IF Line – If the Young Master’s Money Hadn’t Been Scammed…
This chapter is based on a reader’s prompt from the comments: If the young master’s money hadn’t been scammed, how would the two of them have met?
A little inspiration suddenly struck me, so I’m sharing it with everyone~
…
Summer is the perfect season for swimming.
At 7:30 in the morning, there weren’t many people exercising at Rongda’s swimming pool.
Crystal-clear water rippled in the pool, distorting the pale blue mosaic tiles at the bottom into shimmering illusions. The stuffy, humid air mixed with the smell of chlorine hit you in the face. If you stood at the edge and looked down for too long, you’d start to feel dizzy.
By the poolside, a young figure wrapped in a towel cautiously approached the water’s edge. He swallowed nervously and pumped himself up.
—Xia Yiyang, you can do this! It’s not like your limbs are brand new—why wouldn’t you know how to swim?!
The boy standing by the pool was Xia Yiyang, eighteen years old, a freshman who’d just enrolled at Rongda this year.
Not long ago, Xia Yiyang had gone through his first-ever course selection. He’d been full of confidence before the selection, but when he got into the system, his computer completely froze. All the courses and professors he’d wanted were snatched up by those with faster fingers. In a daze, he frantically clicked submit, not caring which professor was lenient or which gave high grades—as long as he got classes, that was all that mattered!
And the result of that chaotic selection was… his PE class turned out to be swimming.
Ugh, he’d wanted to choose Tai Chi!
But swimming was fine too—he’d taken swimming lessons back in elementary school. Even though he hadn’t been in the water for years, as long as he found his groove again, it would definitely be no—
—Glug glug glug glug!
On the very first day of class, Xia Yiyang happily drowned.
Why hadn’t anyone told him that swimming was something you completely forgot after a few years of not practicing?!
Before getting in the water, he’d boasted to his classmates that his nickname was the “Little Frog Prince of Beijing Swimming” (he admitted it wasn’t a great nickname). Who knew that the moment this little frog jumped into the water, he’d nearly croaked and sunk straight to the bottom.
After much reflection, Xia Yiyang decided to secretly put in extra training. To that end, he set eight alarms specifically to drag himself out of bed at the crack of dawn, arriving at the pool right as it opened so he could get some splashing practice in and rediscover the feeling of being a happy little frog.
But maybe because nearly drowning in class had given him too much psychological trauma, he stood by the pool wrapped in his towel, hesitating for ages without daring to jump in.
“Excuse me—if you’re not getting in, could you please move aside?”
A low male voice suddenly came from behind him.
Xia Yiyang was startled and instinctively turned around. The first thing that met his eyes was a broad, tanned chest with strong pectorals and wide shoulders. The man’s arms were solid with muscle, and as he spoke, his chest vibrated slightly, radiating power.
Xia Yiyang stared at the man’s chest, transfixed, sour as a whole lemon—geez, why was the world so unfair? How much would he have to train to get a body like that?
“Excuse me?… Excuse me?” The man raised his voice and called him twice more. “Are you getting in or not?”
Xia Yiyang snapped out of it and dizzily looked up at him.
The unfamiliar man before him not only had a great body but was also quite handsome. Other people looked like boiled eggs in swim caps, but the cap only accentuated his facial features—sharp and angular, with a gaze that slanted downward from the corners of his eyes, giving off an air of aloofness.
He looked a bit fierce.
Xia Yiyang decided not to rush into the water and quickly scooted aside to make room for the stranger.
The man stood by the starting block, casually rolling his shoulders. As he moved, his back muscles stretched, and the two rows of shark-like muscles along his waist tightened cleanly until they disappeared into that tight, narrow square-cut fabric. His swim trunks were an understated black, with light cascading from above, casting a dark, full shadow across the fabric.
Then, the man brought his hands together and raised them high above his head. His feet suddenly pushed off the ground—his body arced through the air in a clean, smooth curve, like a fish diving nimbly into the water.
After entering the water, the man swam underwater for a few meters before slowly surfacing. His arms alternated in a rhythmic crawl, and his feet gently kicked the water’s surface.
After warming up with a lap, the man switched strokes—from freestyle to butterfly. No matter the stroke, it was beautiful and textbook-perfect. Waves carried his body forward, droplets sliding off his taut back and reluctantly merging back into the pool.
Xia Yiyang really didn’t want to admit it, but he’d been completely mesmerized watching a stranger swim.
No, no, no!
The young man shook his head, trying to shake off some subtle, inexplicable feeling. He’d paid to swim, not to be a spectator on the sidelines!
