Bei Yao struggled to support him, saying softly in his ear: “I’ll help you over. Don’t worry, everyone who finishes running loses strength.”

After a long-distance run, you couldn’t sit down immediately—it was best to walk a bit more. She couldn’t truly comprehend how much pain Pei Chuan was in, so she asked: “Do you want to sit for a moment?”

Pei Chuan gritted his teeth and stood up: “Walk.”

They walked together to the finish line. Colorful flags stood at the finish, and when blown by the mountain wind, gave a feeling of welcoming glory.

Everyone could see Pei Chuan’s condition was wrong. His face was white as paper, and beneath his black athletic pants, the way his long legs walked was abnormal. Countless probing, curious gazes looked over.

In terms of fame, Bei Yao was clearly more well-known. From the morning when Bei Yao started volunteering here, many people had recognized her as the girl who danced with the cheerleading squad last time—Sixth Middle’s famous school flower. However, although Pei Chuan was famous in Third Middle’s second year, he hadn’t previously reached the level of being known across several schools.

Yet Bei Yao had crossed the protective line inappropriately to support him. More than support, it looked more like an embrace. Most students were sixteen or seventeen years old—they were more excited about this kind of gossip than the marathon rankings.

Someone said quietly: “Who’s that boy? Bei Yao went to support him?”

“Don’t know him, never seen him before. But looking that weak… tsk, Bei Yao’s taste really isn’t that great.”

Fine, scattered discussions reached his ears. When the wind blew Pei Chuan’s sweat-soaked body, he felt somewhat cold. So his utmost effort was just “nothing special” in others’ eyes.

Pei Chuan found it somewhat laughable.

See, what exactly was he doing? Besides bringing her trouble, what he wanted to prove was extremely cheap.

His arms supported the table as he barely stood. Sweat dripped in large drops from his forehead. His shirt was long soaked through. Bei Yao planned to mix warm water and bring it to feed him.

Shi Tian was somewhat embarrassed, quietly pulling Bei Yao aside: “Why did you go support him? Does his result still count now?”

With Pei Chuan’s time, he’d actually made it into the top fifty prize list. Throughout the entire course, he hadn’t drunk a single sip of water, hadn’t delayed a single moment.

Bei Yao said: “He finished the whole course. Why wouldn’t it count?” Her gentle, clear eyes carried a few traces of stubbornness for the first time, leaving Shi Tian momentarily speechless. Bei Yao hurriedly poured water, added glucose, and walked over.

Pei Chuan glanced at her. He’d gotten her dirty. A man’s sweat dripping onto a woman’s body shouldn’t be because of his wretchedness.

He used his palm to block her paper cup, pressing his pale lips together.

He didn’t accept her water.

Bei Yao didn’t understand, but he did.

If as a volunteer, going to help someone whose strength failed was because of a kind heart, but feeding water after the race would make people think improper thoughts.

Because of the pain in his residual limbs, his fingers trembled slightly as he went to lift the water pitcher himself.

Seeing this, Wu Mo quickly stepped forward to help him pour water.

Enduring severe pain, Pei Chuan didn’t look up to see who was helping him pour water—as long as it wasn’t her, it was fine. In the year without him, Bei Yao had lived easily and happily. He still remembered the consequences of Shang Mengxian’s deliberate approach.

Wu Mo was delighted inside. Though she didn’t understand why Pei Chuan looked so uncomfortable, she was also scared by Bei Yao’s boldness. However, Pei Chuan refusing Bei Yao’s water in front of so many people delighted her immensely.

She attentively poured the water and handed it over, using a volunteer’s tone: “You worked hard. Have some water.”

Pei Chuan truly didn’t have the strength to pour water. He reached out to take it, but a small hand that appeared from the side took the cup away.

That hand was fair and beautiful—it had just been placed on his waist.

Pei Chuan looked up.

Bei Yao said nothing. She pressed her lips together, took Wu Mo’s water away, and offered her own cup.

For a moment, discussion gradually rose. Wu Mo’s expression looked unpleasant, but she still knew Pei Chuan was here. She said teasingly: “Bei Yao, we’re all volunteers. What are you doing?”

Bei Yao also didn’t know what she was doing, but even in her innocence, she knew Wu Mo had ill intentions.

Girls were born with extra sensitivity.

Seeing Bei Yao ignore her, Wu Mo said: “Bei Yao, acting like this means he can’t even drink water. Isn’t that too much?” She thought, it would be best if Pei Chuan saw how unreasonable Bei Yao was.

Bei Yao’s eyes were clear and transparent, reflecting Pei Chuan’s appearance. Her crisp voice carried a few traces of grievance as she held her own cup: “This cup is the one with glucose added.”

His dark eyes looked at her without any meaning of blame. His Adam’s apple moved.

Shi Tian could barely watch anymore. She efficiently poured a cup and randomly dumped a pile of glucose in it, smiling without warmth: “Come, come, student, drink up, drink up.”

