Volume Two: Shadows of the Past Chapter Two: Unaccustomed to the Climate? Remember to Rest?

Although the final outcome of the online smear campaign against Chen Jing was reversed, those unscrupulous internet influencers who had deliberately slandered him did not face any real consequences. Even if Lin Xi truly decided to take them to court, the truth is, the internet often remains a lawless land, and the police can't realistically send people to arrest every offender.

Though the masterminds couldn't be punished, Lin Xi had already achieved her desired result. Chen Jing's reputation soared, and his image became nearly flawless; everything else no longer mattered.

Two days later, at Xiang City International Airport.

Two men wearing masks emerged from the airport exit, and immediately noticed two beautiful women waiting by the doors. These women were, of course, Lin Xi and Lin Zitan. The two men were Chen Jing and Chen Shuo, just returned from overseas.

As Chen Jing’s dance coach, Chen Shuo naturally accompanied him to the International Street Dance Competition. Before their departure, neither of them brought an assistant—Chen Jing felt there was no need. After informing the company of their itinerary, the company simply assumed they were going for the experience, like a holiday, and didn’t send anyone along. Thus, Chen Jing and Chen Shuo set off alone, like two lone warriors, to participate in the competition.

“Jing!” Lin Zitan recognized Chen Jing’s figure and waved enthusiastically.

Chen Jing saw them too, and he and Chen Shuo walked over.

As they approached, Lin Xi greeted them coolly, “You must be exhausted.”

Chen Jing shrugged, as if to say it was no trouble at all.

Chen Shuo, however, forced a wry smile. “It was exhausting, but not for me—Jing bore the brunt of it.”

“Oh? What happened? Did something go wrong while you were abroad?” Lin Zitan asked, her curiosity piqued.

Chen Shuo was about to answer, but Chen Jing cut in first, “Let’s talk in the car—there are too many people here, not the best place for a chat.”

Chen Shuo nodded. “Jing’s right, let’s talk in the car.”

Once inside, Chen Jing and Chen Shuo removed their masks. Despite a long night of travel, Chen Jing looked as spirited as ever, unchanged from before their trip. However, Lin Xi and Lin Zitan noticed Chen Shuo appeared haggard, as if recovering from a serious illness, heightening their curiosity about what exactly had happened during the competition.

On the way back to the company, Chen Shuo slowly recounted everything: their experiences abroad, the competition process, and that final, jaw-dropping result.

The International Street Dance Competition was held in the capital of the Super Britannia Empire. For context, this world was different from Chen Jing’s previous life. Unlike before, with countless nations, there were now only four great powers: the Federal Union of All Colors, where all races mingled; the Super Britannia Empire, dominated by white people; the Black Chiefdoms, mostly black; and the Huaxia Dynasty, where Chen Jing hailed from.

Chen Jing and Chen Shuo arrived in Super Britannia a day early, reaching the competition venue in the evening. At first, Chen Shuo worried they’d have problems communicating without a translator, but to his surprise, Chen Jing began speaking fluent English. To Chen Shuo’s bewilderment, he smoothly handled all communication with the organizers, who then arranged their accommodations.

“You speak English too, Jing?” In their room, Chen Shuo marveled as Chen Jing unpacked.

Since they were there for the competition, the organizers had assigned them a twin room.

“It’s nothing, really. I know a bit of every language,” Chen Jing shrugged. “In our line of work, you need to be familiar with different languages—you never know when you’ll need them.”

“Amazing!”

Chen Jing was modest, but Chen Shuo could tell his English was far more than just “a bit.” Even without understanding much himself, Chen Shuo could see from their smooth exchange that Chen Jing’s English was flawless.

With a full day before the competition, Chen Shuo suggested Chen Jing rest and adjust to the time zone, especially avoiding unfamiliar food to prevent any illness before the competition. Chen Jing readily agreed, appreciating the wisdom.

The evening passed quietly. Yet when Chen Shuo woke the next morning, Chen Jing had already gone for a morning run.

“Why are you running this morning? You should be resting and conserving your energy,” Chen Shuo frowned, especially as Chen Jing was dressed thinly.

Come on, it’s around zero degrees out—can’t you wear more? Aren’t you afraid of catching a cold?

“It’s nothing, just a habit. I feel sluggish if I don’t run,” Chen Jing laughed. “I only jogged a little, no big deal.” With that, he grabbed fresh clothes and went to shower.

