Han Yi moved first—
not because he was brave,
but because standing still felt like waiting for death.
He rushed forward with a tiny scream,
"HA—please don't hurt me—AH!"
Yue Shanshan didn't even move her feet.
She just shifted her weight slightly,
like she was adjusting her stance for comfort.
Han Yi threw a punch.
She tilted her head.
His fist cut through empty air.
Han Yi spun halfway around from the momentum,
arms flailing like a confused windmill.
"I meant to do that!" he blurted.
The crowd laughed.
Yue Shanshan stepped forward.
"That's cute."
Han Yi panicked.
He threw three punches in a row—
fast, messy, desperate.
Yue Shanshan blocked each one with a single finger.
Han Yi froze, staring at her hand.
"…Are you human?"
She tapped his forehead.
Just a tap.
Han Yi stumbled back with a squeak.
"You didn't even hit me! Why does it hurt?!"
Yue Shanshan shrugged.
"Better foundation than you."
Han Yi tried again—
he jumped,
he kicked,
