Chapter 48: Rain on the Abandoned Field

Bus No. 16 pulled up outside the town’s middle school.

Xu Chen stepped off, the stifling air pressing in on him.

He tilted his head to the leaden sky, thick black clouds hanging low overhead.

There was no wind yet; the air felt thick and heavy.

Without pausing, Xu Chen strode toward the rundown, desolate athletic field.

With a creak, he pushed open the iron gate and slipped inside.

He looked around at the empty, gray track.

In the middle of the field, the soccer pitch was overrun with half-dead, uneven weeds.

Not a soul in sight.

Xu Chen glanced around, then headed straight for the crumbling stands.

Circling the waist-high concrete platform, he found Xie Bingran exactly where he’d expected—she’d vanished without a trace until now.

She crouched in a corner beside the platform, her head buried in her knees.

Her short hair fell forward, hiding her face from view.

Her feet were bare.

Clutched in her arms were those red running shoes.

…

Under that oppressive sky, the heavy clouds seemed to weigh down on her alone.

From a distance, Xu Chen watched Bingran in her curled-up posture.

For a moment, time seemed to rewind.

She was still that same timid, tiny, self-conscious classmate who’d often gone hungry back then.

Over the years, she’d armed herself with the persona of “Bing Ge.”

But here, beneath the dark clouds on this empty, lonely field…

An invisible, unjust force had finally stripped her back to her original self.

Xu Chen said nothing as he walked slowly to her side.

At the sound of his footsteps, Bingran’s head twitched, but she didn’t look up.

Xu Chen knelt before her and reached out to gently brush her hair.

Just as when he was a boy and a village kid mocked him for being “motherless,” his father’s big hand would reach down to stroke his head.

And like the time he saved a puppy with a crippled leg, reaching out to pet its filthy little head.

Bingran lifted her face. Through damp, tangled strands, her eyes met Xu Chen’s gentle smile.

Her arms tightened around her legs, still protecting those red running shoes.

“Hungry?” Xu Chen asked softly.

Bingran blinked, startled, then whispered:

“Hungry…”

“I’ve got some cookies in my bag.” Xu Chen offered a small smile.

Bingran’s large, wet eyes blinked again.

She wasn’t the formidable “Bing Ge” from First High School anymore—just a hungry, helpless girl.

Xu Chen reached behind him for his backpack. Just as he was about to rummage through it, fat raindrops splashed down.

In an instant, rain poured like a waterfall.

But on this open field, there was nowhere to hide.

Bingran shrank back, clutching the red shoes tighter.

Xu Chen raised his large pack overhead, shielding them both.

Bingran said nothing. She lifted her head slightly and glanced at the changing room in the corner of the field.

Xu Chen stood and helped Bingran up.

By then, they were already soaked through.

“Come on!”

He called, grabbing her arm as he dashed toward the field’s edge.

They sprinted a few steps before he tugged her back.

“Put on your shoes. You’ll cut your feet running barefoot!”

Bingran still held the red sneakers to her chest and shook her head at Xu Chen.

Ignoring him, she dashed barefoot into the torrential downpour toward the field’s edge.

Xu Chen frowned, shouldering his bag and hurried after her.

…

In the field’s northwest corner stood two low buildings—once locker rooms for athletes, now storage sheds.

The door stood open.

The last time they’d been here, Bingran had kicked the locked door down.

They burst into the dim interior.

A few toppled metal lockers and scattered debris made it cramped and dark but wind- and rainproof.

Breathing hard, Xu Chen glanced at Bingran.

She was drenched from head to toe, still clutching those shoes.

And still barefoot—no telling if she’d cut her feet running across the coal-dust track.

Bingran seemed to snap back to reality. She bent and placed the red shoes on a dry patch of floor.

She shook rain from her black jacket and brushed her soaked hair back.

Xu Chen watched her and realized that by holding onto those shoes, she’d been planning to try out for the city games.

This morning’s meeting, the punishment, the expulsion—all of it had blindsided “Bing Ge.”

“Where are your shoes?” Xu Chen asked.

Bingran pointed behind the door.

Only then did Xu Chen notice an old backpack and a pair of grimy canvas shoes.

So she’d been here before, leaving her bag and shoes behind.

Why she’d waited barefoot on the field clutching her trainers—no one knew.

But Xu Chen could guess.

It was the frustration of unwillingness mixed with helplessness.

She felt terrible.

She didn’t know what to do.

…

Xu Chen unbuckled his backpack and pulled out a pack of Oreos.

He wiped off the rainwater from his clothes and handed them to Bingran with a smile.

Bingran took them, tore the package open with a snap, and revealed the neat rows of cookies—but she offered them to Xu Chen first.

He pinched one and popped it into his mouth. Only then did Bingran take one for herself.

Outside, the storm raged.

The abandoned field seemed swallowed by the relentless sheets of rain.

Yet this cramped, uninviting locker room felt like a safe, steady boat on a stormy sea.

The two of them crouched on the floor, silently sharing the cookies.

It was noon, and Xu Chen hadn’t had lunch.

Bingran probably hadn’t eaten breakfast…

They finished the package in silence, then sat back, watching the torrential downpour outside.

Bingran shivered, drawing her arms around herself.

“You’re soaked through. Do you have any spare clothes?” Xu Chen asked.

Bingran tucked her wet hair behind her ear and looked toward the backpack by the door.

“The clothes you bought me.”

Xu Chen stood, grabbed the old backpack from the floor, and handed it to her.

“Then put them on quickly—you can’t get sick.”

Bingran took the bag but didn’t move.

“You signed that Servitude Contract with me. You’re mine now.

You can’t let my property freeze, catch a cold, or fall ill.”

Bingran frowned, a flicker of “Bing Ge” anger in her eyes.

But she said nothing as she unzipped the bag and pulled out a black tracksuit.

“I can’t change in here with you watching.”

Her tone was frosty.

Xu Chen laughed. “No problem—I’ll step outside.”

He stood, ready to brave the rain.

“Hey!”

Bingran grabbed him.

“Just stay at the door…don’t turn around.”

Xu Chen grinned mischievously and moved to the doorway, facing the storm-lashed field.

“Don’t look back, or you’ll die.”

“Oh…”

Why did he suddenly feel like dying?