32. Wealth, beauty, and endless talent.

Qiao Yingna had heard about the commotion over at the soccer field that day, but she firmly resisted the urge to go and watch. Instead, she spent her evening in the library’s study room, turning off her phone’s ringer. Only when she left did she discover a slew of missed calls—not from the one whose messages would make her heart race, but rather a number she didn’t recognize. Upon calling back, she realized it was an acquaintance, an older student from her department. After hearing his explanation, Qiao Yingna felt herself in an awkward bind. She was proud, and truly had no desire to reach out to that person again at this moment.

Now she found herself hesitating even to make a simple phone call, as if saying a single word to Bai Haonan would unravel a whole new drama. The focus and serenity she had built up over her afternoon and evening retreat seemed to collapse all at once. It took several rounds of psychological self-coaching and a deep breath before she finally dialed his number.

But as soon as he picked up, something felt off. Bai Haonan, distracted, listened to her explain the situation and only replied, “I’m fine. Uh… just have them call me.” There was something in his tone, a hint of preoccupation.

A woman’s intuition is sharpest at times like these. From just the subtlest inflection in Bai Haonan’s voice, she caught on. “What are you… doing?” she asked.

Bai Haonan actually replied, “Just… doing it,” emphasizing one word with a lingering suggestiveness. In the background, there came the faint sound of slapping skin and playful giggles. Furious, Qiao Yingna hung up without another word, her deep breath turning into ragged gasping. For the first time, she understood Chen Sufen’s state of mind—felt the urge to grab a notebook and jot it all down.

Bai Haonan never refused any advances. Just that afternoon, after an encounter with Xiao Wen before training, he hadn’t even mentioned dinner together—a textbook example of a man who pulls up his pants and walks away. That evening, another girl called to ask if he’d like to see a movie, and he answered while still in the underground parking lot of the cinema. He then accompanied her to the movie, shared a late-night meal, saw her back to her dorm, and said nothing more.

There was no swaggering pride after conquest, nor any eager attentiveness that would suggest a budding romance. The sex was just a trivial interlude in the whole date—a little extra stimulation, nothing more. If it didn’t happen, it wouldn’t have mattered. If it did, well, so be it.

The key, however, was that he was good at it. His approach never made a girl feel awkward or uneasy; his departure was always calm and gentle, the epitome of an experienced hand. He wouldn’t even get out of the car to open the dormitory door for her—a simple, plain “good night” was all she got. It was enough to make a girl wonder, “What am I doing? I just gave myself away for nothing…” But then, with a little thought, she’d realize there had been nothing unpleasant about the whole experience. She’d enjoyed herself, watched a movie, had a meal—nothing to regret, and without any of the tangled mess of relationships. So ordinary, in fact, that she knew this man would never bother to boast about it afterward.

Wasn’t this, in its own way, rather nice?

It wasn’t that the nursing profession was particularly promiscuous, only that some lines of work—medicine and the arts, for instance—tended to be more open-minded about these matters.

Besides, it was now almost universal for college students to have such experiences—except perhaps in a few rare, female-starved programs.

But for Bai Haonan, women were anything but rare.

After he’d seen the girl back to her dorm, the other call came through. By then, Bai Haonan had composed himself. Being a gigolo wasn’t nearly as satisfying as coaching—that was his true calling. Though he was still a long way from becoming a professional coach at any level, he had time on his hands, so why not? And the income was nothing to scoff at.

Perhaps those physician employees who decided on early-morning practices were projecting, thinking it would be tough to get up so early. Little did they know that early rising and aerobic exercise were basic requirements for professional athletes—morning cardio was best for heart and lung function. So, bright and early the next morning, before he’d even received his advance payment, Bai Haonan was already leading another staff team in training. He spent the entire day at the fitness center, where he met a whole new crowd of attractive women!

This place was a revelation for Bai Haonan. After two decades in the sports world, he’d rarely spent time in a commercial fitness center—especially not one filled with beautiful women. Compared to the handful of pretty faces in sports colleges, the nurses here were in a different league. Although there were plenty of male doctors and staff, their shifts didn’t align with the nurses’ rotating schedules. At this hour, the place was nearly a women’s club.

The fitness center’s trainers and staff all held medical or rehabilitation titles; there were none of the commercial personal trainers found in regular gyms. The few yoga, spin, and aerobics classes were all in-house affairs. Bai Haonan, with his athletic physique on full display—his clothes soaked with sweat, every muscle defined—quickly became the subject of gossip among the nurses, his reputation spreading even faster than news from the soccer field. Especially since, on his very first day, he’d led seven nurses to the city’s most exclusive club for a night of “healthy fun”—a tale that quickly became legend.

One could only guess if glowing reports of his prowess had also begun circulating in private. By the second or third day, he hardly needed to initiate conversation. Walking a circuit of the gym, he was constantly approached by women asking, in sweet voices, for help with the equipment. He would demonstrate, offer professional advice, and correct their form—a natural opportunity for physical contact. A seasoned pro like Bai Haonan could tell at a glance which women were open to invitations for a tryst, whether in a hotel room or in the car. A subtle movement of his hand, a gentle test—it was his decision alone.

Compared to spending thousands on champagne in a club, the gym’s equipment and the biceps flexed over dumbbells were far more effective tools for flirting.

What is the essence of a casual hookup, if not the release of primal physical desire? That’s exactly what’s on display in a gym—especially with the parade of athletic, revealing outfits the women wore. Bai Haonan even felt that, given a few more days here, he’d be able to judge at a glance, just by the style of their sportswear, how approachable each woman was. His prodigious memory, it seemed, would now be put to use for such frivolous purposes. Was it the sports bra or the loose T-shirt that was more inviting? He could practically create a comparative sample set.

Why bother with nightclubs? The value for effort here was unmatched!

So, Bai Haonan’s life now revolved entirely around the fitness center: morning and evening teams, a swim and some friendly flirting during the day, helping out with equipment—life had never been more comfortable. It was a far cry from his days holed up with university students in grimy internet cafés.

And with two generous private coaching salaries, he was actually earning more than he ever did as a professional athlete!

Why bother being a kept man? Now, everywhere he went, people called him “Coach Liu” or “Champion Hao”—life was stylish and satisfying.

At this moment, Bai Haonan felt as if he’d once again reached the pinnacle of his life. Things were always so simple for him!

At least he no longer had Old Chen nagging in his ear day and night. Life was even better than during his days as a pro athlete—so much so that he almost forgot he was living in the gray zone, almost forgot he was still a fugitive. Hiding in the fitness center of a large hospital, the chances of being found by the gambling syndicate were slim. Besides, in Rongdu, the southwest’s major city—once the stronghold of the region’s only top-tier professional team—there hadn’t been a top team in a decade, making it a blank spot on the bookies’ radar.

This was, of course, what Chen Sufen had told him.

She finally came to find him. The sports college’s holiday started a little earlier, and under the pretense of a checkup at the hospital, she tracked him down. The crowds in the outpatient and inpatient departments would foil any attempt at surveillance or investigation.

There was something almost thrilling about this secrecy—a touch of espionage in the air.