I managed to peacefully idle my way through the morning training session. Had Coach Hu been there, there was no way he would’ve let me just sit it out. Even if I told him my leg was snapped in half, he would’ve just pushed a wheelchair over with a smile and told me to get rolling. Comparing the two, I couldn't help but feel that sometimes, a human was worse than an AI.
The rest of the team seemed to sense that while the new captain wasn't much of a talker, he still possessed a shred of human compassion. The atmosphere in the locker room after training was unusually cheerful. As I fixed my hair and headed for the door, Ling Xiao leaned against the frame, blocking my path with his foot.
"Coming with me?" he asked.
I nodded without a second thought. Just then, that clumsy oaf Gao Dapang came charging up from behind and slammed into me. I stumbled forward, barely catching my phone before it hit the floor. Dapang threw an arm around my shoulder. "Come on, let's go grab some food!"
"Can't. Ling—" I gestured toward Ling Xiao, who was waiting by the elevator. "The Captain wants me to go with him."
"Go with him? Where?" Gao Dapang asked, bewildered.
I paused. Come to think of it, I actually had no idea.
Dapang’s face immediately filled with disdain, as if to say, *You don't even know where he's taking you, and you're just following him like a lost puppy?*
The elevator doors opened. Ling Xiao looked back at me. I patted Dapang on the shoulder and hurried over. As the doors slid shut, I saw Dapang rolling his eyes at me, and I felt a pang of frustration I couldn't quite voice. *It’s not like that, Dapang,* I thought. *I’m the one who likes him. I’m the one trying to get close to him. I’m the one who humiliated him on the strip, so it’s only right that I humble myself a little now.*
I turned to Ling Xiao. "Where are we going?"
"The fifth floor," he said.
"Oh." I pressed the button for the fifth floor, though I couldn't fathom why we were going up instead of down to eat.
The moment we arrived, it clicked. The fifth floor was the infirmary. I had completely forgotten about my sprained ankle. Dr. Liu was busy paying for a delivery order. When he turned and saw us, his expression turned peculiar.
"He twisted his ankle. Take a look at it," Ling Xiao said. "He has high-intensity training this afternoon."
Dr. Liu gave my foot a cursory glance and sprayed some medicine on it, declaring that a sprain of this degree was no big deal. Having said his piece, he couldn't wait to dive into his takeout.
"But it still hurts, Doctor," I said to the quack.
"Of course it hurts. Even a common cold takes seven days to clear up. Just be careful during training. Avoid anything that puts too much load on that foot. Massage it often, use hot compresses, and it’ll get better in a few days. You think dousing it in medicine is always a good thing? ...Ooh, seafood risotto from Meixiang Mansion. Smells good, doesn't it?"
I pulled my foot back. "It’s hard to massage. It hurts to lift my leg, and it’s exhausting to reach."
The quack replied, "I didn't say you had to do it yourself. Get someone else to do it." He gave Ling Xiao a meaningful look before turning back to me. "How are you supposed to massage it yourself? It's not like you have tentacles."
"Oh," I said with exaggerated disappointment. "Someone else has to do it? Never mind then. There’s no one else here."
Ling Xiao, standing by the door, let out a heavy sigh. He walked over, pulled up a stool by the bed, and lifted my foot onto his lap. "How do I massage it?"
The quack showed him the technique.
If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed that the person sitting before me, head bowed as he rubbed my ankle, was actually Ling Xiao. Either the infirmary was some kind of sacred ground for romance, or Coach Hu had made a brilliant choice for captain—once the title was bestowed upon him, Ling Xiao had apparently toggled into "Captain (Nanny) Mode."
Ling Xiao kept his eyes down, only occasionally asking, "Tell me if it hurts."
I replied tearfully, "Captain, thank you. You really are a great captain!"
He ignored me completely. But an AI was an AI—a masterpiece of human wisdom and culture. Even his massages were perfect; the rhythm and pressure were just right, far better than any tentacle. More importantly, those were the hands of a swordsman! How could some ugly tentacle compare to the hands of a fencer?
Dr. Liu stepped out to take a call. The massage was making me drowsy. I let out a yawn and leaned against the headboard, only to hear Ling Xiao say, "Say something."
"Huh?!" I sat bolt upright like a startled fish.
Ling Xiao still didn't look up. "Say something. Otherwise, this is weird."
He had a point. The infirmary was empty, the sunlight was perfect, and we were quietly engaged in a massage. The atmosphere was getting a bit... ambiguous.
"I'll tell you a joke then," I suggested.
"Is it funny?"
Talk about picky! "That depends on the audience," I said. "For you, I’m not sure what level of humor works. I’ll have to test it out."
Ling Xiao nodded. "Test away."
I felt like a royal tutor entertaining the Crown Prince. I began, "Once upon a time, three little pigs built three little houses to hide from the Big Bad Wolf. They were—"
"Next one."
"What?"
"Next one. I've heard it."
