Dazzling

Before long, the Anzhong students surged toward the intersection, gradually merging with the Anzhi crowd. Many teachers stood at the crossroads, holding megaphones and repeatedly urging everyone to stay safe, maintain distance, and avoid physical altercations.

Qing Ye found the whole idea of the two schools jointly organizing a marathon rather baffling. Weren’t they just asking for trouble by forcing two incompatible groups to collaborate on a sports event?

Just then, Fang Lei, running beside her, explained, "Anzhi has limited space, so they can’t host their own sports meet. That’s why they join this winter marathon every year."

Already exhausted from running and mid-conversation with Fang Lei, Qing Ye felt the cold wind relentlessly scraping her throat, leaving it unbearably dry. She told Fang Lei, "You go ahead. I need to slow down."

She then reduced her pace. While Qing Ye could handle writing exams or competing in knowledge-based contests like debates, long-distance running simply wasn’t her forte. Surprisingly, despite her poor stamina, she had still managed to outpace the majority of her classmates—a small miracle in itself.

Now, surrounded largely by Anzhi students, her uniform stood out starkly amid their assorted casual wear.

She wrestled with a dilemma: should she push forward to catch up with Fang Lei, or simply slow to a walk and wait for her classmates from behind? Being sandwiched among a crowd of Anzhi students made her intensely uncomfortable, as if she were betraying her own school.

Before she could decide, a guy jogging up from her left bumped into her. Startled, Qing Ye swayed to the right, only to be jostled by another male student from that side. In no time, she found herself encircled by a group of Anzhi boys, who teased her with smirks, asking, "Haven’t seen you around? Which class are you in? Wanna get to know each other?"

Qing Ye halted, her expression instantly turning icy. The boys continued laughing, "Why so serious? The competition’s secondary to friendship! We just want to be friends."

No sooner had they spoken than someone grabbed the back collar of her uniform. Qing Ye was about to elbow the person behind her when she turned and met Xing Wu’s cold, narrowed eyes fixed on the boy who’d spoken. One hand tucked in his uniform pants pocket, the other yanked Qing Ye to his side. Frowning slightly, he uttered without a trace of warmth, "How about getting to know me first?"

The boys’ faces immediately fell. One muttered under his breath, "Could she be Qing Ye?" Another forced a dry laugh and said, "Brother Wu, didn’t expect to see you at an event like this. Rare sight."

Xing Wu ignored them outright, and they, not wanting to provoke further, quickly scattered.

Qing Ye looked at him in surprise. "How do they know my name?"

Xing Wu gave her a teasing glance. "Would I step in for just any girl?"

She nudged him lightly with her elbow. "So I’m benefiting from your reputation, am I?"

He replied with a half-smile, "You’re welcome."

Then, raising a brow slightly, he asked, "Weren’t you running with Fang Lei and the others? Why are you alone?"

Qing Ye pouted with pitifully wide eyes, her voice soft. "I can’t run anymore."

The corners of Xing Wu’s eyes crinkled, his gaze full of affection. "What to do then? Want me to carry you?""Can you carry me and win first place?"

"As long as you want it, as long as I can."

Qing Ye deliberately put on a troubled expression: "Then would first place be yours or mine?"

Xing Wu said with complete seriousness: "Of course it belongs to whoever's feet touch the ground."

"Then why should I let you carry me? I wouldn't get first place anyway."

"Since you can't get first place either way, and I'm not interested in first place, why should we run?"

"..." The logic seemed sound.

Then Qing Ye watched helplessly as those girls from An Vocational School - weren't they here to run a marathon? Shouldn't they have some sense of occasion? - ended up all rushing to the roadside to buy milk tea in a frenzy. Where was their dignity?

Just then, she heard Xing Wu ask beside her: "Want some?"

"Sure." So much for dignity.

The two walked toward the roadside. In front of the milk tea shop that had been crowded with girls, when Xing Wu approached, the group immediately felt a dark shadow fall behind them. Standing at 182cm with cold, unsmiling eyes and that diagonal slash at his temple radiating an untamable roguishness, his bad-boy appearance held a fatal attraction for these seventeen- and eighteen-year-old girls.

The girls soon began whispering among themselves, occasionally uttering "Xing Wu" in hushed tones. Qing Ye stood waiting for him at the roadside, outside the crowd.

Suddenly, a boisterous group of An Vocational girls deliberately pushed a heavily made-up girl toward Xing Wu. With his hands in his pockets while looking up at the drink menu, the girl crashed into him, her whole body falling against his arm. If he had shifted slightly, she would have fallen flat on her face. Xing Wu frowned, his first reaction being to turn and look at Qing Ye.

Qing Ye stood coldly watching the scene from the roadside, expressionless. When Xing Wu withdrew his gaze, his eyes immediately regained their impatient look. The girls stopped laughing, quickly pulling the made-up girl back and voluntarily making way: "You go first."

