Ruan Yu jogged to the check-in point. Though the race hadn’t started yet, her heart was already about to leap out of her throat. “Ruan Yu?” the staff member at registration looked at her.

“Yes, I’m Ruan Yu.” The staff member handed her a number tag, which she took and secured to the front of her shirt, fastening all four corners with safety pins through the fabric.

Other competitors were warming up, so she also did some light stretches to loosen her joints. Her three roommates stood nearby, making fist-pumping “fighting” gestures to cheer her on, but her gaze kept unconsciously drifting toward the main platform.

That dark figure was no longer visible, but her heart was still racing. Why did he come here? Did he come specifically to cheer for her? Or was it just by chance?

“Student Ruan Yu.” The registration staff suddenly called out to her.

“Yes?”

“Are you running in those shoes?”

Ruan Yu looked down at her canvas shoes and nodded.

“Don’t you have athletic shoes? Three thousand meters is quite long, and canvas shoes will tire your feet,” the staff member said kindly.

“It’s fine.” Ruan Yu gave her a slight smile, though it quickly faded from her lips.

She didn’t have athletic shoes. Even moderately comfortable athletic shoes cost several hundred yuan, and since she rarely needed them, she couldn’t justify buying them. She only had two pairs of canvas shoes, bought online for just dozens of yuan—economical, comfortable enough, and easy to match with clothes.

This sports meet had been unexpected, and she’d never imagined running three thousand meters. If she’d known earlier, she would have set aside some of her scholarship money from last semester to buy herself a pair of athletic shoes.

The race started quickly.

Since runners could break lanes immediately in the three-thousand-meter race, the staff only drew a diagonal virtual line on the synthetic track as the starting line, without clearly marking separate lanes. All the participating athletes were squeezed together, with Ruan Yu pushed to the outermost edge.

“Bang!”

At the sound of the starting gun, the competitors surged forward in a crowd. Some accelerated from the start, while others jogged leisurely at the back—each with their strategy.

After moving into the inner lane, Ruan Yu maintained a steady pace, keeping her position in the middle of the pack.

One lap.

Two laps.

Three laps.

She felt her breathing growing heavier, and the cheers and shouts around her gradually became muffled.

When Jian Xiangxiang handed her water from inside the track, she reminded her, “Ruan Ruan, that’s about enough.”

But Ruan Yu seemed not to hear her words. She just moistened her dry throat and lips with the water and continued forward.

Four laps…

Five laps…

Her legs felt like they were filled with lead, her nose stung, and she could only breathe through her mouth. The wind howled against her face, rushing straight into her lungs. She felt terrible and wanted to give up.

But a voice kept echoing in her ears.

“Little Fish, keep going!”

She must be crazy, must be possessed—she told herself that just for those words from Teng Yi, she had to persist until the end.

Six laps.

Her steps became increasingly difficult, her forward momentum growing slower and slower.

Seven laps.

Her internal organs felt completely dried out.

In her daze, she heard many people calling her name, cheering her on. She knew she was close to victory—a victory not about placement, but about conquering herself.

Seven and a half laps!

Finally!

She didn’t know if Teng Yi was still at the field, but she thought if only he could see this.