Pei Chuan lowered his eyes and took Shi Tian’s water to drink. He frowned lightly. Shi Tian… exactly how much glucose did she add? It was so sweet his taste buds suffered.

This development left the spectators confused.

In the end, seeing Pei Chuan drink the president’s water, they reluctantly concluded—ah, the volunteer service must be thorough. When others later reached the finish line barely able to support themselves, people still helped them, which glossed over the incident.

Wu Mo knew she only had this one chance. She stepped forward: “Let me help you over to rest. There are athlete benches over there.”

Bei Yao inexplicably just knew he wouldn’t let her help. She could only press her lips together and watch him.

Pei Chuan glanced at Bei Yao. She actually never acted willfully—this was the first time, and it could count as throwing a tantrum when pushed. Even knowing that perhaps what she thought wasn’t what he hoped for, his heart felt like someone had gently blown on it—soft beyond measure.

He pushed Wu Mo’s hand away, didn’t look at Wu Mo once, and gritted his teeth to walk over himself.

A mere twenty meters—it was like dying again.

Wu Mo’s expression didn’t look good. Actually, she also understood that by actively showing goodwill today, she’d torn off the pretense with Bei Yao. Bei Yao was innocent, but not a fool. But tearing off the pretense was tearing off the pretense—in her heart was instead a kind of dark satisfaction that it had finally come to this. Who would win was still uncertain.

Pei Chuan still remembered the matter with Han Zhen. There were still many classmates around. He endured the pain: “Student Bei.”

“Student Bei” turned around. He said in a low voice: “I left my wallet at the mountain base. Could you help me get it?”

She walked over and crouched beside him: “What does the wallet look like?”

“Black, at the little stall selling water, in my jacket.”

Bei Yao felt annoyed with herself. Now looking back, she also felt that not letting him drink Wu Mo’s water earlier was so embarrassing.

Her small face turned slightly pink. Her voice was thin as she said softly in his ear: “Um… Student Pei, Wu Mo is no good at all.” Speaking ill of someone behind their back for the first time, even her ear tips turned red, her eyes shy with a shallow watery gleam.

He looked down at her.

Yes, Wu Mo is no good at all. What about you—can you recommend yourself?

However, he still had reason. He could only squeeze out one word from his throat: “Mm.”

“Student Bei,” having finished speaking ill, fled in disarray.

He forced himself to watch her get on the bus down the mountain, groaning softly from pain. Pei Chuan called Wang Zhan: “Evergreen Mountain. Send someone up.”

Wang Zhan knew he always pushed himself. Calling him must mean it was very serious. On the other end, Wang Zhan’s forehead veins bulged. What trouble are you causing now?

Wang Zhan pulled strings to have someone rush up the mountain non-stop to bring Pei Chuan down.

On the other side, Han Zhen ran up panting. Looking around, only Wu Mo sat there—no sign of Bei Yao.

The young man’s shirt was also soaked halfway with sweat. He ran over, the light in his eyes dimmed.

Wu Mo’s heart jumped—only then remembering she’d also deceived Han Zhen.

She quickly poured Han Zhen a cup of water, saying softly: “She wasn’t willing to come. No matter what I said, she refused. I’m sorry.”

Han Zhen shook his head. He smiled lightly: “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. If she’s unwilling to accept, that’s fine too. I… I’ll just admire her silently.”

His figure slowly walked away.

Wu Mo was so angry! Ugh!

Bei Yao stood you up like this and you’re not even angry! You just accepted it dejectedly. For the first time, Wu Mo felt like she was about to vomit blood from anger. That woman just has an excessively pretty face—yet one after another they all favor Bei Yao. Bei Yao prevented Pei Chuan from drinking water, and no matter how uncomfortable, Pei Chuan just silently indulged her.

Han Zhen’s public confession was also blown off, so naturally there’d be no rumors.

~

Three days after the autumn marathon ended, Pei Chuan could still only stay home recuperating.

Wang Zhan looked at the person lying down reading. The young man’s profile was clear and handsome. Wang Zhan said resignedly: “How many times have I said not to do these strenuous exercises? Prosthetics after all aren’t… forget it, you’re first-rate at enduring pain.”

He gave up on himself: “Are you changing your own dressing today again?”

Only then did Pei Chuan give a reaction: “Mm.”

No matter what, Pei Chuan was just a young man. Doctor Wang’s son was this age. He sighed: “Pei Chuan, still, go home.”

Pei Chuan said: “You’re being nosy. You can get lost now.”

“…” Wang Zhan said, “Young man, go back to school early and learn manners from your teachers. Old Wang here is old enough to be your father. Acting like this, no young girls will like you, you know?”

Pei Chuan stiffened, saying in a low voice: “There wouldn’t be any anyway.”