Xing Wu bought two cups of milk tea. Seeing him order two, the girls turned around and noticed a girl in An High School uniform waiting nearby. Tall and slender, even the soulless uniform couldn't hide her striking beauty.

The group whispered among themselves, trying to find out who she was, then watched as Xing Wu walked over and handed her the milk tea. Qing Ye didn't take it immediately, instead glancing at his left arm where the made-up girl had bumped into him before giving him a faint look.

Xing Wu lowered his eyes and smiled. His girlfriend was angry.

Without changing expression, he transferred both cups to one hand, directly took off his school jacket and threw it into a nearby trash can without blinking, inserted the straw into the milk tea, and offered it to her again. Qing Ye glanced sideways at the mercilessly discarded jacket, accepted the milk tea, and the two walked away as if nothing had happened.

The group of An Vocational girls behind them was utterly stunned. What kind of move was that? Someone touches him and he just throws away his jacket? Throws it away? Holy shit!

Qing Ye sipped the warm milk tea, her eyes curving into crescents: "You're not keeping your school jacket?"

Xing Wu said indifferently: "Don't want it."

"What if it were summer and you were shirtless?"

"Then I'd chop off the arm."Qing Ye laughed and reached out to pinch him, but Xing Wu cleared his throat. Her half-extended hand retracted as if nothing had happened. After all, students from both schools were around—if they started flirting in the middle of the road, what would others think? That their sibling bond was exceptionally strong?

Just then, Huang Zhiming from their class suddenly came running back from ahead. Spotting Xing Wu at a glance, he shouted, "Brother Wu, it's bad! Xiao Ling Tong got grabbed by the Anzhi guys and dragged into an alley."

Xing Wu frowned, baffled. "Why drag him for no reason?"

"He was running too fast."

"..."

Qing Ye finally understood why the Anzhong team couldn't win. Those nobody dared to offend—like Xing Wu, Huang Mao, and their crew—were strolling leisurely at the back of the group as if browsing a market. Meanwhile, anyone trying hard to win a ranking became instant cannon fodder, easily taken down by the Anzhi students. With this pace, winning was practically impossible.

Unfortunately, today's victim was Zhou Chen from Class Two, nicknamed Xiao Ling Tong. During PE class, Qing Ye had seen his footwork on the basketball court. Though short, his stubby legs moved like rockets—surprisingly agile. Who'd have thought he'd be captured today precisely because of those speedy legs?

Xing Wu said indifferently, "Go tell a teacher. Why call me?"

Both Qing Ye and Huang Zhiming stared at Xing Wu, their minds echoing with "Holy shit, so heartless." Even Qing Ye felt anxious hearing Xiao Ling Tong was surrounded—the guy was talkative but harmless, always acting familiar while sitting in front of her in class, and over time, they'd genuinely become acquainted.

Huang Zhiming pointed at the horizontal stripe near Xing Wu's temple. "Bro, who else should we call? You're our school's 'Captain'!"

"..." Only now did Qing Ye understand Xing Wu's hairstyle. While others wore captain badges on their sleeves, he'd shaved his directly onto his head—such audacity.

Xing Wu glanced at Qing Ye, who wore an expression screaming "Damn, he's our classmate and you're standing by doing nothing? You monster!"

He finally asked which alley the person was taken to. Huang Zhiming pointed the way, and Xing Wu—being familiar with Zhazha Pavilion—immediately recognized the location. Tossing his milk tea into a trash can, he told Qing Ye, "I'll go check it out. You notify Pang Hu and the others."

Qing Ye nodded. Xing Wu left with Huang Zhiming first, while she immediately turned back to find Pang Hu and Huang Mao.

Bystanders stared at her curiously. Some even kindly reminded her, "Qing Ye, you're running the wrong way," when they saw someone "running a marathon" in reverse.

"???" Qing Ye ignored them entirely. Did she look like someone who'd run the wrong way without a clue?

After walking for what felt like ages without finding Pang Hu, she broke into a jog. She nearly reached the starting point again before spotting a group squatting by the roadside smoking. She was exasperated—was this a marathon or stationary marching?

Pang Hu saw Qing Ye return, stubbed out his cigarette, and stood up. "You—why are you back? Where's Brother Wu? Didn't he go find you?"

Bending over to catch her breath, she panted, "Zhou Chen got surrounded by Anzhi guys. Xing Wu and Huang Zhiming went ahead. They said hurry up."After all, Pang Hu was the class monitor. The moment he heard that his buddy of three years had been cornered by students from the vocational school, he immediately led a large group of people charging forward with fierce determination. Qing Ye followed behind, panting heavily. As they turned the corner, they ran right into Teacher Zhu Fen wearing his red armband. Pang Hu’s body stiffened with shock, but he raised his megaphone and shouted, "Under the vast sky, Class Two reigns supreme! With deep reserves and steady effort, victory is at hand! Charge!!!"

Qing Ye, lagging at the very back, silently wiped away a cold sweat. If Old Zhu knew they were heading for a fight, he wondered whether he could still shout such a slogan.