Body command feeding world

Night, like a thick, dark cloth, slowly enveloped the campus of Yuying Middle School. The bell rang to signal the end of evening self-study, and the flow of people pouring out of the teaching building quickly dispersed, leaving only a few streetlights casting dappled shadows of trees in the dim, yellowish light.

Lin Ye, carrying his schoolbag, strolled slowly along the track at the edge of the playground. Wang Dahai had been picked up by his family's driver earlier, and before leaving, he clung to the car window, shouting that he wanted to get up early to practice at the court the next day, insisting on dragging Lin Ye along, only to be rebuffed by Lin Ye with a simple "too lazy to get up early."

He intended to go straight home, but somehow he turned towards the abandoned equipment room on the west side of the playground. There were old basketball hoops, broken rackets, and several boxes of dusty sports equipment left by previous students. Few people came here on weekdays, and it was so quiet that you could hear the wind blowing through the barbed wire.

Lin Ye felt a strange sense of familiarity with this place. Back in his first year of high school, he was cornered at the entrance of the equipment room by several older students who tried to steal his pocket money. It was Wang Dahai who rushed in to argue, only to be pushed to the ground and fall, hitting his forehead and bleeding. From then on, Lin Ye often came here to sit, sometimes just to daydream, sometimes to help Wang Dahai tidy up the broken equipment. Over time, it became a habit.

Pushing open the rusty iron gate, the creaking sound was particularly jarring in the empty playground. Lin Ye turned on his phone's flashlight, the warm yellow beam sweeping across the dust-filled room, where countless tiny dust particles floated slowly.

He walked straight to the innermost corner, where several old wooden crates were piled up, and on top of one of them was a dusty spear.

The gun body is made of dark black metal, the barrel is slightly bent, and the gun head has long lost its former sharpness, with the edges worn rounded, yet its former slenderness and sharpness are still evident. This is a prop gun left over from the school sports meet; it was abandoned here after last year's meet.

Lin Ye crouched down, his fingertips gently brushing the dust off the gun. The cool metallic touch transmitted through his fingertips, carrying a strange sense of weight. He had never been interested in such cold weapons before; he preferred running and competing on the basketball court to wielding swords and guns. But today, the moment his fingertips touched that cold metal, a strange flutter stirred within him.

Was it the aftermath of the afternoon's game on the field? Or did Chen Ze's words, "Even if you try your best, you can't catch up with my starting point," strike a chord with something?

Lin Ye couldn't explain it. He simply gripped the gun barrel, slowly stood up, and hoisted the spear onto his shoulder. The spear was heavy, causing his shoulder to sag slightly, yet it brought a strange sense of security.

He walked to the open space in the equipment room, turned off his phone flashlight, and, using the faint moonlight coming in from the window, tried to raise the long gun and make a swinging motion.

"call--"

The spear shaft sliced ​​through the air, creating a gust of wind that swept away the dust on the ground. His movements were somewhat clumsy, and he nearly dropped the spear due to a loss of balance. Lin Ye paused for a moment, then chuckled softly, regained his footing, and swung the spear again.

One, two, three...

At first, his movements were stiff and clumsy, and the weight of the spear made his arms ache, forcing him to stop and rest after only a few swings. But gradually, he seemed to find his rhythm, and his arm movements became more and more fluid, the trajectory of the spear as it cut through the air becoming more and more stable. Although he still lacked any particular technique, each swing of the spear brought a sense of exhilarating release.

Sweat trickled down his forehead, dripping onto the gun barrel, only to be quickly carried away by the evening breeze. Lin Ye's breathing gradually quickened, his shoulders aching slightly from holding the gun for so long, but he showed no sign of stopping.

Under the moonlight, the boy's shadow stretched long, a long rifle slung over his shoulder, as he repeatedly thrust and parried in the empty equipment room. There was no coach to guide him, no teammates to cooperate with him, only himself and this dusty old rifle.

After an unknown amount of time, a soft footstep came from the doorway of the equipment room.

Lin Ye abruptly stopped what he was doing, gripped his spear tightly, and turned his head to look warily.

Under the moonlight, a slender figure stood in the doorway, holding an open notebook in her hand, the pen tip hovering over the paper, clearly attracted by the commotion inside.

It is Ye Hong.

When Ye Hong saw the spear on Lin Ye's shoulder and his sweat-drenched body with strands of hair clinging to his cheeks, a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes, quickly turning into a gentle worry. She walked in quietly, her steps light, afraid of disturbing Lin Ye.

"Lin Ye, what are you doing here?" Ye Hong's voice was soft, with a hint of curiosity. "This gun... is it a prop from the school sports meet? I remember seeing it last year."

Lin Ye loosened his grip on the gun barrel, gently leaned the spear against the wall, wiped the sweat from his face, and said with a hint of barely perceptible embarrassment, "Just passing by, having some fun."

Ye Hong walked to his side, her gaze falling on the spear. She sighed softly, "It's been here for a long time. The shaft is bent, and the tip is dull." She reached out and gently touched the edge of the spearhead with her fingertips. "Do you like guns? I've never seen you handle these before."

Lin Ye was silent for a few seconds, looking down at the spear. A hint of confusion flashed in his eyes, but then something clear gradually settled in: "I don't know, it's just that when I picked it up just now, I thought... it was quite interesting."

He couldn't quite describe the feeling. Was it curiosity about the gun itself? Or a yearning for control over power and rhythm? That afternoon on the court, he beat Chen Ze with his agile movement and accurate shooting, but that victory didn't seem to satisfy him enough.

At this moment, holding this old gun, he could clearly feel the power flowing through his arm and hear the sound of the wind cutting through the barrel as he swung it. He was so focused and selfless that he had never experienced anything like it before.

