The high jump area was set up right below the podium.
Jing Qichi watched from afar as Chen Huan'er from the opposite track dashed past the finish line, silently cheering "Yes" in his heart. It would be the most supportive to rush over and celebrate, but at the moment, he was waiting for the final round of the competition that could start any second. He figured she would pass by here on her way back to the class anyway, and he could give her a proper commendation then.
But the more he watched, the more something seemed off.
The girl took a few steps, then stopped to hold her forehead. Her strides grew shorter, her pace slower.
"1043, get ready," the teacher called.
"Here," Jing Qichi raised his hand while still keeping an eye on Huan'er.
The girl came to a complete stop.
Not good.
He couldn't leave, so his first instinct was to turn and look for Song Cong on the podium. Before he could even wave, he saw a figure sprinting down the stairs, vaulting over the railing halfway down. Song Cong ran past him without a glance, heading straight for Chen Huan'er.
"1043?"
"Here!"
In this situation... it's normal to be worried, right?
Run-up, takeoff, landing—the bar didn't budge.
The teacher closed the record book. "Alright, all scores are in."
Kneeling on the mat, Jing Qichi looked up to see Song Cong supporting someone as they walked across the track toward the exit of the field. His floating heart finally settled.
The school nurse was attending to a student with a sprained ankle, so Huan'er, figuring she wasn't seriously hurt, sat quietly on the bed to wait.
"You really scared me. What happened?" Song Cong pressed his palm to her forehead, relieved despite the sweat he felt. "No fever."
He had practically carried Huan'er in, bearing most of her weight as his mind raced through all the first-aid measures for fainting he'd ever heard of. The distance from the field to the infirmary was barely 200 meters, yet in that short span, Song Cong had prepared nearly ten contingency plans.
Qi Qi pushed the door open. Song Cong greeted her briefly before continuing his questioning. "Did you skip breakfast this morning?"
Huan'er shook her head. "Couldn't eat. It's fine, just nerves."
"You should get some glucose." Song Cong turned to leave. "I'll go buy some food."
"Hey—" Qi Qi barely got a syllable out before he was gone.
The nurse finished with the other patient and began examining Huan'er, asking the same questions before smiling and saying, "A bit of low blood sugar. Should I follow your friend's suggestion?"
Huan'er stuck her tongue out at Qi Qi. "See that? If there weren't a doctor here, he'd probably try to give me an IV himself."
"Ungrateful," Qi Qi retorted, sitting beside her. Noticing the other bed was occupied by a boy with a sprained ankle, she leaned in to whisper, "Is it... your time of the month?"
Huan'er immediately understood, letting out a quiet "Ah."
Qi Qi nodded firmly. "I remember yours is right after mine."
No wonder her stomach had been rumbling—she'd been so focused on the race she'd forgotten about her period. "Do you have any with you?" she asked urgently.
"I just finished mine. Want me to go buy some now, just in case?"
"Here, let me pay." Huan'er instinctively reached for her pockets—short sleeves and shorts, not a single coin to be found. She gave an embarrassed smile.
"Please, I don't need your pocket change," Qi Qi tossed out the infuriating line before standing to leave.
There were three supermarkets near the school gate. Qi Qi headed straight for the largest one, where she ran into Song Cong waiting in line to check out.
"Why'd you leave? Where's Huan'er?" he asked.
"Getting an IV," Qi Qi pointed toward the inner shelves. "I came to buy her something."
"Bring it here. I'll pay for it all."Qi Qi's mind went blank for a moment. This item was clearly unsuitable for "checking out together," but how could she explain why? A sixteen-year-old girl couldn't bring herself to openly say the word "sanitary pad," especially not to this particular person.
He was someone she'd known about for a long time but never had the chance to meet properly. Someone she'd longed to get closer to after meeting, with desires that grew endlessly and uncontrollably. Someone she saw every day just by turning her head slightly, yet carried an enormous secret she absolutely couldn't reveal to him.
He shone like the sun, while she was merely dust visible only in his dazzling light.
Song Cong was Qi Qi's secret.
A secret she dared only keep in her heart, carefully making herself more beautiful and outstanding in the vain hope that one day, standing beside him, someone might say "you two look perfect together." A shy yet persistent secret.
She stiffly shook her head, "No need."
"Hey," Song Cong called out, "bring it here. Why be polite with me?"
"Really no need." Qi Qi glanced sideways at the supermarket shelves—the item she needed was at the very back.
Song Cong stepped out of the checkout line with bread and milk, standing directly in front of her. "So what are you buying?"
"They... don't have it here." Qi Qi turned to leave.
A corner of her school uniform was tugged. Turning back, she met his smiling gaze. Song Cong looked rather helpless. "Wherever you go, I'll go there too."
