Duel Between Men

Shu He was gone.

By the time Luo Shuning noticed, it was already Friday evening.

The twilight outside the window resembled rice paper soaked in rainwater, blurring into layers of grayish-blue.

The weather on Friday changed faster than flipping a page in a book.

In the morning, sunlight scattered like gold foil, illuminating the bluestone paths of Guangya Academy with a radiant glow. But by the afternoon, gray clouds suddenly pressed down, and a fine drizzle began to fall soundlessly.

Most students at Guangya hadn’t brought umbrellas, so aside from a few badminton enthusiasts and a handful of boys who dashed out of the classroom immediately after school, the rest lingered inside, waiting for the rain to stop.

Though the rain wasn’t heavy, the distance to either the club building or the sports field was enough to soak their uniforms.

Boys might not care, but teenage girls definitely wouldn’t risk giving out an unintended "view" by getting drenched.

"Best friend, I challenge you to a fair duel between men."

Situ Wenyao turned around, his gaze burning as he stared at Gu Luo.

He had just learned that while he was busy showing off outside, his "home" had been stolen.

Damn it, how dare Feng Youqing kiss someone else?

Well... this "home" naturally referred to Gu Luo.

But since Feng Youqing was his girlfriend, Situ Wenyao couldn’t just stand by.

If he did nothing, he’d definitely get beaten—with the reasoning being, "I’m your girlfriend, and I kissed someone else, yet you’re not even jealous?"

Moreover, as Guangya’s most notorious gay in recent times, his popularity was now rivaling Gu Luo’s.

One could say, black fame is still fame.

With just a little more clout-chasing off Gu Luo, he might even reach his level.

"......"

Gu Luo blinked, knowing he was in the wrong. Just as he was about to concede, Feng Youqing suddenly perked up beside him, waving her fists excitedly:

"Go, Luo Luo! Knock this guy down!"

"......"

Seeing Feng Youqing still fanning the flames, Gu Luo was truly at a loss for words to describe this absurd couple.

The commotion quickly drew the attention of other classmates.

First, the students in the back rows craned their necks to look, then those in the front crowded around curiously. Before long, everyone had gathered to watch the spectacle.

Feng Youqing’s straightforward and unrestrained personality was well-known in class, so no one seriously believed she had fallen for Gu Luo just because she kissed him in public—much like the carefree, ditzy school goddess Luo Shuling’s reputation.

"Fight! Fight!"

The class sports committee member, never one to miss out on fun, shouted excitedly.

"I’ll bet fifty cents on Gu Luo winning."

"Then I’ll bet a pack of spicy strips—also on Gu Luo."

"If you’re all betting, then I’ll go for Haji Yao. I’ll wager a whole building—not much, but not real either."

"Go, Haji Yao! I believe in you!"

"......"

Class 2-8 was a textbook example of a class full of jokesters.

Cheers and teasing erupted in waves.

The atmosphere was already electric.

Seeing this, Gu Luo’s expression turned odd, but he didn’t want to ruin the fun. Reluctantly, he asked, "Situ, when you say a fair duel between men... what exactly do you mean?"

"Of course..."

Situ Wenyao paused deliberately for effect before continuing, "There’s been a rumor at school that you’re freakishly strong. Coincidentally, I’ve been working on my muscles too."

As he spoke, he rolled up his uniform sleeve, revealing an arm that wasn’t bulky but had well-defined lines, and placed it on Gu Luo’s desk.

"So, we’ll settle this with an arm-wrestling match."

Of course, as the self-proclaimed president of Gu Luo’s fan club, Situ Wenyao knew exactly how strong Gu Luo was. Competing against him in strength was like an egg striking a rock.

But!

Given the current situation, no matter what they competed in, Gu Luo would definitely throw the match, pretending to lose after a hard-fought battle.

This would be a triple-win scenario.

He’d win—he’d be happy.

He’d win—Gu Luo would be happy.

No matter who won between him and Gu Luo, Feng Youqing would be happy.

Perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

Situ Wenyao was already reveling in his mind because he was about to become the first boy in Guangya’s history to defeat Gu Luo.

Just thinking about it made him want to hum in delight.

From now on, he wouldn’t just be Haji Yao—he’d be Haji God... no, wait, God Yao.

Hahahaha! HAHAHAHA!

"What are you laughing at? Are we doing this or not?"

Just as Situ Wenyao lost himself in his gleeful cackling, Feng Youqing smacked him upside the head.

Situ Wenyao quickly composed himself, adopting a solemn and serious expression.

"......"

Gu Luo sighed inwardly, already planning how to put on a convincing act—pretending to struggle for two minutes before "narrowly" losing to Haji Yao.

After all, he was the one at fault here.

With that in mind, he slowly extended his arm, deliberately gripping Situ Wenyao’s hand at an awkward angle to make it harder to exert force.

Situ Wenyao noticed this and felt a surge of joy.

As expected, his best friend was bro enough to let him win.

Good.

Very good.

Now he could confidently talk trash before the match.

Thus, with a deadpan expression, Situ Wenyao declared, "Best friend, I originally planned to live among you as an ordinary person, but all I got in return was mockery. Fine, I won’t pretend anymore. I can easily pin down a pig with one hand. I’m coming clean."

The moment these words left his mouth—

Before Gu Luo could react, the surrounding classmates burst into laughter.

"Haha, Haji Yao, did you fly too high last night and get lightheaded? Why are you spouting nonsense in broad daylight?"

"How many times do we have to tell you? Stop ordering from cheap food apps! Look, now you’re hallucinating!"

"Sports committee, did you bully him last—ow ow ow! Not the face!"

"......"

Hearing this, Situ Wenyao merely shook his head with an air of pity, his eyes carrying three parts profundity and seven parts mischief.

"Others laugh at me for being mad; I laugh at them for failing to see the truth."

"If you don’t train your arms, you’ll see me as a frog at the bottom of a well gazing at the moon. If you do train your arms, you’ll see me as an ant beholding the vast sky."

"Come on, best friend. Since it’s you, I’ll only reveal my true strength this once. After this, I’ll never expose my full power again."

Of course, he added that last line to avoid other boys challenging him afterward.

That would ruin everything.

This whole performance left Gu Luo utterly dumbfounded.

For a moment, he even wondered if Haji Yao had been playing the fool all along.

Just then, Feng Youqing, acting as referee, began the countdown:

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

Gu Luo immediately tensed up, bracing for Situ Wenyao’s storm-like assault—only to be shocked when the other boy’s strength turned out to be, if not pitifully weak, then at best average for a guy.

To him, it was no different from wrestling a scrawny chicken.

Damn.

Haji Yao was wasted not being an actor.

That earlier display of unshakable confidence was Oscar-worthy.

Gu Luo found the situation somewhat amusing, though he maintained a convincingly strained expression on the surface, as if he were on the verge of losing.

If he was going to put on an act, he might as well do it properly.

Hmm... this round might appear to be an arm-wrestling match, but in reality, it was a battle of acting skills.

"Impressive, my dear friend. You actually held your own against half of my strength. Not bad."

Situ Wenyao wore an air of effortless calm, his eyes as serene as a deep pool, every movement exuding the poise of a reclusive master.

Meanwhile,

Gu Ximan and Lu Xuexue, who had just arrived outside Class 8 of the second grade, peered inside with curiosity.

............

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