Chapter 65 Basketball Match

Chapter 65: The Basketball Game

Zhang Yuantao didn’t go home that night, staying over in a guest room at Shang Shaohao’s villa.

Cheng Feng followed Shang Shaohao into the master bedroom to help him wash up.

Shang Shaohao leaned back in the warm bathtub, scrolling through his phone while Cheng Feng dried him off with a towel.

Suddenly, he tapped open a video and held the phone up for Cheng Feng to see, lowering his voice with a playful, teasing lilt:

“Check this out—Zhang Yuantao just sent it to me.”

Puzzled, Cheng Feng leaned in. The moment his eyes landed on the screen, his cheeks flushed crimson.

In the video, a man and a woman were naked in each other’s arms, engaged in deeply indecent acts. Lewd panting and moans blared from the speaker—loud, jarring, and unmistakable.

He quickly lowered his head, refusing to look any further.

Noticing his reaction, Shang Shaohao let out a low chuckle. “Why are you blushing? As if you’ve never secretly watched this kind of thing before.”

Cheng Feng stammered, genuinely flustered: “Y-Young Master, you really shouldn’t watch such obscene material—it’s explicitly banned by the state. Watching too much harms both mind and body, damages your health, and can even lead to kidney deficiency. You’re still young—you shouldn’t be touching this at all.”

Shang Shaohao: “...”

He rolled his eyes and snapped irritably, “Sounding like some old-fashioned pedant. If men don’t watch this, how are they supposed to deal with their urges? Are you saying you’re not a real man?”

At those words, Cheng Feng’s face burned even deeper—nearly scarlet. It wasn’t that he lacked physical needs, but he’d never relied on such things for relief. Immersing himself in reading was enough—the thoughts would gradually fade.

The sounds from the phone kept coming, lewd and insistent, worming their way into his ears. Cheng Feng felt his cheeks and earlobes burn fiercely, as though every drop of blood in his body had ignited.

“Young Master, turn it off—please stop watching. Go to bed early; you have school tomorrow.”

Shang Shaohao stubbornly refused, continuing to watch purely out of contrariness. Yet as he did, his own ears began to flush faintly. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he muttered under his breath:

“That woman looks hot. Wonder where to find girls like her.”

Hearing this, Cheng Feng frowned slightly. Boys were all like this—even little boys thought this way. Men truly were creatures ruled by their baser instincts. Seeing Shang Shaohao still glued to the screen, he said nothing more—and simply reached out and snatched the phone away.

“That’s enough, Young Master. If Eldest Young Master catches you with this, you’ll definitely get a beating. Besides, you have classes tomorrow—the longer you watch, the more unsettled your mind will become.”

Having his phone seized, Shang Shaohao’s chest tightened with frustration. The faint heat stirred by the video had been entirely scattered by Cheng Feng, leaving only a smoldering, directionless anger—and a deep sense of grievance and helplessness.

“Get out! I don’t need you to wash me anymore! Go sleep by yourself if you want—I’m not tired yet!”

Cheng Feng didn’t leave. He placed the phone well out of Shang Shaohao’s reach, ignored the boy’s fury, and patiently wiped the water droplets from his body, helped him into his pajamas, and gently—but firmly—guided him onto the bed.

Shang Shaohao gritted his teeth in silent rage, utterly powerless to stop him.

Cheng Feng sat quietly on the chair beside the bed, keeping watch until the breathing from the bed gradually steadied and the boy fell fast asleep. Only then did he rise silently and slip out of the villa.

Back in the servants’ quarters, Cheng Feng headed straight for the bathroom to shower. Warm water cascaded over him—but it couldn’t quell the burning deep in his bones; his entire body still felt feverish.

The impact of that video had been too great—lingering, stubborn, unshakable.

The ambiguous sounds replayed again and again in his mind; the images refused to fade.

His sexual orientation was clearly toward men—but bodily instincts couldn’t be denied. Whether male or female, pornographic material would provoke a physical response in any healthy man.

That night, Cheng Feng forced himself to calm down.

He sat at his desk, pulled out his phone to review English vocabulary, memorized key points for Chinese literature, read selections of outstanding essays—forcing himself, word by word, to steady his mind.

It wasn’t until 2:30 a.m. that the lingering heat finally subsided, and exhaustion washed over him completely. Only then did he close his eyes and sleep.

Before drifting off, he vowed to himself: from now on, he would never touch anything—even remotely related to pornography—ever again.

It was too tormenting.

That sensation of being torn between reason and instinct—he never wanted to experience it again. He’d nearly driven himself mad.

