Chapter 15: Chun-Li
After that ambiguous, panicked eye contact, Xiahou Ming looked away first.
Her cheeks burned.
To mask her flustered state, she grabbed the basket of game coins and said, “Still… playing? Let’s check out over there.”
Yu Yuhui watched her feigned calm, a sly smile flickering before she composed herself.
“Okay,” she replied softly.
They settled around a classic Street Fighter II eight-player machine.
For the first time, they shifted from allies to opponents.
Following instinct, Xiahou Ming picked Ken, the cocky blond in a red gi.
Yu Yuhui scanned the character select screen, stopping on Chun-Li, the only female fighter.
“Round One, Fight!”
The first match was chaos.
They mashed joysticks like headless chickens, attack buttons clattering.
Onscreen, Ken and Chun-Li flailed like drunks, trading sloppy punches and kicks.
Two girls in school uniforms playing a fighting game drew eyes in the arcade.
A crowd of idle boys gathered.
“Two girls playing Street Fighter?”
“They’re kinda good.”
Whispers buzzed.
Xiahou Ming felt uneasy under the stares—her first time as a “girl” facing strangers’ unbiased gazes.
But soon, she stopped caring.
In the second match, things shifted.
Xiahou Ming mastered Hadouken, keeping distance with projectiles.
Yu Yuhui exploited Chun-Li’s Hundred Ripping Kicks, dominating close-range with speed.
The crowd’s amusement turned to surprise.
“Damn, these girls picked it up fast.”
“Look at Chun-Li’s player—she’s relentless.”
By the third match, it was a true duel of skill and mind.
No fancy combos, but their punches and kicks were sharp.
Xiahou Ming used Hadoukens to control space; Yu Yuhui jumped precisely over fireballs, forcing close combat where she thrived.
Fully immersed, Xiahou Ming forgot the world.
When her Rising Dragon Punch countered Chun-Li’s jump, she shouted in excitement, her clear, youthful voice ringing out.
In a nail-biting finish, with both characters at a sliver of health, Xiahou Ming’s Ken landed a heavy punch a fraction faster than Yu Yuhui’s kicks.
“KO!”
Xiahou Ming leaped up, cheering, “I win!”
She turned to gloat, but Yu Yuhui was smiling genuinely, thrilled by the duel.
A discordant voice cut in.
“Hey, little sister, nice playing.”
Three rough-looking boys in mismatched school uniforms pushed through.
The leader, sporting an Aaron Kwok middle part and an unlit cigarette, smirked.
“Play a few rounds with us?”
He reached for their coin basket.
Yu Yuhui’s brows furrowed faintly.
Xiahou Ming’s smile vanished.
She stepped in front of Yu Yuhui.
“Get lost.”
“Hey, feisty!” The middle-part guy, stung by her glare, snapped, “Who’re you talking to? Believe me, I’ll—”
Crash!
Glass shattered.
Xiahou Ming whipped around.
Yu Yuhui had stepped forward, holding a half-broken soda bottle, its jagged edge forward.
Orange soda mixed with blood dripped down the middle-part guy’s forehead onto the grimy floor.
The arcade fell dead silent.
Everyone froze at the girl’s sudden violence.
The middle-part guy clutched his head, staring at Yu Yuhui’s calm face and the weapon in her hand.
“Blood… blood…”
His two friends paled, stammering incoherently.
Yu Yuhui said nothing, her dark eyes fixed on them.
“What the hell are you doing!?” the arcade owner bellowed, rushing from the counter with a feather duster, face ashen.
“Ladies, brothers, I’m begging you! No trouble here! Fight outside! My business can’t take this!”
He grabbed toilet paper to stop the bleeding but stayed at a distance.
The arcade erupted in chaos.
Xiahou Ming snapped out of her shock.
Her old street-fight instincts flooded back.
She knew they had to leave before police or school staff arrived.
“What are you standing there for?” she growled, grabbing Yu Yuhui’s wrist.
“Run!”
Yu Yuhui, caught off guard, didn’t resist.
Like slippery fish, they wove through the chaotic crowd, slipping out the arcade’s back door.
They sprinted through dim alleys.
Xiahou Ming heard Yu Yuhui’s ragged breathing, unaccustomed to exertion, and her own heart pounding with thrill and nerves.
Only after confirming no one followed did they stop in an empty corner, leaning against a wall, gasping.
Xiahou Ming looked at Yu Yuhui’s flushed, panting face and laughed for no reason.
Yu Yuhui smiled faintly back.
“Let’s come again,” she said softly.
“Boss might not let us back in,” Xiahou Ming replied, grinning.
*
It was rush hour, alleys packed with workers and students on bikes.
Xiahou Ming instinctively walked ahead, shielding Yu Yuhui from the crowd.
She noticed Yu Yuhui’s stiffness in the throng.
When another wave of people surged, Xiahou Ming grabbed her hand.
It was cold, but Yu Yuhui didn’t pull away.
“You don’t like crowds, do you?”
Yu Yuhui didn’t answer, letting Xiahou Ming hold her hand.
A warm emotion stirred in Xiahou Ming’s chest.
She realized she was… looking forward to their “next time.”
But she didn’t see, across the crowd, a familiar figure standing frozen.
Ling Yicai, fresh from school, heading to her Wednesday piano class, schoolbag in hand.
She saw them, their hands clasped, Yu Yuhui’s relaxed expression, and an unfamiliar tenderness in Xiahou Ming’s eyes.
Her face paled.
Her schoolbag dropped with a thud.
Xiahou Ming sensed something, glancing back in confusion.
But there, only blurry faces flowed by.