The soccer ball soared high into the sky. With a bang, the tall boy's body crashed to the ground, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. His limbs twitched amid wet sputtering sounds, leaving a ghastly sight. The laughter was abruptly cut off as though seized by an invisible hand. More than a dozen people stared at their fallen companion in shock, and two girls even screamed.
"Uh... sorry, excuse me, I meant catch it with your hands. Why did you... uh..." Jiaming wore an innocent, helpless expression. "Why did you use your face?"
Seeing him reduced to that state, Lingjing wiped the dust from her face and looked over at him, unable to suppress a laugh. Seeing that their side had gained the upper hand, Shasha swung her wooden stick twice but did not charge forward again. The boy who had rushed over earlier to play the good guy saw what had happened to his companion behind him and pointed at Jiaming as he moved to rush over. "You actually..."
"Actually what? Take one more step and see what happens!" Before he had taken two steps, Shasha had already raised her stick at him.
Around this time every evening, the square was usually filled with students with nothing better to do than take a walk. The commotion immediately drew everyone's attention. The boy in front was ultimately afraid of that stick. Pointing at Jiaming, he said, "This isn't over today. If you're a man, come over here. We don't want to hit women!"
The moment he finished speaking, Shasha swung her stick at him. He raised a hand to block it and staggered back several steps, baring his teeth in pain. "Fine, it's not over! Who's afraid of you pansies?"
As she spoke, the girl brandished her stick and