He pumped himself up, hung his towel on the nearby rack, put on his swim cap and goggles, shook out his limbs, and returned to the poolside.
Of course, there was no way he was diving in—he could only obediently grip the stainless steel handrail and step down the ladder, one foot at a time, into the water.
Hiss! The water was freezing!
Even though it was a regular-temperature pool, it was still much colder than on land. The young man hopped around on one foot in the water for a good while, splashing water onto his shoulders with both hands until his body gradually adjusted and he stopped shivering.
Just then, the man in the adjacent lane finished another lap and returned to the starting point. At the moment he touched the wall, he flipped over and switched to backstroke!
He passed by Xia Yiyang—and whether it was Xia Yiyang’s imagination or not, he could have sworn the man deliberately glanced at him.
…Was he mocking him for being a newbie?
So what if he knew a few more strokes? Big deal!
Xia Yiyang thought, fuming—he was the Little Frog Prince of swimming. He absolutely could not be looked down upon!
He got into position immediately, pressed his hands together in front of his chest, and lunged forward—Little frog, ribbit ribbit, off he went (go!)…
…
Sheng Lin couldn’t explain why he was paying so much attention to the boy in the adjacent lane.
Rongda’s swimming pool was sparsely populated early in the morning. Sheng Lin always came right when it opened for his morning workout and was familiar with the regular faces that frequented the pool.
But today, there was a stranger by the poolside—a boy he’d never seen before.
He looked about seventeen or eighteen, probably a new freshman. There was an air of innocence and clarity about him. He was wrapped in a panda-patterned towel that even had a hood shaped like a panda head—the loose hood sitting on top of the boy’s head made him look even younger.
But he’d lingered by the pool for a long time without getting in.
Did he not know how to swim?
Yet his swim trunks, goggles, and cap were all top-tier brands—surely a beginner wouldn’t buy a full set of expensive gear before even starting, right?
Sheng Lin forced himself to focus back on his lane. He was always focused when exercising; a moderate morning cardio session kept him energized and sharp for the rest of the day. After two laps, the water in the lane beside him stirred—the boy who’d been hesitating at the edge had finally gotten in.
The boy had a small frame, fair skin, and stood trembling in the shallow end, shivering uncontrollably.
Sheng Lin’s heart stirred. He flipped over into backstroke, slowed down as he glided past the boy, and couldn’t help letting his gaze fall on him.
Sheng Lin wanted to tell him that although the water was cold, once you started swimming, you’d warm up.
But he didn’t speak—how strange. Since when did he meddle in other people’s business?
Fortunately, it wasn’t long before the boy finally adjusted to the water temperature. He pressed his hands together in front of his chest and lunged forward into the water.
—Oh, so he was a little frog.
Breaststroke was the foundation of all swimming strokes. Beginners always started with frog kicks and frog pulls. Kicking both legs back simultaneously, pulling both arms out to the sides—coordinating hands and feet propelled you forward. Most beginners could pick it up within ten lessons.
Sheng Lin watched that little frog, saw him splash around with both arms and legs for a couple of strokes, and then… sink.
Sheng Lin: “?!”
He froze—his first thought was that the boy was drowning! He instinctively stopped his pulling motion and was about to turn back to rescue him, but a few seconds later, the little frog suddenly lifted his head out of the water, spat out a stream of water, and sank again.
Sheng Lin: “…”
And so it went—the boy moved forward in a bizarre breaststroke: splash-splash-sink, splash-splash-sink… inching forward with tremendous difficulty.
He was swimming with all effort and zero efficiency.
Breaststroke came in two forms: “head-up” and “head-down.” As the names suggested, head-up meant keeping your head above water the whole time, while head-down meant keeping your head submerged, lifting it every two or three strokes to breathe.
The boy had clearly learned head-down breaststroke—but he didn’t know how to breathe. He could only desperately lift his head to spit out water before he ran out of air, then plunge back down to continue his blind struggle.
By the time he finished 100 meters, he’d probably be full of water.
On the 50-meter lane, Sheng Lin completed a full lap of backstroke, while that “head-down frog” had only just gotten 20 meters away from the starting block—not even halfway.
Sheng Lin tucked and turned, pushing off again.
Backstroke had always been his favorite stroke. He liked looking up at the lights on the high dome of the swimming pool and letting his mind go blank.
Just as he stretched his arms out to pull through the water again, he suddenly heard splashing that didn’t belong to him. The next second, a lively, kicking foot shot out from his blind spot at an angle—straight toward his head!!!
Sheng Lin: “!!”
