The Concubine and I agreed to meet on the afternoon of the match, but to my surprise, I saw him at noon—right there at the Dazishan Base.
The fencing team had just finished training and was heading downstairs for lunch when a young man in a pink-and-white short-sleeved shirt started waving and shouting enthusiastically from a distance. The scene was quite the head-turner. I heard someone whistle nearby. "Who’s the sissy?"
I immediately squared my shoulders and puffed out my chest, declaring with heroic fearlessness, "He’s my friend. Got a problem with that?"
The line of people at the main gate shook their heads in unison, signaling they had no objections.
I nodded with satisfaction. When you’re friends with a guy like him, you have to be prepared to protect him at a moment's notice.
The Concubine told me he had signed up for the fencing club. He claimed he wanted to forget his past and start over, using the power of sports to temper his body and mind. And the reason he chose fencing, of all things, was actually because of me.
"I was debating between swimming and boxing, but since I’m your fan, I obviously had to choose fencing! Consider it my way of helping you expand your sport's grassroots following. Don't worry, I’ll be sure to recommend it to everyone!"
His words reminded me that the Dazishan Base had originally been a fencing club. The national team was sequestered in the new training hall, while the club continued its business as usual in the old hall. The thought of him practicing fencing with his pinky finger daintily curled gave me a headache. I thought to myself: *Please, don't. You’re practically a jinx for the sport. If you 'recommend' a whole platoon of guys like you to learn fencing, will this sport even have a future in this country?*
The Concubine suddenly started winking and gesturing toward someone behind me. I turned around and saw Ling Xiao walking out of the main gate. He glanced our way, then turned and walked off. I looked down to see the Concubine intimately hooking his arm through mine. I wasn't sure if I should show some backbone and shake him off, but in the blink of an eye, Ling Xiao had vanished. If I were to put on a performance of integrity, I wouldn't even have an audience.
***
In the afternoon, after my training ended and the Concubine finished his first session of learning basic stances in the old hall, we met at the gate. To my surprise, he had driven a Mini Cooper. *Impressive, my dear Concubine.* Didn't he used to drive a little VW Polo?
"I borrowed this from my gay bestie. We can't lose face going to a place like that!" The Concubine said, looking me up and down with a look of utter disdain. "Did you bring the money I told you to?"
I nodded honestly. "Brought my entire net worth."
The Concubine didn't take me straight to Fushan Villa. Instead, he took me to buy clothes first, dressing me in a particularly flashy outfit. I stood before the mirror wearing a military-green camo T-shirt and a black jacket, topped off with a pair of massive black oversized sunglasses. The more I looked, the more I resembled a giant green-headed fly.
"Well? Trendy enough for you?"
I couldn't believe he had the nerve to ask. I didn't know what to say, but since it had come to this, I only had one request: "Can I swap the green shirt for the yellow one?"
The Concubine was puzzled but agreed. Once I changed, I looked at myself in the mirror and felt slightly better. At least now I looked like a bumblebee.
***
On the surface, Fushan Villa looked the same as always, except for the frequent flow of luxury cars in and out of the driveway. The underground matches were held in the villa's basement. According to the Concubine, the basement had originally been designed for the owner to host parties, complete with an underground pool and a wine cellar. Since it was being used for matches now, it had naturally been renovated. Regardless, the space was much larger than I had imagined.
Photography was strictly prohibited, and everyone had to surrender their phones before entering. Though the spectators were all dressed to the nines, most were just there for entertainment and a thrill. In their eyes, underground fencing wasn't much different from underground boxing; they were mostly here for the novelty. However, there were also some genuine fencing enthusiasts in the crowd. The Concubine’s suggestion to wear sunglasses turned out to be quite thoughtful; I was always active on social media, and there was a real chance someone might recognize me.
The "ring" was set in the center, surrounded by spectator seating on all four sides. However, the ring was far from what I had imagined. It wasn't a fifteen-meter piste, but a square platform—essentially a boxing ring with the ropes removed. It was less than ten meters long but much wider than a regulation piste. This meant the competitors couldn't just move forward and backward; it added many variables to the offense, and of course, the danger factor increased exponentially.
