Volume One, Chapter 12: The Duality of Yin and Yang

“Reporter Su, this is the strength training room. Swimming training isn’t just about time in the water; specialized land-based conditioning and strength training are equally important. Feel free to take as many photos as you like,” Jiang Ming explained.

After finishing his introduction, he lowered his voice to answer Su San’s earlier question while she was busy taking pictures.

“I’m an athlete, not a celebrity. My mission is to reach the finish line as fast as possible; whether I’m good with words doesn’t matter. And you? Reporter Su, disguised as Zoe, what do you need?”

This was the longest speech Jiang Ming had ever delivered to Su San in one go, and paired with his striking looks, it was undeniably captivating. Su San felt her heart skip a beat but knew this wasn’t the time to be infatuated. She kept snapping photos and mimicked his manner, responding loudly as a reporter and whispering softly as Zoe.

Su San raised her voice: “I never expected the Jiangzhou swimming team, which has produced multiple national athletes, to have such an ordinary gym, with somewhat outdated equipment.”

Zoe whispered: “A reporter’s duty is to reveal the truth. Whether I’m Su San or Zoe, it’s just a difference in identity and perspective.”

Seeing Su San so cooperative and in sync, Jiang Ming found it increasingly interesting. In the dull monotony of training, it was like a ray of light had appeared. Even his usual reserve gave way to more openness.

Jiang Ming spoke aloud: “The facilities do not quite live up to the reputation of the national team’s backup squad. When you promote us, Reporter Su, don’t sugarcoat things; report the truth. If the higher-ups could increase investment and improve training equipment, that would be beneficial.”

Then he whispered: “Different identities, different stances—I understand. But you don’t seem keen on revealing your ‘Zoe’ identity.”

His tone was cold and aloof when speaking loudly, but devilishly charming when he whispered. Su San watched Jiang Ming’s split personality with amusement and gladly played along.

Loudly, she said: “Don’t worry, I have the material I need for the report! Objective reporting is my responsibility. May I ask, where to next?”

In a low voice, she replied: “Are you threatening me? Some people may look shiny and bright, but they’re really rotten tumors underneath.”

Her professional tone when loud and her sincere vulnerability when quiet struck Jiang Ming like a sudden storm, making his heart skip.

Jiang Ming escorted Su San through the strength room, continuing to show her the familiar spots frequented by the swimming team.

However, as more outsiders arrived later, Jiang Ming no longer whispered. He maintained his cold, concise demeanor, saying only what was necessary without any extra words.

Those who saw Jiang Ming accompanying a female reporter everywhere showed surprised expressions. But given his cold temperament, no one dared to ask much, only casting slightly ambiguous glances toward Su San.

Su San paid no mind to the strange looks. Calm and composed, she handled every situation with appropriate pace, always viewing it through the lens of a reporter gathering material. She photographed and recorded, asked Jiang Ming or relevant personnel questions, and remained professional and collected throughout, earning genuine admiration.

Though Jiang Ming maintained the cold “we’re not close” and “business only” facade, beneath his stern exterior his heart had already softened.

Medical room, physiotherapy room, rehabilitation center, athletes’ cafeteria, resting area...

The two passed through these places one by one, their interaction unfamiliar yet harmonious. Until finally, they arrived at a place that unsettled Su San.

“Reporter Su, this is the men’s locker room.”

Su San’s eyes flickered with a complex emotion. Last night, it was here that she had secretly recorded evidence before being discovered.

She briefly acknowledged this and continued taking photos, only stopping when they reached the small private rooms on the east side.

“This private room is…”

“Due to limited resources, only those who make the national team get private rooms with showers. Other team members share the main locker room and public baths,” Jiang Ming replied flatly, showing no hint of superiority, as if talking about something unrelated to him.

His words made Su San momentarily dazed. Lin Tingyuan’s locker was so close—could there be evidence there?

By then, the team was already training, and the locker room was empty. Su San’s heart stirred, and inexplicably, she let down her guard around Jiang Ming. Pointing at the small room she had scrutinized for a long time last night, she blurted out:

“Is this Lin Tingyuan’s locker room?”

Jiang Ming’s eyes brightened as he scanned the surroundings. Without answering directly, he finally chose to continue their earlier conversation, leaning closer to whisper:

“You asked if I was threatening you—I’m not that petty. But since you seem familiar with this place, could it be that last night…”

Su San paused her photography and looked up at him.

She raised her voice: “So these private cubicles are for national athletes.”

Then she lowered her voice: “Let’s be frank. I did follow a lead here last night. He didn’t lock the door, but unfortunately…”

Her heart quickened, and her hand instinctively reached for the door handle. The next moment, Jiang Ming grabbed the back of her collar and pulled her back.

“I don’t have the authority to let you in there, nor can I watch you make a mistake.”

“You…”

Su San’s expression darkened, but she couldn’t argue. She pouted in frustration and helplessness, looking both endearing and pitiful.

Thinking of how Su San nearly drowned last night, a flicker of fear stirred in Jiang Ming’s heart. Impulsively, he grabbed her shoulder and turned toward the room on the left.

“But this one is fine. The code is 0811. I don’t mind lending it to a doctor eager to cut out the tumor, but... safety first.”

As he spoke, Jiang Ming opened the door and pushed Su San inside.

The glass shower cubicle smelled faintly of body wash—the scent of cedarwood he wore. The ceiling-high lockers were yellowed with age, but the national flag sticker on the door shone brightly, and nearby, his name “Jiang Ming” stood out clearly.

0811?

The sequence of numbers felt oddly familiar to Su San, but the scene changed too fast for her to think further.

Especially when Jiang Ming said the last sentence, his face was as stern as ever, but his eyes burned with a flicker of heat, seductive enough to distract her.

In the cramped locker room, the two stood close. When Su San realized she was nearly pressed against the glass shower door, a flush of heat spread through her body. Silently, she cursed Jiang Ming—if he wasn’t playing dumb, he must be a hidden master, every movement teasing and tantalizing.

“Reporter Su, your cheeks are quite red.”

“It’s so damp and hot here, like a steam sauna.”

“Oh?”

“Um, could I take a photo of the locker?”

Su San fanned herself, glanced around to shift the topic, playful and lively. Jiang Ming responded without hesitation.

“Hmm...”

Jiang Ming didn’t realize he might have lost his mind a little. His private locker room, a sacred space even Wang Yining had never entered, was now repeatedly opened for Su San. He even revealed the code, afraid that this “landlubber” woman, obsessed with evidence, would keep poking around Lin Tingyuan’s space. If she encountered danger again, at least she’d have a place to hide without risking another dive.

He sighed helplessly inside. He was truly defenseless against a woman willing to risk everything for the truth.