He grabbed the other’s ankle by reflex.
Luckily, they were in the shallow end. He immediately stood up in the water, pulling the boy he’d grabbed by the ankle up with him.
Their position was incredibly awkward now—one of the boy’s ankles was held in his grip, while the other leg kicked about in the water. To keep his balance, the boy flailed his arms, grabbing onto the lane floats behind him. Water and spray covered his face, making him look both pathetic and comical.
“What’s your problem?!” The boy pulled off his goggles, revealing a pair of eyes blazing with fury, and struck first: “Why are you grabbing my foot?!”
Even angry, those eyes were strikingly beautiful.
Sheng Lin’s tone was cold: “If I hadn’t grabbed you, you would’ve kicked me in the head.”
The boy choked on his words, but still argued back: “That’s your fault too! Don’t you watch where you’re going when you do backstroke? How did you end up in my lane?”
Sheng Lin: “…”
The little frog was so self-righteous that for a split second, Sheng Lin actually wondered if he’d made a swimming error and drifted into someone else’s lane. But…
Sheng Lin looked back at his own lane, then at the adjacent one: “Take a good look—who exactly swam into whose lane?”
Xia Yiyang: “?” He turned around blankly and only then realized—he really wasn’t in his own lane!
He was a head-down frog, and while paddling blindly, he’d accidentally ducked under the lane floats and switched lanes without even knowing it! When he’d lifted his head to breathe, he’d kicked out and nearly landed his foot right in Sheng Lin’s face!
Realizing it was his fault, his entire body turned beet-red in an instant. Sheng Lin could clearly see the flush climb from the boy’s neck, spreading not only across his cheeks but even down to his chest—inside and out, he was completely cooked.
This little frog might have a temper, but… he had a pretty thin skin.
Just then, a sharp whistle suddenly sounded from the poolside, piercing through the entire venue.
The lifeguard on duty came running toward them with a megaphone, blowing the whistle as he ran, yelling at the top of his lungs: “Lane 8! You two male students in Lane 8! The school pool is a public space—what kind of fooling around are you doing there?! Take your romance outside!”
Sheng Lin: “…”
Xia Yiyang: “…”
That shout drew the attention of every morning exerciser in all the surrounding lanes. So now everyone saw the two young men in Lane 8—one holding the other’s ankle, whether rubbing it or… who knew what.
Sheng Lin immediately let go, and Xia Yiyang quickly scrambled back to his own lane.
Pulling and shoving? They’d only just met!
Romance?! They were both guys—oh wait, this was Rongcheng. Guys and guys could date here too.
Xia Yiyang was so mortified he wished he could sink straight to the bottom of the pool.
After he finally managed to calm down (aka he’d surface before he drowned from holding his breath) and popped back up from the water, he saw that the stranger in the adjacent lane had already swum off.
The man had switched back to freestyle, his form just as flawless and graceful as before, showing no signs of being affected at all.
Neither the near-kicking incident from swimming into the wrong lane nor the lifeguard mistaking them for a pair of bickering lovers seemed to have left even a ripple in his mind.
Xia Yiyang hung onto the lane floats, watching the man swim farther and farther away, feeling a little guilty.
After all, he still owed him an apology.
…
The clock ticked on, and the pool gradually filled up with people—like dumplings being dropped into a pot.
At exactly 9 AM, Sheng Lin got out of the water and headed toward the locker room.
He didn’t notice that when he got out, the little frog in the adjacent lane also hurriedly climbed out of the water and followed him all the way into the locker room.
Sheng Lin grabbed his change of clothes, took a quick shower in the stalls, changed, and was about to leave with his bag when—just as he reached the exit of the swimming complex—a voice called out to him.
“Hey… uh, big brother from the next lane!” The voice was crisp and bright, tinged with urgency.
By some inexplicable instinct, Sheng Lin already knew who had called him.
He turned around—and sure enough, standing behind him was the boy from the adjacent lane.
The boy had come out in a hurry and hadn’t bothered to change properly—he’d just thrown on an oversized T-shirt over his swim trunks. He hadn’t even dried off properly, and the white fabric clung to his wet skin, almost completely transparent, with the faint outlines of two pale pink contours visible beneath.
The T-shirt barely reached below his hip line, with two slender, pale, straight legs extending from beneath it—at first glance, he looked like he was wearing nothing underneath at all.
In the pool, the boy had been wearing even less, but now—drenched and clinging—he looked far more suggestive than before.
“…What is it?” Sheng Lin’s voice came out a little dry. He hoped the other hadn’t noticed.
