The Delinquent Wants to Be His Rival School Grass's Guardian - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Rainy Night Accident — Picking Up the Nemesis

After finishing the game with them at noon, Yan Jun endured his sweat-slicked skin and cycled home. The moment he stepped through the door, the sky turned gloomy, as if a torrential rainstorm was imminent.

He had no choice but to lift his creaking second-hand bike into the house and park it in the crowded hallway. Passing Grandma’s room, Yan Jun saw her sitting by the bed, holding two white, soft, oily meat buns, savoring them leisurely.

The fluffy bun skin was soft and sweet, and the meat filling was savory and juicy. He had specifically saved them for her this morning.

The elderly woman didn’t eat much; two buns were enough for lunch. Yan Jun felt relieved and turned to gather his clothes for a shower.

Just as he was squeezing shampoo into his hand, lightning flashed outside the window, followed by an ear-splitting crack of thunder.

Yan Jun couldn’t help but yell, “Fuck! What the hell? I was planning to go buy flour this afternoon…!”

When he finished his shower and came out, the curtain of rain had blotted out the sky. Climbing the handrail-less wooden stairs to the attic, Yan Jun realized he had left the window open. Rainwater was lunging inside fiercely, dripping through the cracks in the floorboards to the level below. He rushed over to close it, and his freshly changed clothes were instantly soaked through.

“Fuck!”

Deciding not to bother with clothes at all, Yan Jun stripped off his shirt and pants, wrung them dry, hung them over the back of a chair, and lay down for a nap in just his underwear. Hoping the rain might stop later, he closed his eyes and soon fell asleep to the sound of the downpour.

He didn’t wake up until after four o’clock.

When he opened his eyes, the daylight was still dim. Yan Jun groggily turned to look out the window just in time to see a bolt of lightning strike down, illuminating the thick rain.

He opened his eyes wide in despair, forced to accept reality: “…Looks like I have to go buy flour in the rain.”

Putting on a raincoat and taking a waterproof tarp and ropes, Yan Jun ran from under the awning to the neighbor’s house to borrow Uncle Wu’s tricycle.

The middle-aged man fished out the keys, looking hesitant: “The rain is so heavy, do you really have to go out?”

“There’s no flour left… only about five pounds, not enough for tomorrow’s buns.” Yan Jun scratched his head in embarrassment. “Uncle, I’ll be very careful. I definitely won’t damage your vehicle! If I do, I’ll be responsible for finding someone to fix it, you don’t have to worry!”

“It’s not that I’m afraid of the car getting damaged… Sigh, forget it, take it. Drive slowly and remember to stay to the side, okay?”

“Okay, thanks Uncle!” Instantly energized, Yan Jun took the keys, threw on his raincoat, stuffed the tarp into his jacket, and charged into the rain to climb onto the red tricycle.

The lean, black-clad figure started the engine skillfully and slowly faded into the curtain of rain. Uncle Wu watched with concern, eventually shaking his head with a sigh: “So young, yet working so hard…”

…

The grain and oil wholesale shop was two blocks away about three kilometers away.

By the time he arrived, the shop was about to close. Seeing him emerge from the rain, the owner was startled: “Rain this heavy and I thought no one would come! …So, the usual twelve bags of flour?”

“Yes!” Yan Jun’s eyelashes were stuck together by the rain, and water was streaming down his neck. He was so cold his lips were pale and he was shivering uncontrollably.

The boss called the workers to load the flour and handed him a towel to wipe his face: “Coming out in this rain, aren’t you afraid of soaking the flour? …Wait until the rain lets up a bit before heading back.”

Watching the flour being loaded bag by bag, Yan Jun felt a bit more settled but said awkwardly, “Won’t I be in the way of you closing up?”

“What’s the matter? I have to ride my little electric scooter back in the rain anyway.” The boss laughed heartily.

He sat in the shop for about twenty minutes. Seeing the rain finally subside, he stood up, covered the mountain of flour tightly with the waterproof tarp, tied the four corners with rope, and bid the boss goodbye: “Thanks, boss! Good business to you!”

