Always Home

When it came to Chen Huan'er's athletic abilities, Jing Qichi had absolute faith.

After learning she was both a night runner and had excellent jumping skills, he once secretly asked Chen Ma during dinner at their house. The reply was: "Huan'er was frail as a child, so her uncle insisted she exercise to build up her strength. Every time she comes back, the two of them train together—her standards are almost on par with his soldiers." It was worth noting that Chen Ba was an armed police officer who had won national awards in combat sports, with physical prowess unmatched by anyone. How could a tiger father have a weak cub? Jing Qichi couldn’t help but recall the time he was preparing for his professional exams. During the two months before the test, he ran frequently and often bumped into Chen Huan'er. They would run laps around the Family Compound and the hospital together. The pace wasn’t fast, but after a few kilometers, she could quickly regulate her breathing back to normal. As someone with a sports background, Jing Qichi could tell at a glance—this was the kind of reaction only someone who had trained consistently over time would have.

Now, with the school sports meet approaching, who else but her could go?

Yet the moment he uttered the words "sports meet," he was immediately rejected. Chen Huan'er argued firmly, "I do it for fun, not competition."

"You’d definitely do well," Jing Qichi reasoned first. "You don’t even pant after five kilometers, and your resting heart rate is low. You’re built for long-distance running."

Huan'er remained unmoved.

He switched to presenting facts. "You don’t realize it, but the better students are at academics, the worse they are at sports. Bookworms who sit all day never get a chance to exercise. If our school team went up against the Football Academy, we’d be crushed. You’d have no problem at all."

Chen Huan'er ignored him. No matter how much he argued, her answer remained the same: not participating. Jing Qichi was the type to dig in his heels once he set his mind to something. He brainwashed her during school, persuaded her after class, and tried every tactic from coercion to bribery. But Chen Huan'er had no desires he could exploit—she seemed to have some screw loose, doing nothing but studying day in and day out. As the deadline loomed, he passed a note to her during evening self-study: "Just do it. I’ll owe you one. There’s a long road ahead—you’ll find a use for me someday."

This was his last resort. Heaven knew what Chen Huan'er would make him repay.

After passing the note, he kept poking her back for an answer. Annoyed, Huan'er turned to glare at him before ducking out of the classroom to hide in the restroom.

Song Cong watched her leave and advised, "Don’t force her. Huan'er doesn’t want to run."

"You think I want to?" Jing Qichi sighed. "But there’s literally no one else in our class besides her."

"Four thousand meters—ten full laps around the track," Song Cong’s worry was written all over his face. "She might seem fine normally, but there’s no guarantee she can actually handle it."

Jing Qichi, frustrated and unwilling to explain, retorted, "That’s because you don’t know how well she can run."

Qi Qi, overhearing, turned around. "If it really comes down to it, I’ll go."

"One four-thousand and one fifteen-hundred—you can’t do both," the boy waved his hand. "Besides, there’s no way I’d let you go anyway."

"If I can’t finish, I’ll just walk. Even if I drop out halfway, it won’t cost us points," Qi Qi said, speaking up for her friend. "Huan'er just doesn’t want distractions. Look how hard she’s working now—she’s completely focused on prepping for the next monthly exam. If anyone else doesn’t get it, you should. You know how much the tuition fee thing upset her."

"Still…" Jing Qichi set down his pen and stood up. "I’ll go talk to her again."

Just as he stepped out of the classroom, the two of them ran into each other. The boy blocked her path with his foot. "About the sports meet—"

"Are you done yet?" Huan'er snapped. "You’re like a damn leech."

"Just think about it—just a little."

"Move."

"Studying won’t suffer from a few kilometers. Besides, you don’t even need to train for it.""Finished talking?"

"I know I'm annoying, but..." Jing Qichi retracted his foot, paused briefly, then placed a hand on her shoulder. "Just help me out this once, okay?"

In the empty hallway, the boy's eyes brimmed with sincerity. School uniform, sneakers, and those clear, bright eyes—Huan'er stared at him and suddenly found herself unable to refuse.

What was Jing Qichi after?

Nothing but the collective good, nothing but a strong performance for everyone, nothing but bringing glory to Class Five.

A motive as pure as oxygen.

Huan'er swatted his hand away. "Fine, I'll sign up. Happy now?"

"Really?"

The girl frowned without answering.

"Good girl." Seeing this, Jing Qichi excitedly ruffled her hair with both hands. "Just ask your big brother for anything you need in the future."

Chen Huan'er smoothed her disheveled hair with a grimace, wanting to vent her frustration but unable to summon any harsh words. She ended up cursing herself instead, "I must have a hole in my brain."

Jing Qichi found her puffed-up anger both amusing and intimidating, forcing him to turn away. The hallway window reflected a young face with increasingly sharp features, its grin practically stretching to the ears.

Jing Qichi was right.

At the school sports meet, Chen Huan'er—an unknown in the freshman girls' 4000-meter race—took first place. This unexpected triumph electrified all of Class Five. Half the class didn't even see her cross the finish line—too many laps, unfamiliar faces—they were still scanning the track when Huan'er had already returned to the class seating area.

The section erupted instantly. Drums pounded, noisemakers blared, and boys' elaborate whistling drew a reprimand over the PA system. But what did that matter? Never underestimate the fervor of sixteen-year-olds.

I am my own master, heedless of winds from any direction.