“Well,” the boy faltered, trying to say something. The next second, he lifted the plastic bag in his hand, pulled out a banana, and held it out to Sheng Lin. “This is for you!”
Sheng Lin: “?”
He looked at the banana, confused.
Seeing his confusion, Xia Yiyang quickly explained: “You need fast carbs after a workout!”
Sheng Lin: “…”
Then, one after another, Xia Yiyang produced two boiled eggs, a vacuum-sealed braised chicken leg, and a vacuum-sealed crab stick, thrusting them all into Sheng Lin’s hands.
Xia Yiyang: “Besides carbs, you also need to replenish protein right away!”
Sheng Lin stared at the bag full of food in the boy’s hands, genuinely curious whether he’d come to the pool to work out or to have a picnic.
Who eats this much after swimming?
The pile of food in Sheng Lin’s hands grew until he could barely hold it all.
He asked: “Why are you giving me all this?”
“I was in the wrong just now!” The boy cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on the ground instead of looking at him. “I’m a total beginner at swimming—I didn’t even realize I’d drifted into your lane. Back in the water, I not only kicked you but also argued with you unfairly, so… I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Sheng Lin was a little surprised.
He’d initially pegged the boy as the type who cared too much about saving face to admit when he was wrong. He hadn’t expected him to come all this way just to apologize.
After apologizing, the boy fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, looking up at him, holding his breath, waiting for a response.
Sheng Lin said: “Accidentally bumping or kicking someone in the pool is pretty common. It happened, and now it’s over. You don’t need to dwell on it.”
But that answer didn’t seem to satisfy Xia Yiyang. He had no idea how pitiful he looked right now—gazing at the other man with big, hopeful eyes, looking almost pitiable.
Sheng Lin had never seen such an obedient little thing before.
He was silent for three seconds, then finally said those three words: “Uh… ‘It’s okay.’”
Xia Yiyang clutched his chest in relief, and a smile finally broke across his face: “Great! You forgave me!”
Sheng Lin thought to himself—he’d never blamed him in the first place.
Still a kid, really. After sincerely saying “sorry,” he absolutely had to hear “it’s okay” in return. If he hadn’t heard it, he probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep tonight.
“Thanks for the fast carbs and protein.” Sheng Lin weighed the banana, eggs, braised chicken leg, and crab stick in his hands. “But if you gave them all to me, what are you going to eat?”
“I can’t eat right now.” Xia Yiyang answered, a little embarrassed. “I already drank my fill in the pool just now—Achoo!”
He suddenly sneezed. He hadn’t dried off after getting out, and the air conditioning blowing from above made him shiver violently.
Seeing that, Sheng Lin didn’t want to keep him any longer. He urged him to head back to the locker room, shower, and change clothes.
Xia Yiyang obediently said goodbye and turned to leave. His slender, graceful frame swayed inside the oversized white T-shirt. Now that one weight had been lifted from his mind, he bounced and hopped as he walked—a sight that made anyone who saw him feel a little warmer inside.
Whether it was the bright lights overhead or the piercing cicada chirps outside the window, Sheng Lin found himself distracted for a second, watching the boy’s retreating figure. Then, unexpectedly, he called out to him.
“You… do you need a swimming coach?”
“Huh?” The boy stopped, surprise written all over his face. “You’d teach me?”
“Yeah.”
“How much is the coaching fee?”
Sheng Lin looked down at the food in his hands: “This is enough.”
Xia Yiyang was even more thrilled. He’d seen with his own eyes how good Sheng Lin was at swimming! He hadn’t expected the man to be so generous and kind-hearted as to teach him for free! Geez, he’d even thought Sheng Lin was cold and fierce—what a misunderstanding of a good person.
He was ecstatic, chattering away: “So should I call you Coach, then?”
“No need.” Sheng Lin said. “I’m also a graduate of Rongda. Just call me Senior.”
“What’s your name, Senior?” The boy reached out his hand to him, his smile brighter than the sunlight outside. “My name is Xia Yiyang—Xia as in summer, Yi as in radiant, Yang as in sun.”
“Sheng Lin.” The man’s hands were full of food, so he couldn’t shake the boy’s hand in return.
But that was okay. When it came to teaching swimming, he’d have a hundred different ways to hold the boy’s hand.
“I’m a strict coach. Be prepared. If I make you cry, I won’t comfort you.”
Xia Yiyang said confidently: “That won’t happen!”
But at that moment, neither of them knew exactly what “that won’t happen” referred to.
Was it “I won’t cry”?
Or was it “I won’t comfort you”?
Or maybe—both of them would end up breaking their word.
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