Wang Zhan was joking with him and unintentionally stabbed someone’s heart. Wang Zhan felt quite awkward. He coughed twice and consciously left.

Actually, Wang Zhan could have comforted Pei Chuan, but in the end he didn’t.

His family had a son and a ten-year-old daughter. If he had to let his daughter marry someone with a disability, as a father he’d find it very hard to accept. Besides the physical aspect, their hearts were also especially sensitive—it was hard to find someone who could tolerate and support them through a lifetime.

Some things—not giving hope from the start meant not falling into a deeper abyss.

He remembered that pretty, excellent young girl named Bei Yao. She seemed to be an only child too. If he truly liked her, how difficult and bitter that would be.

Pei Chuan skipped class for five days. When he returned to school, his legs still ached faintly.

Jin Ziyang said: “Brother Chuan, you’re so cool. I wouldn’t dare do what you did. If I skipped class this long, my old man would definitely beat me to death.”

Actually, they all wondered—didn’t Brother Chuan’s family receive calls from the teacher?

Zheng Hang said: “Brother Chuan, are you alright?”

Pei Chuan took out a book from his drawer: “I’m fine.”

Jin Ziyang was puzzled: “Did Brother Wei infect you? How come you’re also starting to read books?”

In the front row, Ji Wei turned around excitedly: “Brother Chuan, do you also understand the joy of learning…”

Pei Chuan frowned: “Shut up.”

Ji Wei was still happy. He said shyly: “The English test the day before yesterday—grades come out next class. If I passed, I’ll treat everyone to a meal.”

Zheng Hang laughed: “Oh oh, blessings to you.”

“Thank you.”

Pei Chuan couldn’t help curving his lips too.

Sometimes he felt youth perhaps wasn’t so dark and hard to endure after all. Those considered bad and delinquent in people’s eyes also had vivid, interesting aspects.

It was just that whenever he thought of another person, his heartbeat would go crazy out of control—so bitter yet so sweet. Clearly he liked her earth-shatteringly, and she couldn’t see anything, yet he kept to his corner alone. Not giving up had become satisfaction.

After the English papers were distributed—Student Ji Wei almost cried again. His English score was 62!

He carefully folded the paper. Zheng Hang died laughing: “Right, right, keep it safe. Next time you might not get this number.”

Ji Wei didn’t mind his good friend’s teasing. He seriously took out his error notebook to record.

Ji Wei’s family was wealthy. In fact, among the several young men, his family circumstances were quite good, but due to being naturally airheaded, he had few friends and others couldn’t tell he was rich.

Qingshi was closest, so they set the treat location at Qingshi.

Jin Ziyang still brought his little girlfriend. Several people opened a private room, then later he suggested going to the main hall to sing.

In fact, Qingshi’s fifth-floor hall was very lively.

Relying on wealthy students alone, such a large Qingshi couldn’t stay open. So as fame grew, Qingshi instead became more like a club adults loved to visit.

This way, students went less often.

After all, during adolescence, though they longed for the adult world, there was also an inexplicable timidity stopping people’s steps.

Pei Chuan’s legs still hurt. He leaned against the bar and had the server mix him a drink.

Ji Wei found a table in the corner. He worked hard to coordinate with the waiter—could they get him a desk lamp? The colorful lights dazzled his eyes, making reading inconvenient.

Pei Chuan, actually, from childhood to now, never really had friends. Jin Ziyang and the others were the first people he’d befriended somewhat. Sometimes he felt confused about his current world, but good students’ circles were mostly aloof and proud—his eccentric personality would be an anomaly.

Glasses clinked. From time to time, people went from the fifth floor further upstairs. Some played ball at Qingshi, some got rooms. People from society came and went. Pei Chuan half-closed his eyes, watching a man with an abnormal expression hurriedly go upstairs.

With one glance, he guessed that person had taken drugs—his mental state was very poor.

Pei Chuan didn’t make a sound.

Just before Jin Ziyang and the others went over, he tapped the bar table: “Go back early tonight.”

Zheng Hang didn’t object: “Alright. Brother Chuan, want a cigarette?”

Pei Chuan took it. At nine o’clock in Qingshi’s night, a group of criminal police rushed in.

Fate seemed to play a joke. Pei Haobin walked at the front and immediately saw Pei Chuan. The young man sat on a stool in front of the bar, long legs slightly bent.

Across the crowd, father and son’s eyes met.

Pei Haobin’s eyes widened in disbelief. This year’s Pei Chuan had cold, indifferent brows, a cigarette between his lips. Through the curling smoke, Pei Chuan’s expression was also distant.

Around them, people sang loudly. Colorful lights crisscrossed and fell.

Time seemed to reverse in an instant. Four-year-old little Pei Chuan sat on his shoulders laughing: “When I grow up, I want to be like Dad—be a police officer and catch bad guys.”

Pei Haobin’s heart trembled as he remembered—Pei Chuan had also once moved toward the light, striving forward.