive nature wouldn’t allow her to fall behind, so she quickly sprinted ahead of Tang Zhong.

She liked being first, she liked pushing her limits, she liked running in front of others—perhaps, one day, she’d enjoy sitting on top of others as well—

She wanted to lead, not to trail behind some guy.

And she wanted to exhaust that boy—if he insisted on keeping up.

She had full confidence in her stamina. She had no faith in those boys who spent their days reading novels and playing video games, neglecting any sort of exercise.

Moreover, Tang Zhong’s image, especially with those ugly thick glasses perched on his nose, was the very definition of a “shut-in.”

One lap, two laps, three laps—ten laps, eleven laps—

No matter how many laps she ran, that guy always remained behind her, neither too close nor too far, never giving up.

In the end, she was the one to falter.

She had spent so much time and energy running that she didn’t even have the strength to practice her “Mighty Fist,” the set of moves she used for self-defense—it was simply beyond her today.

Today, Jiao Nanxin decided to change her strategy.

When she reached the tenth lap, she stopped. Then, walking to the center of the field, she assumed a stance and began practicing her punches.

The “Mighty Fist” was taught to her by one of her father’s old comrades, whom she called Uncle Zhen. It was his family’s secret art.

The moves were fierce, powerful, and highly aggressive—hence the name “Mighty Fist.”

Most girls wouldn’t care for something so violent and ungraceful, but Jiao Nanxin was captivated by it.

After much practice, she’d actually made some progress. Once, during a backpacking trip, a black fellow traveler tried to sneak into her tent and ended up with his face bloodied and begging for mercy.

“He probably can’t do this,” Jiao Nanxin thought to herself.

As expected, Jiao Nanxin’s movements caught Tang Zhong’s attention.

He stopped, standing on the track, watching from afar as the girl leapt and punched, looking every bit the whirlwind.

Her skin was a sun-kissed brown, her eyes spirited and fierce. When she unleashed such commanding moves, she looked undeniably cool.

After finishing her set, she crooked a finger at Tang Zhong.

He glanced around. It was still early; the track was deserted except for the two of them.

When a woman acts cute for no reason, she either wants to borrow money or borrow your strength.

Tang Zhong ignored her, turning to continue his run.

“Hey,” Jiao Nanxin called.

Tang Zhong turned back.

“Coward,” she declared scornfully.

Tang Zhong stopped, walked onto the field, stood in front of her, and said, “This set of moves is fierce and powerful, but it’s not suitable for girls—no matter how hard you try, you’ll always be limited by your physique and won’t reach maximum damage.”

Jiao Nanxin was startled.

That’s exactly what Uncle Zhen had said when she begged to learn the Mighty Fist. But after much pestering, he had relented, thinking she’d soon lose interest. Who would’ve thought she’d stick with it for so many years?

“Such a discerning eye—are you skilled yourself?” Jiao Nanxin didn’t bother to refute him. If he was right, he was right; she wouldn’t deny it.

But Tang Zhong’s comment had roused her combative spirit. She now regarded him with a challenging gaze.

Tang Zhong waved his hand and said, “I’m only good with words; when it comes to actual moves, I know nothing.”

Jiao Nanxin didn’t believe him. “You run so well—you must have some training. Whether you know martial arts or not, men are stronger than women, aren’t they? Come on, let’s spar a little.”

Tang Zhong shook his head. “If it’s just brute force, I’d only get beaten up by you. Even if your moves can’t do maximum damage, you could take on three or five men at once. I have no quarrel with you, so don’t bully me—if you don’t want me following you when you run, I’ll go elsewhere. If you like to run in peace, I’ll find another track.”

“You—” Jiao Nanxin was furious. She’d hoped he’d be provoked into fighting her, not retreat so meekly.

Tang Zhong waved her off. “I’ve got two more laps. See you.”

With that, he turned to leave.

Jiao Nanxin bit her lip and shouted from behind, “Watch out for my punch!”