“All right, just take care of yourself. Health is important—if you get sick, the competition’s over,” Chen Shuo continued to advise him earnestly.

Chen Jing just smiled and agreed, then went to shower.

Chen Shuo sighed helplessly, suddenly feeling that their competition might end in the first round—Chen Jing didn’t seem to be taking things seriously. He’d hoped to help Chen Jing advance a few rounds, but now, not losing in the first round would be a blessing.

At noon, Chen Jing stayed quietly in their room, browsing the internet and watching videos, not going out.

Chen Shuo felt relieved at this, but his relief didn’t last. That night, while Chen Shuo was showering, Chen Jing slipped out.

It was past ten when Chen Jing returned.

“All right, tell me—where did you go for so long?” Chen Shuo said quietly as Chen Jing came in, sounding like a wife waiting at home for a wayward husband.

“Uh, you’re still up?” Chen Jing deflected, grinning sheepishly.

“Get some rest. Tomorrow is important,” Chen Shuo sighed, not wanting to say more.

“Okay.” Chen Jing offered no explanation, simply got ready and went to shower.

Afterward, both men went straight to bed without further conversation.

That night, Chen Shuo tossed and turned, sleeping fitfully, plagued by nightmares.

The next morning, Chen Jing woke up on time, brushed his teeth, and found Chen Shuo still dazed, sitting on the edge of the bed. Somewhat surprised, Chen Jing said, “Shuo, go freshen up.”

“Huh? Oh.” Chen Shuo replied groggily, bracing himself to stand, but his hand slipped and he fell limply back on the bed.

Seeing this, Chen Jing frowned. Walking over, he helped Chen Shuo up and touched his forehead—sure enough, Chen Shuo was feverish.

It was hardly a surprise; jet lag and acclimatization could easily make one ill. On top of that, Chen Shuo’s years of strict dieting to maintain his dancer’s physique had weakened his constitution. Chen Jing wasn’t surprised at all that he’d fallen sick.

Chen Jing settled Chen Shuo back in bed. “Rest well; you don’t need to come to the competition today.”

“Let me come with you, I can manage…” Chen Shuo protested weakly, unwilling to sleep.

“Just rest. It’s only the first round—I’ll go alone,” Chen Jing shook his head.

His fever was low, nothing serious. Rest would cure him, but if he forced himself to go out, it would only get worse.

Chen Shuo knew he couldn’t push himself, so he answered weakly, “All right. Good luck—I’ll wait for your news.” His usually androgynous voice sounded even softer in illness.

“Mhm, rest well. I’ll be back soon.” Chen Jing nodded, poured a glass of hot water, and set it by the bed. “Here’s some water—remember to drink if you’re thirsty.” Then he left the room.

“Mm.” Chen Shuo was already drifting off, his mind foggy with concern for Chen Jing, but too tired to stay awake. He slowly closed his eyes.

Who knows how much time passed before Chen Shuo, half-awake, heard the door open and someone approach. He felt a hand on his forehead and heard a low murmur: “Doesn’t seem so hot anymore.”

The person left, the room falling silent again. After another stretch of time, the door opened once more. This time, Chen Shuo forced his eyes open and saw Chen Jing walk in, carrying a bag.

Noticing he was awake, Chen Jing came over. “You’re up? Have some hot porridge. You’re still feverish, probably not hungry, but you need to eat something.”

“Mm.”

Chen Jing helped him sit up, opened the takeout box, and handed him a bowl of porridge.

Chen Shuo ate quietly, finishing the bowl and placing the utensils on the bedside table.

“Do you want more?” Chen Jing asked.

Chen Shuo shook his head, silent. Chen Jing packed up, preparing to take out the trash. As he stood, Chen Shuo called out to him.

“Jing?” Chen Shuo looked at him apologetically, biting his lip.

“What’s wrong?” Chen Jing turned, puzzled.

“I’m sorry… If I hadn’t fallen ill, you wouldn’t have been eliminated in the first round.” Chen Shuo was convinced that his sickness had caused Chen Jing to lose.

He’d come along to coach Chen Jing, but instead became a burden, which filled him with guilt.

“Eliminated? What are you talking about?” Chen Jing looked bewildered.

“Didn’t you lose in the first round?”

“No, I advanced to the next round,” Chen Jing shrugged.

“Huh?” Chen Shuo stared, mouth agape, at a loss for words.