“Aye, take care. Drive safe!”

Driving back along the same route, the shop signs on either side were a bit clearer now. In the moderate rain, pedestrians had almost vanished, and the electric scooters were gone. The only things passing him were cars, which sent “splash” after “splash” of accumulated water over him.

“Fuck…” He didn’t even have the energy to curse anymore. Yan Jun’s hands were numb with cold, his fingers stiffly gripping the handlebars, his only thought being to get home quickly.

As he pushed forward in a daze, he suddenly saw a black umbrella discarded by the green belt ahead. Its frame was broken, looking like a dead crow with messy feathers soaking in the puddles.

Yan Jun stared at it numbly, subconsciously thinking that where there’s an umbrella, there should be a person. Sure enough, a figure abruptly appeared in his vision, staggering.

The person was dressed in black, soaking wet, carrying a light sports bag, and had no umbrella. He was hunched over but tall maybe over 180cm? He seemed drunk, swaying left and right, making it impossible for Yan Jun to pass.

Unable to help himself, he honked the horn. The figure paused and sluggishly moved toward the sidewalk. The path was finally clear.

A split second after they brushed past each other, he heard a “clatter.” The tricycle felt a slight bump, as if it had caught on something.

…Fuck, did I hit that drunk?

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Yan Jun’s heart nearly stopped; he felt like he’d been dropped into an ice cellar. He hurriedly scrambled off the vehicle, his mind instantly flooded with cases of traffic accidents and massive compensation claims.

Grabbing the other’s arm, he frantically tried to pull the person up: “Hey! Are you okay? Did I hit you anywhere…?”

The person’s hateful lips were currently bloodless, pressed tightly together. Wet hair clung to his forehead, and there was a bright red scrape on his temple, oozing a bit of blood that was quickly washed away by the rain.

A fierce internal battle raged in Yan Jun’s mind. He crouched by the tricycle, unsure whether to hold the guy or let go. In his dilemma, he even felt a surge of annoyance: The rain is this heavy, why aren’t you staying home? Why are you wandering around, walking in the middle of the road and crashing into my car… are you trying to scam me (pengci)!

Just then, the Qin Yize in his arms let out a soft groan and slowly opened his eyes. Yan Jun’s body grew even stiffer, his throat tight as he asked gruffly: “You… you okay? Can you move?”

Qin Yize squinted, shakily raised a hand, and grabbed Yan Jun’s raincoat: “You are…”

But in the next second, his strength failed, and he fainted again.

…Fuck, looks like I’m going to have to spend some money to settle this disaster today!

His heart ached at the thought of the cost. Yan Jun fished out his phone, gritting his teeth as he prepared to dial 120 (emergency services). But he looked up, saw the truckload of flour and the water streaming off the tarp… and he hesitated.

Even though the flour bags had plastic moisture-proof liners, if they stayed in the rain too long and something happened, over a thousand yuan would go down the drain!

He looked back down at Qin Yize: aside from that scrape on his forehead, he didn’t seem to have any other injuries?

After frowning in thought for two seconds, Yan Jun carefully lifted the guy’s shirt and pant legs to check. Confirming there were no other wounds, he let out a long sigh of relief and made a split-second decision: Forget it, I’ll take this guy home first! Once the flour is unloaded, I’ll take him to the hospital.

Since he was destined to lose money anyway, he might as well save what he could!

He immediately gripped Qin Yize’s arm, hauling him onto his back like a sack of flour. Yan Jun struggled under the weight, shuffling to the back of the tricycle in the rain. He lowered the tailgate and painstakingly laid the person down on top of the pile of flour.

The rain continued to fall, streaming down Qin Yize’s pale face. Yan Jun secured the tailgate and was about to drive off. Seeing this, he felt a flicker of guilt and hesitation. He took off his own raincoat and covered the guy completely.

…Better not let him catch a cold, or that’ll be another medical bill.

…

Ten minutes later, Yan Jun finally drove back to Jinghe Road.