She deliberately shouted first to warn Tang Zhong.

Then she lunged, throwing a punch at his back.

Tang Zhong spun around a full one-eighty, responding with a punch of his own—

Jiao Nanxin only saw his fist growing larger, drawing closer to her face—

Bang—

A sharp pain shot through her left eye, and she couldn’t open it.

“Ah—” she cried out.

Her body, mid-leap, crashed heavily to the ground, prompting another cry of pain.

“Are you alright?” Tang Zhong rushed over, looking at the girl sprawled on the grass.

Jiao Nanxin didn’t respond, her face buried in the grass, her body trembling.

“Hey—” Tang Zhong apologized, “I didn’t do it on purpose. It was just a reflex—when you shouted, I thought you were right behind me, I didn’t expect—”

Still, Jiao Nanxin gave no answer. Her entire face was buried in the grass, only her body shaking.

“Let me help you up?” Tang Zhong reached out to her shoulder, trying to pull her off the grass.

“Don’t touch me!” Jiao Nanxin shouted.

“There’s dew on the grass, you’ll catch a chill if you stay there.” Tang Zhong insisted, pulling her up. For a moment, his expression shifted, but quickly returned to normal.

“Are you alright?” he asked with concern.

“I’m fine,” Jiao Nanxin growled through clenched teeth. This is what he called knowing nothing about martial arts? Who else could spin and land a punch like that?

“Can you walk?” Tang Zhong asked.

Jiao Nanxin refused his help, trying to rise on her own, but the moment she moved her lower leg, a stabbing pain shot through her.

“Damn.” Her face changed; she’d twisted her calf.

“Are you hurt?” Tang Zhong asked carefully.

Jiao Nanxin glared at him, murderous, jaw clenched, saying nothing.

“I’ll take you back,” Tang Zhong squatted down, gesturing for her to climb onto his back.

Jiao Nanxin didn’t move.

Was he kidding? She’d never been that close to a man in her life.

Thinking she was embarrassed, Tang Zhong turned, scooped her into his arms, and carried her princess-style.

“What are you doing?” Jiao Nanxin shouted.

“Taking you back,” Tang Zhong replied. “It’s still early; no one’s around. If you keep yelling, I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”

Jiao Nanxin thought about it and realized this was the only option, so she quietly gave him her dorm number.

Being carried in the arms of a strange man, Jiao Nanxin felt completely ill at ease.

She thought, those TV love dramas are all lies.

Where was that electric jolt? If anything, she just had goosebumps.

The dormitory matron was busy tidying up and had her back turned as Tang Zhong hurried past the window.

With Jiao Nanxin’s directions, he quickly reached the third floor and nudged open the dorm room with his foot.

A girl in a red, sexy nightdress looked up sleepily. Seeing a man enter, she screamed, “Ah—pervert!”

Her shriek woke the other two roommates, who stared at Tang Zhong in shock and clutched their blankets to their chests.

Jiao Nanxin, flustered, lifted her head from Tang Zhong’s arms and stammered, “Xixi, it’s me.”

The three girls were dumbfounded.

The girl called Xixi exclaimed, “Nanxin, you two are moving fast! Met yesterday and hugging today?”

“No, it’s not what you think,” Jiao Nanxin hurried to explain. “I hurt my leg. He’s just helping me back.”

Tang Zhong gave an awkward smile, placed Jiao Nanxin on her bed, and said, “Rest well. I’ll be going now.”

Not waiting for Jiao Nanxin to say anything, he dashed out of the girls’ dorm.

“Nanxin—your eye—” Xixi asked cautiously.

“What’s wrong with my eye?” Jiao Nanxin grabbed a mirror, looked, and cursed loudly, “Tang Zhong, you bastard—”

In the mirror, her lovely, lively eye was now a purplish-red, looking just like a panda.

(P.S.: I have some matters to attend to today, so only two chapters. Please forgive me.)