Hank Chu was Evan Lin's childhood buddy—they'd been inseparable since they were little, always in the same grade.
Back in elementary school, it was Hank who first dragged Evan to the arcade to play King of Fighters and Dynasty Wars. Later, in middle school, Hank got him to sneak off to the internet café a few times too.
Hank's family background was pretty much the same as Evan's—his parents were factory workers. But when it came to grades, Hank always had the edge.
Not only that, Hank was built way sturdier. Evan remembered the last time he'd seen him, the guy was already about 1.8 meters tall.
As Evan walked, all sorts of old memories floated through his mind. He kept going down the row of single-story houses, then turned right into a narrow alley at the end.
Just as he got there, he spotted Hank Chu about to head out, basketball in hand.
“Whoa! Evan Lin! Hahaha!”
Hank's face lit up when he saw Evan. He strode over and threw an arm around Evan's shoulders. “Not bad, man! Summer break's halfway over and you still haven't come back?”
“I came looking for you a bunch of times these past few days. Your mom kept saying you weren't back yet. Dude, what the heck have you been eating? How'd you get so tall all of a sudden?”
After a few lines, Hank suddenly stopped and looked Evan up and down, holding out his hand to compare their heights, his face full of surprise.
Evan used to be just about 1.7 meters tall, but now he was a solid 1.76.
And not just taller—he'd filled out a lot, too.
“Food, obviously. What else would I eat? You think you're the only one allowed to grow? Why can't I shoot up a few centimeters too?” Evan joked back.
Seeing Hank again actually put Evan in a pretty good mood.
“Alright, sounds good! Let's go, let's go—I'm just heading out to play some basketball. Come with me! We'll shoot some hoops this morning, then tonight we'll call Ken and grab some barbecue. Ken's dad, that guy's raking it in these days.”
The Ken Hank mentioned was also one of Evan's childhood friends.
Ken's dad used to be a driver around here, but later he partnered up with some folks, bought a few freight trucks, and made a ton of money—so they moved out of the old neighborhood.
Hank tucked the basketball under his arm and headed out with Evan.
“So, how's it been in Minghai? Anyone messing with you over there?” Hank asked, dribbling the ball as he walked ahead.
He went to First High and had great grades. Plus, with his basketball skills, there were always girls crushing on him.
Compared to them, Evan Lin looked pretty plain and forgettable.
“No one dares mess with me now. If anything, I'm the one bullying people.”
Hank just curled his lip at that, clearly not buying it. He knew Evan too well—if anyone had bullied him, Evan would never admit it. Total 'report the good news, hide the bad' type.
The basketball court was on a vacant lot near the old gear factory.
Back in the day, Whitewood County’s gear factory was a state-owned enterprise—one of the area’s flagship industries. But after reforms and restructuring, it couldn’t keep up, got tossed from hand to hand, and ended up barely surviving as a privately run business.
The basketball hoop was seriously old, and there were a bunch of bikes parked nearby—all ancient rides belonging to the factory workers.
“Hey! Over here!”
There were already five guys at the court.
Each one of these guys was at least 1.8 meters tall, and all of them looked way more muscular than Evan.
“Yo, Hank, what took you so long? We’ve been waiting! Come on, three-on-three—perfect teams!”
The guy who spoke was tall and burly, with a buzz cut and a tough-looking face. He was wearing a red basketball jersey and waved Hank over.
“Hey, I’m here, aren’t I? How was I supposed to know you guys started so early?” Hank walked over, then paused and glanced back at Evan, hesitating. He turned again to the group: “Yo, how about we do one-on-one, three shots each, loser sits out? Otherwise, with three-on-three, my buddy can’t even play.”
“Your buddy?” The guys finally looked over at Evan standing next to Hank.
“Does he even play? Never seen him before.”
“Kinda unfamiliar face—is he from First High?”
“Why don’t we play first, and if anyone gets tired, he can sub in.”
The group started talking as soon as they saw Evan.
To them, Evan was shorter and skinnier than everyone there. And the real issue? These First High top students had never even seen him around.
In Whitewood County, First High was for the best students, Second High was a step down, and Third High—the vocational school—was the bottom rung, basically a hangout for troublemakers and wannabe gangsters.
Seeing an unfamiliar face like Evan’s, they instantly lost interest.
Most likely, Evan wasn’t from First High. If not, he had to be from Second High—or worse, Third High, that vocational school everyone called a trash factory.
Whether it was Second High or the vo-tech, none of these self-styled top students wanted anything to do with kids from those places.
“He’s not from First High, he’s…”
Hearing his classmates talk, Hank realized they’d gotten it wrong. He was just about to explain when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
Hank paused, turned around, and saw Evan standing behind him.
“Go play, man. You know how trash I am at basketball—getting on the court would just be asking for a beatdown.”
“Besides, I just ate. I’ll just sit here and watch you play.”
Evan smiled at Hank, not wanting him to feel awkward about it.
Hank hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, you chill here. I’ll go play for a bit, then we’ll grab Ken and hit the internet café.”
With that, Hank ran off toward the court.
Six guys, three-on-three. The match was pretty intense.
Evan couldn’t care less about all their little schemes and pecking orders.
To Evan, these guys were all insignificant.
What mattered was Hank’s genuine brotherhood—the kind that came straight from the heart, not knowing Evan’s real identity.
No strings attached, no agenda.
Evan found a stone bench on the sidelines, sat down, and watched Hank play.
Back in the day, Evan sucked at basketball. But now, he figured he could stand a hundred meters away and still sink every shot—no sweat.
Same with soccer—there was no challenge left.
Evan yawned, kicking back and enjoying a rare moment of peace.
Just then, two guys and a girl walked up outside the court.