The world became infinitely gentle in that moment.
Early October, 11 a.m. in the supermarket. Nearby, people chatted about the sports meet while the checkout scanner beeped rhythmically. A graceful youth in school uniform, fingers lingering on her clothes, eyes sincere and earnest, spoke with a lazy stubbornness:
"Wherever you go, I'll go there too."
If only this were a confession.
Song Cong let go, teasing, "Qi Qi, you're acting a bit silly now."
She couldn't be seen as a fool. Steeling herself, Qi Qi dashed to the inner shelves and randomly grabbed a pack of sanitary pads, shoving it into his arms. "Okay, let's go."
Pink packaging with a cartoon character sporting huge eyes.
Now Song Cong fully understood. His face warmed as he turned away, trying to appear worldly. "Yeah, let's go."
When the IV bottle was about half empty, Jing Qichi arrived at the infirmary dripping with sweat. Huan'er, comfortably lying down and nearly asleep, was annoyed by the disturbance. Sitting up, she said, "Couldn't you remove your Wind and Fire Wheels and walk properly?"
Uncharacteristically, Jing Qichi didn't retort. Instead he asked, "How are you feeling?"
"Sports committee, does this count as an occupational injury?" Huan'er felt slightly better seeing his decent attitude.
"Badly hurt?"
"Quite."
"Then let's go home. Get treated wherever you want."
Huan'er burst out laughing.
Most events were over, leaving only the most entertaining teacher relay race. Jing Qichi adjusted the IV drip speed faster, gently holding the tube to warm the fluid. "Feeling sick? Finish this quickly and we can still catch Lao Xu running."
"Teacher Xu is competing?"
"Yeah." Jing Qichi took off his school jacket and helped her other arm into the sleeve. "Lao Xu's running first leg."
"I'm not cold," Huan'er pouted.
"Wear it," the boy insisted, adjusting the jacket. "You just cooled down from sweating. The wind will make you sick for sure."As they spoke, the procurement duo returned. Qi Qi tore open the bread wrapper and handed it to Huan'er, then glanced at the nearly empty IV bag and asked, "Where's the school nurse?"
Huan'er answered between bites, "She went to patrol the sports field. Said she'd be back soon."
"Then I better go find her—this is almost done." Qi Qi had just lifted her foot when Jing Qichi yanked her back. With utmost seriousness, he asked, "Who among the three of us do you think can't handle pulling out this needle?"
Kids from the Family Compound had played doctor-patient games since childhood. Pulling out an IV needle was nothing—in an emergency, they could even manage inserting one.
As for the results... well, that was debatable.
Qi Qi gave him a doubtful look. "You sure you can do it?"
"This? I think we all can," Song Cong chuckled, stabbing a straw into a milk carton. Huan'er took it smoothly and drank heartily.
Seizing the moment, he slipped the sanitary pad into her school uniform pocket.
Once fed and hydrated, Huan'er grew impatient. She thrust her IV-pierced hand toward Jing Qichi, who was closest. "Hurry up, pull it out. We're gonna be late."
With practiced ease, Little Jing used his right hand to remove the needle while his left pressed down on the injection site. Huan'er quickly switched her own hand over. "Okay, I'll hold it now."
Song Cong checked the time. "This bag went pretty fast."
Qi Qi stood dumbfounded by this series of swift, skilled maneuvers. She raised both thumbs in admiration. "Future stars, pillars of the nation."
The teachers' relay race was organized by subject groups. Whether usually meticulous and detail-oriented or gentle and composed, all teachers became fiercely competitive on the track, unrecognizable in their determination—a contrast that had the entire student body in stitches. The most amusing part was the gym teachers blatantly holding back; these athletic powerhouses would even jog backward a few steps to let other teachers catch up. This was one of their rare moments to shine at this elite high school.
As for Lao Xu, he was practically dragged into participating. After running just a short stretch, he collapsed onto the ground, too exhausted to get up for quite some time.
When the results were announced, Class Five had collectively secured their first-ever first-place victory.
Chen Huan'er rode this small wave of fame. Her sudden emergence felt like a signal—this place was full of hidden talents.
She was overjoyed, elated enough to fly.
Watching Jing Qichi hold up the certificate, surrounded by cheering classmates, she ultimately didn't step forward to say thank you. This sports meet and the glory it brought would surely be forgotten. But before that, it was him who had retrieved the original Chen Huan'er—along with her long-lost confidence, her carefully restrained drive, and a sense of belonging she hadn't felt in ages. Chen Huan'er was everyone's surprise, but these were the surprises that belonged to Chen Huan'er alone.
She really should have said thank you.
But consider it even—after all, he owed her one too.
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