Chen Huan'er received a hero's welcome. Cheers and applause surrounded her as classmates cleared a path, handing her water and snacks from all sides. Everyone smiled at her, even drawing attention from neighboring classes—all eyes on this triumphant young woman.

She'd forgotten how it felt to be the center of attention.

Awkward, unnerving. Rediscovery brings joy, but also strangeness.

"You were amazing, Chen Huan'er!" Qi Qi gushed, her face flushed red as her trembling hands struggled with a water bottle. "Are you okay? Too hot? Rest quick."

Huan'er snatched the bottle from her fumbling friend, twisted it open effortlessly, and gulped down several mouthfuls before catching her breath—then immediately started boasting. "I wasn't even trying that hard."

"Now you're just showing off," Qi Qi laughed.

Class monitor Liao Xinyan waved from several rows away. "Listen! Our class's broadcast piece!"

The PA system recited a wildly offbeat rhyme: Huan'er Huan'er runs so fast, four-k first without a care; Huan'er Huan'er you're the best, Class Five's pride beyond compare.

That voice, that cadence...

Huan'er pointed dumbfounded toward the announcer's booth. Qi Qi instantly understood. "Song Cong. Director Fu pulled him in last minute this morning."

Casually she added, "Actually Song Cong's a good runner too. Just our class boys are too strong."

"Really?" Qi Qi pursed her lips. "He's good at everything, isn't he?"

"But he can't outrun Jing Qichi." Chen Huan'er missed her friend's tone, busy scanning the field for their sports committee rep about to compete.

Song Cong, Song Cong. Qi Qi silently repeated the two all-too-familiar syllables in her heart.The next morning, Chen Huan'er felt unwell all over. Her stomach growled, her limbs ached, and her head was heavy and muddled. She prided herself on being in good shape—even running four kilometers at full speed wouldn’t leave her this weak. After some thought, she chalked it up to nerves. After all, it was her first time participating in a sports meet.

When the 100-meter dash ended, Liao Xinyan called out, "Huan'er, time to get ready."

"Go for it!" "Chen Huan'er, you're the best!" "Huan'er, crush them!"

Amid the waves of encouragement, only Qi Qi held her friend's hand and asked, "Are you okay?"

From the moment they sat in the stands that morning, Qi Qi had sensed something off. The day before, Huan'er had been stretching and doing high-knees before the race, warming up multiple rounds even before her event started. But today, she was unusually listless—not speaking, not drinking water, her head drooping as if lost in thought.

"Don’t worry," Huan'er squeezed her hand in return, her palm damp with cold sweat.

"If you can’t do it, just quit. Don’t push yourself too hard," Qi Qi said, pressing a hand to Huan'er’s forehead and then her own. "At least you don’t have a fever."

"I didn’t eat much this morning," Huan'er replied, pulling off her school jacket to reveal the number pinned to her chest. She grinned at her friend. "Make sure you cheer for the right person."

Before the 1500-meter race began, Jing Qichi made a special trip to the athletes' preparation area. Huan'er was warming up when he walked straight up behind her, kneading her shoulders to help her relax while muttering, "The one in red is a trained athlete. No one expected you to win the 4000-meter yesterday, so she might speed up right from the start to force you to keep pace."

Huan'er glanced over, her heartbeat quickening involuntarily.

Jing Qichi moved in front of her. "If she tires you out, the other strong runner from her class could overtake you later. Don’t follow her. Stick to your own rhythm. It doesn’t matter how you finish, got it?"

The sports committee member was here to strategize.

Huan'er nodded.

"Why are you sweating so much?" Jing Qichi tilted his head to look at the sky, squinting against the harsh sunlight before shifting slightly to shield Huan'er in his shadow. He shook her arms lightly. "Relax, don’t stress. The boys’ events today are all our strong suits—we won’t miss your one or two points."

"One or two points?" Huan'er glared. She had contributed eight points just the day before.

"Such a miser," Jing Qichi tapped her forehead, casually wiping the sweat from her brow. "I’m off to high jump. Stay relaxed, got it?"

She watched him jog away, merging into the high jump lineup before turning back and raising a fist in encouragement across the crowd.

The starting gun fired, and nearly fifty runners surged forward from the line, the stands erupting in a tidal wave of cheers. After one lap, gaps began to form—Huan'er held third place. As she ran, her strength returned, and she sped up briefly to take the lead. But soon, the girl in red overtook her, taunting her with alternating bursts of speed, always staying just a few steps ahead.

When she passed the fifth-grade stands, the chant of "Chen Huan'er, go for it!" rang out to the skies.

For a moment, the cheers ignited her fighting spirit, making her want to challenge the trained athlete head-on. But then she remembered Jing Qichi’s words—she was being baited.

Clearly, he was right again.

This wasn’t just a guess. Huan'er knew his conclusions came from observation and analysis. Unlike Song Cong, Jing Qichi had a different kind of intelligence—one that shone in these overlooked, unremarkable details.

When the trained athlete glanced back, Huan'er met her gaze with a bold smirk, as if to say, Do what you want. I’ve got this.

The other girl accelerated, widening the gap instantly.Chen Huan'er maintained her second-place position until the finish line, a result good enough to meet expectations.

Dragging her feet toward the class bleachers, waves of dizziness washed over her. She staggered forward in stops and starts, the sounds around her fading in and out. Just as her legs were about to give way, a pair of arms steadied her in time.