Ye Hong looked at the light in his eyes, a slight smile playing on her lips. "It's good that it's interesting. But this gun is just a prop; it has no lethality. If you really like it, you can look up some information about it later."

She paused, then added, "I remember there's a row of books about melee weapons and shooting sports on the third floor of the school library. They explain the structure of guns and how to use them. If you want to see them, I can go with you."

Lin Ye turned to look at Ye Hong. Her cheeks glowed softly in the moonlight, her eyes sparkled like they held starlight, and her sincerity was undisguised.

His heart stirred slightly, and his previously chaotic thoughts seemed to be soothed by these gentle words.

"Okay." Lin Ye nodded gently, his voice a few decibels lower than usual. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Ye Hong waved her hand, walked to his side, picked up the schoolbag that was placed to the side, and said, "I originally came to this playground to memorize vocabulary words, but I heard some noise here, so I came to check. I didn't expect to see you practicing shooting, which is quite a surprise."

She looked at the long spear, then at Lin Ye's reddened hands and arms, and said softly, "You've been practicing for quite a while, haven't you? Are you tired? Take a rest first; the evening breeze is cool, don't catch a cold."

As she spoke, she took a bottle of mineral water out of her bag and handed it to Lin Ye: "I just bought it, I haven't drunk it yet."

Lin Ye took the water, his fingertips brushing against hers. Both of them stiffened slightly before quickly withdrawing their hands. Lin Ye unscrewed the cap, took a big gulp, and the cool water slid down his throat, relieving the dryness and clearing his mind somewhat.

Ye Hong stood to the side, saying nothing, simply watching him quietly. The moonlight bathed her, casting a soft glow upon her. Her gaze fell upon Lin Ye, without a trace of disgust or curiosity, only pure concern.

Lin Ye finished his water, screwed the cap back on, and handed it back to Ye Hong. He looked at the spear, a newfound determination in his eyes: "I want to practice properly."

"Yes!" Ye Hong nodded vigorously, her eyes full of encouragement. "You'll definitely be able to improve! You're very serious about everything you do, so you'll definitely be able to improve your shooting too."

Looking at her gentle smile, Lin Ye felt a warmth in his heart, and a faint smile appeared on his lips as well.

Just then, the door to the equipment room was pushed open again, and a figure rushed in with a gust of cold wind.

"Lin Ye! You were here after all!"

Chen Ze's voice was filled with hostility, and behind him were two henchmen holding several baseball bats.

Clearly, he hadn't let the afternoon's incident at the stadium go, and had come specifically to cause trouble for Lin Ye.

Lin Ye's eyes instantly turned cold. He subconsciously stood in front of Ye Hong, gently patting her back to signal her to hide behind her.

Ye Hong's face paled slightly, but she did not back down. She just gripped the hem of her clothes tightly and whispered, "Lin Ye, be careful."

Chen Ze saw the long gun on Lin Ye's shoulder, and then saw him standing in front of Ye Hong. His mockery deepened: "Oh, you're quite the actor. Trying to look cool with a gun? What? You think you can beat me just by holding a gun?"

He took a step forward, twirling the baseball bat in his hand, making a "crackling" sound: "You lost on the field this afternoon, aren't you upset? Today I'll teach you what real power is, what it means to... lose even more miserably."

Lin Ye slowly straightened up, looking at Chen Ze with cold eyes. He didn't say anything, but slowly picked up the spear leaning against the wall, gripped the shaft with his fingertips, lowered his center of gravity, and assumed a posture that he had just unintentionally practiced.

Although still somewhat awkward, that focused aura made Chen Ze's heart inexplicably tighten.

"What? You want to fight me with a piece of junk?" Chen Ze sneered, waving the baseball bat in his hand. "I advise you to kneel down and admit your mistake, and I'll let you off. Otherwise, don't blame me for being impolite."

Lin Ye remained silent, but slowly raised his spear.

The evening breeze slipped through the cracks in the equipment room, ruffling the boy's clothes and stirring the rifle shaft. In the moonlight, the dust-covered rifle seemed to regain a faint glimmer of sharpness in the boy's hands.

Lin Ye's gaze was fixed on Chen Ze, and the touch of his fingertips returned—the cold metal, the heavy weight. He suddenly felt that the feeling he had when practicing shooting earlier had returned.

This time, it's not about venting, it's not about winning or losing, it's about protecting.

Protect yourself, and protect those around you.

Chen Ze felt a chill run down his spine from Lin Ye's gaze, let out a low growl, and charged towards him, swinging his baseball bat.

Lin Ye's eyes narrowed. He gripped his spear, dodged the baseball bat attack by turning to the side, and at the same time, he swung the spear towards Chen Ze.

"Bang!"

The gun barrel struck Chen Ze's arm solidly, making a dull thud.

Chen Ze cried out in pain, dropping the baseball bat from his hand. He stared at Lin Ye in disbelief, his eyes wide with shock: "You...you dare hit me?!"

Lin Ye did not stop. He moved his feet and swung his spear again, his movements much smoother than before. Although still without any set pattern, it carried a force that should not be underestimated.

Ye Hong watched nervously from the side, her hands clenched tightly, whispering, "Lin Ye, be careful! Don't hurt yourself!"

Her voice wasn't loud, but it was like a force that made Lin Ye's movements even more steady.

He knew that this time, he couldn't afford to lose.

We won't lose.

As night deepened, the commotion in the equipment room attracted passing teachers, but at this moment, in this small open space, only the boy held a long gun, confronting his unwillingness and defiance.

In Lin Ye's mind, besides vigilance, a clearer thought also emerged—

He really has developed an interest in guns.

This interest has nothing to do with showing off or winning or losing; it is simply a heartfelt desire to control and become stronger.

This desire will slowly take root and sprout in the days to come, becoming another important trajectory in his life.