Chapter 7 Fishing for a Younger Brother

Chapter 7: Reeling in the Little Brother

Bai Yingchuan curved his lips into a carefully calibrated smile and greeted his classmates warmly, "Hello everyone, I'm Bai Yingchuan. I'm here for the same reason as all of you—to prepare for the college entrance exams. It's an honor and a surprise that many of you already know me from films. I hope you’ll treat me as a fellow student, not a celebrity. Let’s work hard together."

Someone who could captivate thousands on the big screen naturally possessed exceptional features.

His smile was flawless, but nothing is truly perfect in this world.

Bai Yingchuan’s words made one thing clear: whether you were a rabid fan or a starry-eyed admirer, don’t bother me—I’m here to study, not to entertain you.

Teacher Wang scanned the room for a while before his gaze finally settled beside Lin Lu, where a student named Cai Ji was seated.

"Cai Ji, you seem to have sprouted up a bit. Why don’t you move back a row? Bai Yingchuan, you can take that seat."

Hearing the arrangement, Cai Ji froze for a moment before dropping his head without protest, gathering his textbooks and exercise sheets, and moving to the second-to-last row.

Bai Yingchuan walked down and, amidst everyone's stares, took the seat beside Lin Lu.

Meanwhile, Jiang Ruotang cocked his head slightly—but he wasn’t looking at Bai Yingchuan. His gaze was fixed on Cai Ji.

In his memory, Cai Ji was a decent student, though hopelessly lopsided in his subjects. He could score near-perfect marks in math and sciences, but his Chinese and English grades were dismal.

Teacher Wang taught Chinese. For someone like Cai Ji, who single-handedly tanked the class’s Chinese ranking out of the top three, Teacher Wang had once tried to turn things around. But after two years of no improvement, he had clearly given up on him.

Cai Ji’s hair was a light brown, slightly wavy, fluttering in the breeze when the window was open. His eyes weren’t particularly large but carried a gentle, quiet warmth. The only impression Jiang Ruotang had of him was that his smile was endearing.

Jiang Ruotang remembered what most of his classmates were doing ten years later—but strangely, he couldn’t recall anything about Cai Ji. It was as if the guy had fallen off the earth.

Lost in thought, he knit his brows.

Lin Lu suddenly leaned over, pressing a finger between Jiang Ruotang’s eyebrows. "Are you upset you didn’t get to sit next to Bai Yingchuan?" he whispered.

"No… I remember Cai Ji is nearsighted, right? Moving him back a row means he won’t see the board clearly."

Though Jiang Ruotang spoke softly, those nearby could still hear.

Lin Lu tugged at Jiang Ruotang’s sleeve, warning him to back off.

But Cai Ji heard Jiang Ruotang’s words. He lifted his head and smiled at him.

Obedient and sweet-natured… so sweet.

"Jiang Ruotang, you have time to worry about others? If Cai Ji can’t see the board, he can get glasses. But if your Summer homework isn’t done, that’s a different matter," Teacher Wang’s voice rang out behind Jiang Ruotang.

Jiang Ruotang’s shoulders jerked—as if Death itself had whispered to him.

Teacher Wang flipped through Jiang Ruotang’s pile of exercise sheets, only to find all the essays blank. A vein pulsed at his temple. "Stand in the back."

Without a word, Jiang Ruotang grabbed his papers and headed to the last row.

Cool as a cucumber, his demeanor only rubbed salt in Teacher Wang’s wound.

But Jiang Ruotang’s indifference stemmed from knowing he wouldn’t be the only one standing in the back. If enough people were punished, the punishment became meaningless.

Especially Zhao Changfeng—sure enough, he hadn’t written his essays either.

Originally, Zhao Changfeng had planned to stand as far from Jiang Ruotang as possible, but Jiang Ruotang tugged him over, and before he knew it, he was standing right beside him.

"What are you doing?" Zhao Changfeng growled.

"Hey, families should stick together," Jiang Ruotang stage whispered.

"Who’s family with you—" Zhao Changfeng cut himself off, finding Jiang Ruotang’s words weirdly intimate.

This guy was nothing but an entitled brat, always causing issues for his mom and Uncle Jiang. Because of Jiang Ruotang, Zhao Changfeng had even learned an English word—*troublemaker*.

"You don’t want to be family with me?" Jiang Ruotang kept his voice low, facing the front while barely moving his lips.

Zhao Changfeng ignored him, certain Jiang Ruotang was about to say something cutting, like, "You just want to marry into the Jiang family through your mom for a social upgrade."

Jiang Ruotang glanced at Zhao Changfeng and was surprised—had he always been this tall in high school?

He towered over everyone like a giraffe.

Broad shoulders, long legs—as an athlete recruit, he was different from the other students buried in textbooks. Even in his school uniform, the contours of his lean, well-defined muscles were faintly visible. With just the right body fat percentage, he’d be the type to have fans drooling in the entertainment industry.

No, no—he hadn’t been an agent for years. Why were his industry instincts kicking in?

From Jiang Ruotang’s angle, he had a clear view of Zhao Changfeng’s sharp jawline and the smooth curve of his neck emerging from his collar, radiating raw teenage vitality.