I didn't believe him. "When did you hear it? This isn't the fairy tale; it’s my own original version!"
"Regardless, I've heard it, and it isn't funny. Next."
I felt dejected, but fine, I'd switch. Suddenly, an idea struck me. "Wait. What do I get if I actually make you laugh?"
Ling Xiao stopped and looked up at me. "What do you want?"
Sunlight streamed through the window behind me, filling the room like a pool of clear watercolor. In that pale, egg-white light, everything became incredibly sharp, as if I were looking at the world through a microscope. Yet, this did nothing to diminish Ling Xiao's beauty. I found the sight of his eyebrows and eyelashes—each hair distinct, graceful, and elegant—enough to make my heart skip a beat.
If I didn't act like a bit of a rogue now, my time on the national team would be wasted. "Then... if I make you laugh, you have to massage my foot for a week?"
I had intended for it to be a cool, casual statement, but my courage failed me at the last second, and it came out as a timid question. This was the first time in my life I’d ever tried to flirt, and doing it with a guy made me a little self-conscious. Seeing Ling Xiao's unreadable expression, I gave a dry cough. "It’s mostly because your technique is so good. I’m afraid if I let Lao Qi or Dapang do it, they’ll use it as an excuse for revenge and ruin my leg!"
I didn't dare look at Ling Xiao, so I stared affectionately at my own foot instead. Then, I heard him speak. "A week is too long. Your foot won't take a week to recover."
"Five days then?"
"Three. Go ahead."
He went back to kneading my foot. He was like a master negotiator! Talking to him was like interacting with a computer dialog box—it asked the questions, and I only got to click 'Yes' or 'No.'
What joke should I tell? I leaned back against the soft pillow. I had to test the waters first; I couldn't use my trump card right away.
"What was the first 3D surround sound song you ever heard?" I asked.
Ling Xiao: "Drop the Handkerchief."
"..." I stared at him, mouth agape. *I* was supposed to give that answer, not him!
Man, this guy was hard to crack. For every joke I tried, he either guessed the punchline or told me it was for three-year-olds. Honestly, would a three-year-old even get my jokes? I wasn't having it. I told him I'd tell him one that a three-year-old definitely wouldn't understand.
"I'm all ears."
So calm. Let's see if you stay that way!
"Four guys decided to send a birthday text to a female friend. They wanted it to be special, so Guy A suggested they send the phrase 'Happy Birthday'—four characters in Chinese. Each of the four guys, A, B, C, and D, would send one character. But when the birthday arrived, the other three forgot. Only Guy B sent his. He sent the character 'Ri'!"
(Note: In Chinese, 'Ri' means 'day' but is also common slang for 'fuck.')
After the dirty joke landed, Ling Xiao let go of my foot and looked up at me.
I was smug. "Well? A three-year-old wouldn't get that, right?"
"What kind of things do you usually watch?"
"Nothing much. Just my phone, my computer... the usual." Halfway through, my eyes lit up. "Hey! You smiled!"
Ling Xiao's face instantly returned to its icy state, destroying the evidence with lightning speed. "I was not laughing at your joke."
"Oh? Then what were you laughing at? This bed? The window? This glass of water? Or this pillow?" I picked up the pillow. "Hey, don't tell me—this pillow *is* pretty funny-looking. It’s even got a waist!"
Ling Xiao remained blunt. "Three days."
"Deal! Three days!" I tossed the prop pillow back. "Massage my foot every night. Thanks a lot!"
"I have something to do tomorrow night. I won't be at the base."
"That's fine. I'll come find you earlier tomorrow so you can do it then."
Ling Xiao sighed. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a rascal?"
"Of course! My mom used to say I was raised on being a rascal!" I stared at his half-smile. "Come on, if you want to laugh, just laugh. Why hold it in?"
"I don't want to laugh."
"Then is the corner of your mouth just itchy? Want me to scratch it for you?"
I made a move to raise my hand, but I was only joking; I didn't actually have the guts to do it. To my surprise, as my hand got close, Ling Xiao caught my wrist with lightning speed. Holy crap, he was strong! I let out a pained "Ow!"
Only then did Ling Xiao let go. "That's enough."
I was still a little afraid of him, so I nodded quickly, rubbing my wrist with lingering fear.
Then we went back to the quiet massage—him rubbing my foot, me rubbing my hand. I was just starting to enjoy this peaceful time of admiring a handsome man without interruption when Ling Xiao suddenly said, "Done."
"Huh? It's over already?"
My tone was accidentally a bit too disappointed. Ling Xiao gave me a scrutinizing look. "Dr. Liu said ten minutes. Time's up." He stood up. "Let's go."
Ten short minutes left me wanting more, but overall, I was very satisfied. I had this feeling that he wasn't actually that unreachable. If I worked hard enough, I might actually be able to catch him.
...Wait, not *catch* him like that. I meant catch up to him!
***
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Point to Point: The Fencer’s Heart | Chapter 18 | A Three-Day Wager | Novela.app | Novela.app