Hearing the sound inside, Uncle Wu felt relieved and hurried out with a bowl in hand: “Xiao Jun, you’re finally back! I thought something happened to you…”

But crossing the threshold, he only saw a tricycle full of flour parked lonely under the awning. Yan Jun’s voice drifted out from the house: “Nothing happened! It’s just… the rain was too heavy. I was afraid of ruining the flour, so I waited at the shop for a bit.”

He sounded out of breath, as if he were carrying something. Uncle Wu took several large gulps of rice and grumbled: “Oh, what’s the rush! I wasn’t rushing you, you can unload slowly!”

He put down his bowl to help, only to see the waterproof tarp over the flour was still tucked in perfectly; the ropes at the four corners hadn’t even been untied. Uncle Wu was bewildered: What was Xiao Jun carrying then?

He curiously lifted the tarp and shouldered a bag of flour to take inside. Yan Jun happened to be running down from upstairs, soaking wet from head to toe, water dripping from his hair!

Uncle Wu was shocked again: “Didn’t I see you wearing a raincoat?”

Yan Jun’s face was somewhat pale, his lips twitching into a stiff smile: “The raincoat… didn’t work, I still got soaked.”

“Really?” Uncle Wu walked into the kitchen suspiciously and placed the flour in the corner. Yan Jun followed closely behind and dropped off another bag, saying with a forced smile: “Uncle, go back to your dinner. I’ll unload the rest slowly.”

“It’s fine, I’m full. Good exercise.”

With help, the twelve bags of flour were soon unloaded and stacked neatly by the kitchen door. Seeing Yan Jun was drenched, Uncle Wu didn’t linger. He took his keys and turned to head home: “Hurry up and take a hot shower! Don’t catch a cold.”

“Okay, thanks Uncle Wu.”

With his lips trembling slightly, Yan Jun stood at the kitchen door, not daring to move. Only when he saw Uncle Wu was far away did he lunged forward, slamming the door shut and locking it urgently.

He turned and crept to Grandma’s door to peek inside. Seeing the elderly woman leaning against the headboard, nodding off in a daze, Yan Jun finally let out a sigh of relief. In that moment, his calves felt weak like he’d just finished a grueling training session—and he almost couldn’t stand.

Holding the doorframe, he turned and walked laboriously toward the stairs. It was now 6:30 PM, and the light was fading fast. The upstairs was a dark void, like some monster’s nest, filling him with trepidation.

Apprehensively climbing the stairs, Yan Jun kept his body low, cautiously watching his 1.2-meter bed as he moved forward inch by inch. When he saw the long silhouette on the bed, he reflexively swallowed, his body temperature dropping to freezing point.

Qin Yize didn’t seem to be awake yet.

Standing by the bed and observing carefully, Yan Jun saw the guy’s clothes were soaking wet, dampening the straw mat. After hesitating for two seconds, he went back to grab a towel, intending to help dry Qin Yize’s hair.

The guy must have been in the rain for a while; he was soaked to the bone, not a dry spot on him. Yan Jun frowned as he wiped, his gaze sliding down from the forehead with his movements, landing on those hateful peach blossom eyes. He discovered that Qin Yize’s pupils were very dark—pure black without a single impurity, like obsidian, staring intently at him.

Staring. At him.

“Holy shit…!” He instantly jumped back a meter, staring at the person on the bed in a state of shock, tongue-tied: “You… Are you awake?”

Qin Yize’s eyelids blinked slowly. His long eyelashes, clumped together by the water like little fans, made Yan Jun’s heart skip beats in terror. After a while, he seemed to feel pain. He groaned “Ugh…” with a frown, struggled to pull himself up, and hung his head, dry-heaving painfully though he only coughed up a bit of yellow bile.

“It hurts…” Yan Jun heard him mumble.

In the next second, the person lifted his eyelids, looking at him blankly, and tilted his head slightly: “Who are you?”

Silence. A long silence.

Yan Jun stared at him, dumbfounded, and muttered a soft, “Holy shit.”