There was a betting station by the entrance. I checked the real-time odds posted on the board. This match was "Chainsaw" versus "Knight," and the odds were neck-and-neck. The Concubine whispered to me, "The competitors don't use their real names. Your guy’s alias is 'Knight.'"
"How chuunibyou..." I thought to myself, *Why not just call yourself Zorro?* To avoid losing face, I had already spent a fortune on this bumblebee outfit; there was no way I wasn't betting on Ling Xiao to win. With a grand gesture, I prepared to swipe my card. I only had about five hundred yuan left in my account, but since Ling Xiao wouldn't lose, I figured I’d go all in. To my surprise, this only elicited a round of snickers from the people around me. I looked back, confused, and saw the Concubine wiping sweat from his brow. A beautiful woman nearby laughed and said, "Are you serious, handsome? Five hundred on the Knight?"
The man in charge of the bets also gave me a look of pure condescension. "The wager is too small. We don't accept it."
The woman kindly informed me, "The minimum bet here is one thousand."
Can you imagine the embarrassment of handing over your card only to have to take it back in shame? Luckily, I was wearing my bumblebee sunglasses; otherwise, how could I ever face my eighty thousand—no, wait, it was ninety thousand now—followers on Weibo?
I fumbled through my wallet to see how much cash I had left when a male voice spoke up from beside me. "I'll cover the rest for him."
The voice was like a magnet. *No way,* I thought. I looked up and, sure enough, saw that sharp-featured, mixed-race face.
It was actually Li Rui? What a coincidence to meet down here in the "underworld."
After bailing me out, Li Rui only gave me a small smile, seemingly having no intention of striking up a conversation. I quickly called out to him, "President Li, leave me your contact info so I can pay you back!"
"No need. If the Knight performs well, I’ll win back several times this amount in a single night." He nodded at me and walked away, still perfectly poised and elegant, making it impossible to feel any ill will toward him.
With a complex mix of resentment toward the rich and admiration for them, I returned to my seat. I asked the Concubine, "How much longer until the match starts?"
"About twenty minutes. Why? What are you doing?"
"Every time a football match is about to start, I have to pee..."
***
I asked the Concubine for directions to the restroom. When I came out, I realized the hallway directly opposite the restroom was the athlete's preparation area. Originally, I had planned to head back as soon as I finished my business, but I happened to see the security guard outside that hallway step away for a moment. By the time I snapped out of it, I had already wandered into the athlete's zone.
There was a turn in the hallway that was relatively quiet. As I rounded the corner, I heard a male voice speaking arrogantly: "I was absent last season, and I heard you made a clean sweep? I've wanted to fight you for a long time, you pale-faced cat."
I followed the sound. In the hallway, a tall man was blocking the path. This must be Chainsaw. He was wearing a black tank top, his back and arms corded with lean muscle. He didn't look like a fencer; he looked more like a Muay Thai fighter. He had a significant height advantage, too. I’m 185cm, and Ling Xiao is a bit taller, probably 187cm, but this guy had to be at least 190cm.
Chainsaw shifted slightly, and I saw Ling Xiao, who was being cornered. He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and black-rimmed glasses, with a black backpack slung over one shoulder. Compared to Chainsaw, he looked like a frail scholar. Chainsaw was slightly hunched, resembling a gnarled, ghostly tree, while Ling Xiao stood like a pine or a poplar no matter where he was. The contrast between the two was striking. But it was undeniable that for certain people with sadistic tendencies, the more noble and untouchable someone looked, the more it triggered their urge to mistreat them.
Chainsaw suddenly asked with a hint of suspicion, "I feel like I've seen you somewhere before?"
"You're mistaken."
Ling Xiao tried to move past him to return to the locker room, but Chainsaw provocatively blocked his path.