The next morning, as Cheng Feng threw off the covers, he saw he’d had another wet dream. He sighed—and an absurd thought actually crossed his mind: he really wanted to find someone to satisfy his physical needs.

He took a deep breath and shook his head vigorously. He couldn’t think about such messy things anymore.

During morning classes, he was so exhausted his eyelids kept drooping—he nearly dozed off at his desk. He had to pinch the flesh on his arm to stay awake.

Beside him, Shang Shaohao didn’t care at all—head down on the desk, sleeping soundly, impossible to rouse no matter how many times he was nudged. Cheng Feng knew he must have stayed up late secretly after he’d left the night before.

That evening, Cheng Feng truthfully reported Shang Shaohao’s repeated sleeping in class to Eldest Young Master Shang Xu.

After listening, Shang Xu looked up at Cheng Feng—and immediately noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes. In a low, grave voice, he asked: “Cheng Feng, what exactly did you do last night? Did you stay up late too?”

Cheng Feng, ever sensitive and reserved, remained silent for a long time. How could he possibly tell Shang Xu he’d watched porn, struggled with his physical reaction, and couldn’t sleep?

Shang Xu pressed him again. Knowing he couldn’t hide it from the Eldest Young Master—and fearing wage deductions—he dared not conceal it any longer. He recounted everything honestly: staying up late playing games the previous night, and Shang Shaohao watching the pornographic video.

Shang Xu’s expression darkened. He gave Cheng Feng earnest instructions:

“Cheng Feng, at your age, don’t waste energy thinking about making money from gaming. Once you enter university, you can play as much as you like—and earn however much you want from games. As for those pornographic videos—you’re both still far too young. You absolutely must not touch them.

Watching too much of that stuff harms both mind and body—and you won’t be able to concentrate in class.

From now on, if Shang Shaohao plays games for more than an hour, smash his phone. If he watches that kind of video again—smash it too. And if he dares to lash out at you, call me immediately—no matter the time.”

Cheng Feng was stunned.

He hadn’t expected the Eldest Young Master to guess his thoughts about earning money from gaming. How did he know *everything*? It was as if he had a worm inside his belly, reading his mind.

From then on, whenever Shang Shaohao kept playing games obsessively and refused to study, Cheng Feng really did smash one of his phones.

At that moment, Shang Shaohao had been deep in a game. The instant his phone shattered, he exploded in rage—ready to fight Cheng Feng on the spot—and even kicked out at him. Luckily, Cheng Feng reacted swiftly and dodged.

Without another word, Cheng Feng immediately dialed Shang Xu’s number.

After that incident, Shang Shaohao behaved impeccably.

He never dared to play games for more than an hour again—or watch that kind of video in front of Cheng Feng.

Even if he watched secretly at night—Cheng Feng wouldn’t be monitoring him then, so he wouldn’t know—judging by Shang Shaohao’s relatively energetic demeanor during daytime classes, it was clear he was no longer staying up late gaming in secret.

A month flew by in a flash—and the basketball game arrived.

Their team had selected five players—all the coach’s top picks, the most outstanding members.

Cheng Feng, Li Anmo, and three other teammates—all tall, powerfully built boys.

During this period, Cheng Feng ate well, slept sufficiently, and trained rigorously every day—growing slightly taller once more, his entire physique becoming stronger and more robust.

The team wore matching uniforms: bright red basketball jerseys—vibrant, bold, and full of spirit.

The game wasn't held at the school's basketball gym, but at the school's dedicated sports arena.

This time, they were up against a basketball team from a prestigious university.

The opposing players weren't from aristocratic families, but they were all the star basketball players at their school.

Before the match, the coach called the five players over for a pep talk. His gaze settled on Cheng Feng, and he said earnestly:

"Cheng Feng, you're crucial to the team—grabbing loose balls and defense rely on you to hold the line. In this game, all five of you must remember the tactics I taught you. Don't lose your composure. We have to win this time—we can't let those old-timers mock our elite school for being weak at basketball."

The five nodded vigorously in unison: "Yes, Coach!"

The coach extended his hand, palm facing down.

Li Anmo was the first to place his hand on the coach's, and Cheng Feng quickly followed suit. The remaining three teammates piled their hands on top one by one.

Six hands pressed together as they chanted in unison:

"Let's go! Let's go!"

The arena for the game was huge, its layout somewhat resembling the Bird's Nest. The surrounding stands were packed to capacity.

Not only were there students and school leaders from both schools, but also many parents who had come to watch the game.