Truly, he hadn't appreciated athletes in his youth, foolishly wasting time on pretty faces instead!

As Teacher Wang went over the exercise sheets, Jiang Ruotang leaned over and whispered, "How tall are you? Over 185 cm?"

Zhao Changfeng ignored him.

"I’ve got a signed Reggie Miller basketball card. Chat with me, and I’ll trade it to you."

Zhao Changfeng paused. Jiang Ruotang, the die-hard Bai Yingchuan fan, actually knew about NBA legend Reggie Miller?

"Liar."

"Fine, forget it." Jiang Ruotang schooled his features and pretended to focus on the lesson.

He knew that after all the hurtful things he’d said before, the only reason Zhao Changfeng hadn’t slam-dunked his head into a basketball hoop was out of respect for Jiang Huaiyuan.

If he wanted to reconcile, he’d have to play the long game.

Fishing for a little brother required the right bait.

Zhao Changfeng’s preferences? Jiang Ruotang had learned them all in his past life. He refused to believe Zhao Changfeng wouldn’t bite!

When Teacher Wang flipped the exercise sheet and turned toward the blackboard, Zhao Changfeng finally grumbled barely audibly, "187."

It took Jiang Ruotang a moment to realize Zhao Changfeng had actually broken his silence.

"So… can you dunk?"

"...Have you never watched me play?" Zhao Changfeng frowned.

Translation: You’ve never seen my sick dunks?

"Ah, I’ll watch from now on. I’ll even make cheer signs and be your water boy, okay?"

"...Weirdo." Zhao Changfeng cut him a look. Why did this guy suddenly sound so different?

What game was he playing?

"So, how’s your three-pointer now?"

Conversation is all about playing to their interests, just like playing to the test's scoring system in an exam. Since Zhao Zhangfeng loves basketball, Jiang Ruotang talked to him about basketball.

In their senior year, if Zhao Zhangfeng wanted to pursue this path, Jiang Ruotang needed to know his current level and what to do next.

There was no more time to waste.

"Not bad. I can play both small forward and shooting guard." Zhao Zhangfeng finished with a self-deprecating chuckle. "Like you'd know."

Now Zhao Zhangfeng was actually impressed.

"I read some analysis saying that the NBA's been tightening its rules lately. To avoid collisions under the basket, many teams need players who can hit mid-range and three-point shots. That’s why I asked about your three-point shooting," Jiang Ruotang whispered.

"You even know that?"

"Yeah."

Actually, Zhao Zhangfeng had told him all this from their previous conversations during walks in the park near the hospital.

Just as Zhao Zhangfeng was about to say something, Teacher Wang turned around. Jiang Ruotang gave Zhao Zhangfeng's sleeve a light tug and covered his mouth with the test paper, with a quiet 'shh'.

Zhao Zhangfeng was downright shocked. He had thought Jiang Ruotang was trying to bait him into talking so he’d get scolded by Teacher Wang, but instead, he did the opposite?

What kind of new trick was this?

Twenty minutes of Morning Study Period passed, and the bell for the first class rang. Those standing in back as punishment could finally return to their seats.

As soon as Jiang Ruotang sat down, Lin Lu leaned over and asked with concern, "You okay? I saw you standing next to Zhao Zhangfeng—he didn’t bully you, did he?"

Zhao Zhangfeng, who had just taken his seat in the back, overheard and immediately scowled. *Me? Bully him?*

Zhao Zhangfeng was too tired to argue. For the sake of the sports card, he’d let Jiang Ruotang claim the sun rose at night if he wanted.

Jiang Ruotang glanced at Lin Lu. "No, I just chatted with Zhao Zhangfeng for a bit."

"Why would you chat with him? Don’t you remember how he was pushing a freshman around for money at the internet café the other day—"

Zhao Zhangfeng’s expression turned icy. He couldn’t care less to explain.

But Jiang Ruotang knew the truth—Zhao Zhangfeng had left his backpack by the basketball court while playing with friends, and that freshman had taken a sports team keychain hanging from it. Zhao Zhangfeng had just gone to get it back.

But because of his imposing height—the kid only came up to his neck—people spun it into a story about him bullying someone outside an internet café.

People believe anything they see.

Though Zhao Zhangfeng never defended himself, it ate at him.

That discomfort lingered throughout his entire senior year. Even years later, at a class reunion, someone still brought it up.

Jiang Ruotang leaned back against Zhao Zhangfeng’s desk.

"How does your plain-Jane life get blown up into such drama?"

Zhao Zhangfeng paused, then muttered, "Screw off."

"Then don’t lose your stuff. For someone your size, you get your things back, and people still turn it into some big thing."

Jiang Ruotang’s voice was just at that volume where those nearby could hear.

A classmate sitting on Jiang Ruotang’s other side leaned in without thinking and asked, "So he really just lost something? Everyone said he was bullying someone."

"Who spread that? My Sister Juan saw it herself when she passed the internet café on her way to buy groceries. Zhao Zhangfeng just asked that student to return his backpack keychain—a Lakers championship keychain from last season. My dad brought it back. Who the hell else at school would have one? Who’s that student anyway? Let’s see their proof of purchase if they’re so sure of themselves." Jiang Ruotang shot back.