The events that unfolded over the next period remained only as fragmented memories for Lin Wanxing.
They resembled frames extracted from a film—some exceptionally bright, others entirely dark.
A jacket fell over her.
Warm, strong arms lifted her from the rubber track.
Lin Wanxing struggled to open her eyes, only to find darkness. She could feel herself leaning entirely against the other person before closing her eyes again.
Though temporarily unable to see, her senses remained.
She could feel herself being supported, and due to the posture, the other person’s warm breath, carrying a hint of minty cigarette smoke, brushed against her neck.
A jacket draped over her shoulders, Lin Wanxing was helped to walk slowly along the track.
Of course, “helped” might be too generous—it was more like being dragged.
Lin Wanxing repeatedly tried to sit down out of stubbornness, but a firm, unyielding arm kept her moving.
She gripped the other person’s arm, her palm registering its solidness.
No words were spoken, and no other images emerged.
Only the swishing sound of footsteps against the rubber track echoed in the seemingly endless space, unusually clear.
Time had stretched infinitely long, and it no longer mattered if it grew longer still.
Her legs felt like soft noodles, and the timeline seemed just as pliable.
In any case, when such a strange metaphor popped into her mind, Lin Wanxing knew she must be feeling slightly better.
She licked her chapped lips, tilted her head with effort, and looked at the person beside her, meeting a pair of deep, dark eyes.
Long eyelashes, a baseball cap still pulled low—it was indeed Wang Fa.
Adhering to his professional coach’s attitude, Wang Fa had stubbornly dragged her around the track twice before allowing her to sit.
Lin Wanxing plopped down onto the grass in an ungainly posture, immediately sprawling flat on her back to deny Wang Fa any chance of dragging her further.
Closing her eyes, she felt the prickly grass beneath her. Sweat still covered her body when another jacket was thrown over her face.
This jacket was heavy, carrying a faint scent of mint and tobacco—clearly not hers.
Hit in the face by the jacket, Lin Wanxing let out an involuntary grunt. She struggled to pull it down a bit, obediently covering herself like a blanket.
Then, the person beside her left.
Lin Wanxing closed her eyes, ignoring the damp chill of the night grass, ready to sleep for a while—she was truly exhausted.
But just as she drifted into semi-consciousness, she was forcibly shaken awake.
She raised a hand to wave him off stubbornly, but a drink was shoved into her grasp.
The cap was off. Wang Fa held her hand, forcing her to take a couple of confused sips.
The drink was slightly sweet and sour—probably some brand of sports beverage—and she took a few more sips on her own.
“How long did I run for?” Lin Wanxing asked slowly, her voice as dry as sawed wood.
She coughed lightly twice, a surge of blood rising in her throat, then coughed heavily.
This time, however, perhaps because she seemed revived, she received no further gentle care from the handsome guy.
Wang Fa didn’t pat her back or anything. He just took the sports drink, screwed the cap back on, and said, “If we’re talking about running time and not counting the time you spent crawling on the ground at the end, it should be 41 minutes.”
Crawling???
Lin Wanxing felt like coughing again.
Suddenly feeling mischievous, she reached out and yanked hard, pulling Wang Fa down with her to sprawl on the grass and play dead.
Thirty-one minutes—not even half a football match…
Her hand retained a trace of warmth from the boy’s palm during the tug, her palm damp, probably from condensation on the cold sports drink bottle.
Beneath her was the soft yet prickly grass. The moon was bright, stars sparse, and before her stretched a vast, boundless starry sky.
Staring at it felt like being completely drawn in.
And humans? They’re just tiny creatures living in the universe.
Time is long, space eternal.
Compared to the starry sky above, most things truly seem meaningless.
Lin Wanxing thought for a long time.
Lost in prolonged, aimless contemplation.
She thought about many things.
Finally, Lin Wanxing heard her own dry voice speak again: “Do me a favor, and I’ll waive a month’s rent.”
