Yesterday there were many people, and Tong Sui had not noticed Jiang Che’s presence. Today, he stood next to him. Tong Sui saw that Jiang Che’s target was pristine, with the only shot that had landed hitting his own target.
Tong Sui looked around the shooting range and asked, “Where’s Bian Sheng?” According to the original plot, he should be here as well, perhaps holding Jiang Che’s hand while giving direction. Jiang Che replied, “Bian Sheng has passed the assessment, so he isn’t here.”
“Okay,” Tong Sui said, already accustomed to the deviations from the plotline. He walked over to Jiang Che and checked his protective gear and gun. Jiang Che was startled and quickly stepped back.
Maintaining a safe distance, Tong Sui reassured him, “Don’t be nervous, just relax your hands a bit.” Jiang Che quietly replied, “Don’t waste your time on me. I…”
“You are not worse than anyone else,” Tong Sui encouraged. “It’s simple. Don’t overthink it. Just aim at the target and shoot, like playing a game.”
Tong Sui didn’t pressure Jiang Che or take over teaching him; he merely stood quietly at the side and watched. Failing the military training assessment meant having to repeat it next year with the freshmen, impacting their overall score for the semester.
At first, Jiang Che was still a bit tense. He discreetly glanced at Tong Sui, who, even though wearing the same uniform, exuded a different aura from the other Alphas—bright and dazzling, making everyone else feel inadequate. He had come to this school with great courage, having excelled in his academic subjects. But being here made Jiang Che feel like a frog at the bottom of a well, completely out of place against the vast sky outside.
Yet Tong Sui was willing to invest time and effort in him. Jiang Che turned back to the target. He took a deep breath and fired again, missing the target but turning around to check on Tong Sui, noticing that he didn’t exhibit any disappointed expression.
Instead, he remained quietly observant. Gradually, Jiang Che relaxed; his hands stopped trembling, and finally, a small hole appeared in the target before him. Although it was on the outskirts, he turned to Tong Sui with joy. Tong Sui remained silent but gave him a thumbs-up.
Encouraged, Jiang Che’s performance improved. Meanwhile, the Alphas who initially shared the same skill level as him were still struggling. Jiang Che, however, managed to hit the nine-ring.
When Ye Linyuan arrived at the shooting range, he saw this scene unfold. The distance between them wasn’t particularly short, but when Jiang Che glanced back, his eyes were unmistakably filled with emotion, the kind that often betrays youth.
Could Alphas exchange such ambiguous looks? No, they couldn’t. That feeling of discomfort he experienced yesterday returned, mingled with an underlying restlessness rising up to his throat.
“Tong Sui,” he called, his voice echoing in the stifling air of the range, as if a chilly wind had swept through.
Tong Sui turned around. Upon seeing Ye Linyuan, his heart raced a little faster; he initially wanted to bolt but suddenly remembered something and asked Jiang Che, “Can you practice on your own?”
Jiang Che responded softly, “Thank you.” Tong Sui then stepped in front of Ye Linyuan. Jiang Che couldn’t help but follow with his gaze, noticing that Tong Sui looked markedly happier, as though he had become more vibrant.
However, when Jiang Che stole a few glances, he was caught off guard by Ye Linyuan’s cold gaze. So fierce! He quickly averted his eyes, nearly dropping what he was holding.
Ye Linyuan shifted his attention, asking, “How’s the practice going?”
“No good, I still can’t do it,” Tong Sui replied. “The instructor said if I fail the assessment, I’ll have to come again next year.”
Ye Linyuan casually glanced at Tong Sui’s target, noticing the bullet holes. “Is that so?”
“Yeah, so could you teach me like yesterday? I want to find my rhythm,” Tong Sui asked. “If that doesn’t work, it’s fine; I can practice later on my own.”
“Sure,” Ye Linyuan answered. “Come over here.”
Tong Sui stood in front of him, the faint fragrance of Ye Linyuan enveloping him.
“Fire a couple of shots so I can see.”
When Ye Linyuan spoke, a slight tremor in his voice sent shivers through Tong Sui, especially towards his ears. He raised his hand and took two quick shots, both missing the target.
“I’m terrible,” Tong Sui admitted, looking at Ye Linyuan helplessly, causing the instructor and fellow students beside them to look on in disbelief.
Is this a scam?
Ye Linyuan remained by his side, not holding his hand, instead explaining some basic concepts using his voice. But Tong Sui wasn’t interested.
He grasped Ye Linyuan’s hand, feeling the calluses on his fingers, “Director Ye, I don’t understand. Can you teach me personally?”
He glanced back slightly. Ye Linyuan’s collar was neat, and he swallowed nervously, his jawline taut.
Then, Tong Sui’s hand was grasped firmly in return, that large hand covering his own.
“Don’t get distracted.”
Tong Sui pulled his gaze back, responding with an “Oh.”
After a few exchanges, the observing classmates noted that whenever Ye Linyuan held Tong Sui’s hand, they hit the target; when he released it, they missed.
Everyone could see that something was amiss, yet Ye Linyuan said nothing, indulging Tong Sui in this tedious game of standing and shooting for half an hour.
Perhaps Tong Sui felt that continuing the act would be too forced, finally taking a few casual shots before turning to Ye Linyuan to express his gratitude.
“Director Ye, I’m sorry for bothering you again. Can I get you some water?”
“Sure.”
As the two of them left, classmates started to discuss, “Why do I feel like Tong Sui has a crush on Ye Linyuan?”
“Do you think if Ye Linyuan had no feelings, he would let Tong Sui pull off these moves without calling him out?”