The announcer's voice could be heard warming up the crowd outside. Ling Xiao glanced toward the corridor. "If you don't move, I'm calling security."
Chainsaw laughed loudly. "You need security to make me move? How are you going to beat me in the ring?"
Ling Xiao ignored him and dialed his phone. "Please send someone over. There's someone causing trouble here."
Security arrived quickly. Chainsaw clearly hadn't expected Ling Xiao to actually call them. Having suffered a silent setback, he had no choice but to step aside. Ling Xiao didn't even give him a second glance as he walked straight into his locker room.
Chainsaw shrugged boredly and turned into his own room.
The hallway was empty now. I crept toward Chainsaw's locker room. Ling Xiao didn't want me coming to the match, so I didn't want to run into him, but I wanted to scout out the opponent. This guy didn't look like a fencing master—you don't get muscles that exaggerated from fencing—but as the Concubine said, underground matches were lawless. I was worried this guy might play dirty.
I gently turned the doorknob, and the door opened a crack. Chainsaw was sitting on a bench while his manager helped massage the muscles in his arms and thighs. Chainsaw’s lazy voice drifted out: "What are the odds?"
"1:1.21. You're only trailing by a little bit."
Chainsaw didn't speak, clearly dissatisfied with being the slight underdog.
"He made a clean sweep the season before last," his manager said. "The audience is fickle, and most of the people betting on him are women."
"Then it should be quite a show when I carve a line across that kid's face."
Hearing that was like someone who just got a perfect score on sit-ups thinking they could compete with an Olympic champion on the pommel horse. However, I was surprised to learn that this guy had also made a clean sweep two seasons ago. I also caught a glimpse of the swords they used. Chainsaw was checking his weapon; he casually swiped it against a metal locker, and the steel was instantly scratched. I realized that even if these swords weren't sharpened to a razor edge, at that level of sharpness, a hit would be incredibly painful. If it caught bare skin...
The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I quietly backed away from the door. If I were the one going out there, I didn't know what my chances would be. Just the knowledge that the thing could genuinely injure you would be enough to make you hesitant, preventing you from showing your full strength...
Suddenly, a *creak* sounded behind me.
I was standing there hugging my arms, covered in goosebumps, and the sound made me freeze instantly. Ling Xiao's door had opened. He stood there, looking at me as I stood in the hallway, hugging myself and grimacing. His expression went rigid.
I saw his brow furrow deeply. He was surely fuming, yet in his typical "stifled" fashion, he didn't say a single word to me. He just closed the door.
I figured I should probably leave, but staring at that door and imagining Ling Xiao sitting inside, meditating while seething with anger, I found myself reaching out to turn the handle. I was just giving it a twist, thinking that since he was so mad at me, he must have locked it tight. Even if it didn't lock, he surely would have pushed a cabinet or a chair against it. To my shock, the door just opened!
Ling Xiao wasn't meditating; he was changing. His upper body was bare. When I opened the door, a gust of cold air hit his back. He turned around and looked at my head poking through the doorway with utter disbelief. I could only point at the door and laugh awkwardly. "Haha, why didn't you lock the door?"
Ling Xiao stared at me, correcting me syllable by syllable: "I did lock it. You opened it."
"Ah, hahaha, you should have double-locked it. It's not safe otherwise..."
He turned back around and continued changing sullenly. "I should have." He paused. "What are you doing?"
"You're changing, I'll look away!" I said, turning my back to him.
After a long moment, Ling Xiao’s voice came, sounding helpless. "We're both guys, what is there to look away from? And did I even tell you to come in..."
From his tone, it seemed he wasn't going to hold it against me anymore. But I had to be sure. I acted dejected and said, "In that case... maybe I should just go?"
"...Aren't you tired of all the coming and going?"
*Aha!* That was it. He was giving me an out. For a "silent jar" like Ling Xiao, this wasn't just a step down; it was a total slide!
I cleared my throat and shamelessly stayed. Ling Xiao looked away and lowered his head to put on his gloves. "Who brought you here?"