“Okay.” Wang Fa’s clear, crisp voice fell by her ear.
——
Lin Wanxing wasn’t sure what had made Wang Fa change his mind and agree to her request.
Perhaps she had looked too much like a dead dog while running, or maybe Wang Fa still held a sliver of expectation for her—he also wanted to give it another try.
No. 17 Wutong Road, Yuan Yuan Tutoring Center.
Lin Wanxing dragged her exhausted body up the stairs.
She pushed open the classroom door, and sure enough, the boys were all seated at their desks.
Each of them had a book open on their desk with some semblance of seriousness—titles like Three Years of College Entrance Exams, Five Years of Mock Tests or Chinese textbooks. The most exaggerated was Qin Ao, who had Anna Karenina (English edition) on her desk.
Upon her entry, the students stiffened.
A rustling sound erupted abruptly. Lin Wanxing watched as the students hurriedly put away their distractions. Lin Lu secretly slipped his phone into his desk.
“Triple Kill!”
The electronic sound of a game character being eliminated still leaked through the desk.
Qin Ao kicked Lin Lu’s stool. Lin Lu fumbled, trying to turn off his phone while greeting her: “Teacher, you’re here?”
“What were you doing? Swimming?” Qin Ao asked, looking at her drenched sweat.
Lin Wanxing pointed at Lin Lu and said, “Don’t go AFK; be a quality player.”
Then she looked at the others. “Come on, follow me.”
There was a shortcut from No. 17 Wutong Road to the old stadium.
Skirting the old residential compound’s courtyard and cutting through a small, pitch-dark bamboo grove led to the stadium’s back entrance—the same route Wang Fa had just taken her.
The students stood at the stadium entrance, the half-lowered rolling shutter at the back gate making them realize they were back.
Led by Qin Ao, the “babies” started causing a fuss: “Teacher, what are you doing?”
“Class.” Lin Wanxing walked into the stadium without a care for the students’ complaints behind her.
“Didn’t you say we could choose freely?”
“Yeah, we want to attend class—not football class.”
“We want to study! The kind of tutoring for high school!”
“ABCDEFG Teacher! The kind you asked us about yesterday at noon!”
A group of boys clamored behind her, putting on a show of preferring death over playing football again.
Lin Wanxing was too tired to speak and ignored their protests. Her only task was to bring the students to the spot.
By the pitch stood Wang Fa.
In her memory, this seemed to be the first time Wang Fa had descended from the stands to stand on the green field.
Under the night sky, the young man’s tall, straight figure was outlined, exuding an incredibly convincing presence.
The moment they saw Wang Fa, the students’ loud complaints turned into quiet murmurs.
Perhaps because they weren’t very familiar with him, or maybe Wang Fa had switched into a mode that commanded respect, no one dared to protest around him.
The students instinctively lined up while whispering their complaints to her.
“Teacher, didn’t you tell us to study? Why are you making us play football now?”
“Didn’t you say we could do whatever we wanted?”
Just quiet, reluctant grumbling.
Lin Wanxing sat down heavily on the ground and asked, “Let me confirm—you all want to study with me, right?”
The students fell silent under her gaze. After a moment, Fu Xinshu nodded firmly: “We’ve discussed it. We can’t beat Green View International. We want to study and take the college entrance exams.”
The implication was that they didn’t want to play football anymore.
“I understand.” Lin Wanxing nodded. “Then, the first lesson you’ll have with me is—football.”
In short, it sounded like some kind of narrative trick. The students weren’t buying it, adopting a stance of “I won’t play, what can you do about it?”
But Lin Wanxing was equally firm, stating only: “Our principle remains unchanged. Those who want to learn can stand here. Those who don’t can leave.”
It was hard to pinpoint the exact reason.
Perhaps it was Wang Fa’s commanding presence, or her own serious expression, or maybe the students didn’t want to upset her—of course, there were likely many deeper reasons.
In the end, under the starry sky, on the green field, not a single person left.
OpenNovel