Chapter 33: Underhanded Tactics

Beicheng City Gymnasium.

There were still three hours left before the tip-off of the CBA finals’ Game 7.

Under the guidance of head coach Wang Chunsheng, the entire Beicheng team was in the midst of their pre-game practice. From holding a commanding 3-1 lead, they had been clawed back to a 3-3 tie, and with the recent exposure of Coach Wang Chunsheng’s scandal, the mood in the team was anything but high.

Wang Chunsheng stood on the sidelines, a cell phone in his hand—a rare sight, since neither coaches nor players usually brought their phones onto the court during training.

Suddenly, the phone rang.

“Old Wang, we’ve wrapped up filming over here. Lin Feng has already left,” came the voice of Qian Jinlai on the other end.

“Thanks, Old Qian.” Wang Chunsheng offered his gratitude, then dialed another number. In a low voice, he said, “He’s already on his way. You can get ready to move.”

With that, Wang hung up, a cold, sinister smile curling on his lips. “You think you’re good from three? I’ll make sure you can’t even step onto the court.”

...

Yanbei Expressway.

A red SUV sped down the road, kicking up a trail of dust in its wake.

Inside, Lin Feng reclined in the passenger seat, eyes closed, resting. At the wheel was Qin Ruolin, the diva of the music world, willingly playing chauffeur.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep, okay? It’s boring driving alone.” Qin Ruolin stomped on the accelerator, voicing her complaint.

Lin Feng opened his eyes slightly. “It’s all this scandal business—kept me up all night.”

“I’m grateful you helped me put on an act, but you really didn’t need to make a bet with Zhou Ziqian and Jiang Kai. Challenging those two openly? You’re in for trouble. They’re famous leeches in the industry—once you get tangled up with them, it’s hard to shake them off.” Qin Ruolin’s tone was dismissive.

“I’m genuinely curious—did they really pursue you?” Lin Feng asked, gossipy.

“Oh, plenty of people have chased after me. How could I remember them all?” Qin Ruolin tossed her head with an air of pride.

Lin Feng was speechless. “You must remember some of them.”

“Fine, I remember a bit. Zhou Ziqian and I were in the same company. He debuted two years before me, and when I was just starting out, he was at his peak—so arrogant, as if the world couldn’t contain him. One day, he came to me and suggested we create a fake scandal together. He promised I’d become famous quickly—with his help, for a price, of course…”

“He wanted to sleep with you?” Lin Feng blurted out.

Qin Ruolin shot him a glare. “Do men only ever think of that?”

“Of course not,” Lin Feng replied hastily.

Qin Ruolin snorted and continued, “To others, he might have been a superstar, an idol. But to me, he was nothing but a conceited fool. I couldn’t even be bothered to look at him, and I certainly wasn’t interested in fabricating scandals for fame.”

“So, you turned him down, and he couldn’t let it go—kept pestering you?” Lin Feng pressed.

“More or less. At first, he just called me ungrateful. Later, after I became popular and he got caught up in plagiarism rumors, he tried to use me to clean up his image. He started pursuing me very publicly, painting himself as some sort of devoted lover. It’s disgusting just thinking about it!” The memory clearly angered Qin Ruolin; her beautiful face was clouded with fury.

“So, when our news broke, he was the first to jump out. He really is like a leech,” Lin Feng said, equally disdainful of Zhou Ziqian’s persistence.

“There’s something I don’t quite understand. Why don’t you clarify our relationship? In fact, you’re even giving the impression you already have a boyfriend. Why? As far as I know, you’ve never started a scandal with any male star. If there was ever gossip, it was always other stars using your fame to promote themselves, and your management team always denied it immediately. So why are you doing things differently this time?” Lin Feng asked, curious.

“There’s no harm in telling you. If you ever get murdered, at least you’ll know why.” A wry smile played on Qin Ruolin’s lips as she explained, “It’s actually a melodramatic story. When I was little, my parents arranged a childhood engagement for me. Now that we’re both of age, they’re pushing me to marry him. But I don’t like him—how could I marry him? Lately, my parents’ pressure has only gotten worse. Your scandal with me broke at just the right time. I figured this might be the best way to get out of this marriage. So, sorry for the trouble.”

Lin Feng finally understood: he was just a shield for the superstar singer.

“Can I ask what this fiancé of yours does? He must hate me now!” Lin Feng inquired.

“He? He’s just an idle rich kid with no ambition!” Qin Ruolin’s expression was full of disdain. “Still, you should watch out. He runs a boxing club full of thugs. Who knows if he’ll come looking for you?”

“Seems like I’ll need to be careful walking home at night.” Lin Feng pursed his lips. Being the diva’s rumored boyfriend wasn’t easy—yesterday, there was a singer and an actor as romantic rivals; today, a rich kid. Who knew how many more there would be?

Lin Feng wondered if he ought to ask the diva for some “hush money”—this job was turning out to be quite the ordeal.

...

Screech!

Lost in thought, Lin Feng was suddenly jolted as Qin Ruolin slammed on the brakes. Both of them lurched forward; if not for their seat belts, their heads might have hit the windshield.

“What’s going on?” Lin Feng sat up and looked ahead. On what had been a smooth expressway, several large watermelons had appeared out of nowhere.

Qin Ruolin had braked to avoid hitting them.

“Where did these watermelons come from?” Qin Ruolin muttered, rubbing her chest, which had been knocked against the steering wheel.

Lin Feng stuck his head out the window. About three hundred meters ahead was a curve, and the watermelons were scattered from that bend.

“Probably a traffic accident. Just our luck,” Lin Feng said, checking the time on his phone—five-thirty, two hours until the game.

“No use worrying. Let’s inch forward and see what’s going on. We can’t go back anyway.” With that, Qin Ruolin restarted the car, gingerly weaving around the scattered fruit and entering the curve.

Sure enough, a large truck full of watermelons had overturned, completely blocking the road. The highway was covered in mountains of watermelons.

Ahead of them, over twenty vehicles were already stuck, with more cars arriving behind.

Seeing this, both Qin Ruolin and Lin Feng were dumbstruck. Until the truck and all those watermelons were cleared, no one was going anywhere.

And with still over an hour’s drive to Beicheng, it looked like Lin Feng would likely miss the game.

...