"That friend I met at the gay bar last time. He's a good guy."
"You went back to that gay bar after that?" He lifted his brow slightly. He didn't look at me, but he was frowning.
"No, I only went that one time." I regretted mentioning the gay bar. I still didn't know what Ling Xiao was thinking, and I was terrified he’d think I was gay, so I hurried to deny it. "I only went that time to find you. I have no interest in that kind of place." It wasn't exactly a lie; even though I *am* gay, I really don't like those kinds of places.
Ling Xiao sat quietly on the bench and didn't speak. I didn't disturb him. I assumed he had the same habit as me: before a match, I liked to sit quietly in the locker room for a while to relax my body and focus my mind.
Ling Xiao’s ungloved hand rested on his thigh. I remembered reading somewhere that a person's hands can sometimes be seen as a sexual symbol. Ling Xiao’s hands were long and fair. When he was still, his hands didn't have a single unnecessary movement, as if they had entered a meditative state along with him. These were undoubtedly the hands of someone "abstinent." I felt that the owner of these hands not only wouldn't approve of homosexuality but might not have any interest in *that* sort of thing at all. It seemed I was cursed to fall for someone who was practically asexual; there wasn't a glimmer of light on the road ahead.
Then, that hand suddenly moved, sliding slightly toward his knee.
"Didn't I tell you not to come?"
Ling Xiao asked the question, but his tone was relatively gentle.
"Yeah," I said, feeling lost myself. I sighed and sat down beside him. "I still wanted to come and see. Even though you're right and there's nothing I can really do to help, but..." I asked him, "Do you remember the consent form we signed when we joined the team? There was a column for an emergency contact. I wrote my mom's name, though I probably won't need it on the national team. But you're doing these underground matches now, and the risk is pretty high. No one else knows about this except me. If something happens, at least I'm here, right?" I said, "I'm just here to be your emergency contact."
Outside, the crowd's emotions had been fully whipped up. They sounded like a group of primitive people circling a bonfire with stone tools, chanting and hollering.
Ling Xiao was silent for a moment before saying, "Thank you for your concern."
He stood up to check his sabre, making his final preparations. Watching him use a cloth to wipe the blade—which was much sharper than a regulation one—I couldn't help but add, "It's not just because I'm 'concerned.'"
Ling Xiao tilted his chin and looked down at me from his standing position.
I thought about the posts I’d read on the forum, and that heart-wrenching pity I felt for him. But I couldn't say those things. "It's also because I care about you. As a teammate, as a friend, and as the one and only rival I've chosen for life. Basically..." I looked up into his deep, unreadable eyes. "As someone who is very important to me."
The roar of the crowd outside was like a tidal wave; it was almost time. I stood up, about to say "let's go," when Ling Xiao suddenly spoke in a short burst: "There's..."
*Knock knock knock knock.* A pounding on the door interrupted him. Song Guo’s voice urged from outside, "Are you ready? It's time to go on!"
"Good luck," I said. "But be careful. That guy has it out for you. Protect your face!"
Ling Xiao gave me a strange look.
I hurried to clarify: "This has nothing to do with my physical or mental health this time! It's the guy you're facing. I heard him with my own ears saying he wants to carve a few lines on your face to break the hearts of all the women in the audience!" *And mine too, obviously!*
"Mm. Their hearts won't break." Ling Xiao put on his mask, secured it behind his head, and picked up his sabre. At the door, he suddenly turned back. "Did you bet on me to win?"
I nodded. "I did!"
"How much?"
"Just the minimum..."
Ling Xiao suddenly smiled. "If you want to make a bit more, go increase your bet now. There's money in my backpack. Take it all and put it on me."
I stood in the hallway, watching him in his black fencing suit, silver sabre in hand, as he walked toward the arena. He looked every bit the god-tier protagonist with a cheat code. *Tsk tsk.* I was definitely overthinking it. How could Chainsaw ever beat him?
***
