Zi Han looked at the blood.
Then at his face.
Ming Ye's eyes dropped to hers for one second; it was brief and unreadable, before he turned back to the court and threw the ball back into play.
Around her, the crowd had already erupted.
"Did you see that—"
"He caught it with his bare hand—"
"Is that blood?"
"Ming Ye literally just—"
"Wait, was he protecting her?"
"Who is she? Why would Ming Ye—"
Everyone was surprised because this was unlike Ming Ye. In fact, Ming Ye was most likely to let the ball hit the victim and then laugh at them.
The game continued.
Zi Han sat very still for a moment.
She looked down, lost in thought.
He had stopped the ball from hitting her and had gotten injured because of it.
But wait, it didn't make sense, how could he have gotten injured by the ball? The only reasonable conclusion she could come up with was that he probably had an old injury that got reopened by the ball.
