Feng Yulan in her sailor uniform was undoubtedly the star of today’s school sports meet—even the teachers were whispering about her.

“Whose class is that girl from? So stunning!” an older teacher asked.

A-Dan covered her mouth, giggling but staying silent.

“I think she’s from Class Three.”

“All three girls are gorgeous.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard rumors. The boys in my class keep talking about those two.”

“The one in the middle? Never seen her before?” asked the English teacher substituting for Class Three.

“Ahem…” A-Dan coughed.

“Xiao Dan, we’re asking—you new?”

“Secret~” A-Dan winked playfully.

…

Rumors spread like wildfire. By the second half of the sports meet, everyone knew Feng Yulan was actually a boy—except the oblivious teachers.

The students, especially the boys, refused to believe it. A crowd gathered under Class Three’s stands, craning their necks to spot proof beneath her skirt.

They were disappointed. Feng Yulan wore boy shorts under her skirt—flat and featureless, though a subtle dip hinted at… well, her sister’s Japanese otokonoko panties, a mischievous gift. Her sister lurked nearby, snapping photos and stifling laughter.

The meet was nearing its finale. Events like shot put and long jump had wrapped up. After a short break, the grand climax awaited: the grueling 10,000-meter race.

Even students who’d ignored the earlier events now lined the track, eager for the closing spectacle.

“Cheer for me!” Jin Jiahui grinned up at Feng Yulan from the track.

“Whoa—perfect angle! Full view of the kiddie panties!” He gave a thumbs-up.

Blushing, Feng Yulan pressed her skirt down, covering the white lace.

“Ooh!” A weak-willed boy’s nose started bleeding.

*Is he really a guy?* The question haunted everyone—even classmates who’d seen him use the boys’ restroom now wondered if this was his twin sister.

Many teachers argued the 10,000-meter race should be scrapped. Untrained high schoolers rarely finished it; it tested willpower more than endurance. Yet veteran teachers insisted on keeping it “to build character.” Every class had to enter at least one runner. The junior high heats had ended. Now the seniors would run—and with them, the meet itself.

Thirty-odd runners crowded the starting line. Most were relaxed—finishing counted as victory, and dropping out drew no shame. Only the track team members stretched nervously.

“Jin! Go!” Class Three cheered.

Jin Jiahui glanced at a track girl’s muscular thighs, then up at Feng Yulan’s smooth, slender legs.

*Tch. Blue’s still prettier,* he muttered.

Feng Yulan caught his gaze, mouthing “Go!” and pumping a tiny fist.

Jin flashed an OK sign. Suddenly, the grueling race didn’t seem so long.

“Ready… Go!” The starter’s whistle pierced the air. Runners surged forward.

Some lagged behind, already exhausted. Others sprinted wildly for attention. A few paced steadily behind the track team. Jin Jiahui fell into the last group. Though untrained, he knew breathing techniques. He set his own rhythm, ignoring the frontrunners. Soon, others fell in behind him.

“Woo-hoo!” A show-off had lapped the leaders, whooping as he ran. He beamed at the attention.

Twenty-five laps on a 400-meter track.

One lap. Two. Three…

By lap four, stragglers dropped out. The show-off quit early—attention was his only goal. The walkers at the back chatted as they strolled, debating Feng Yulan’s gender.

“She’s totally a girl!”

“Sailor uniform?”

“Dumbass—it’s a Japanese school uniform.”

“How sure?”

“I peeked under her skirt…”

Jin Jiahui lapped them, overhearing the creepy gossip.

*Must be nice,* he thought dryly.

Ten laps in, Jin’s stamina drained. Manual labor had built his strength, but this was uncharted territory. His mind blanked except for two things: forward motion, and fleeting images of Feng Yulan in that sailor uniform.

Fifteen laps. Only three non-track students remained. At sixteen laps, one stumbled off the track, collapsing onto the infield grass, gasping. Another joined him.

“Jin Jiahui! Go!” A familiar voice rang from the stands—Feng Yulan’s. His voice hadn’t broken yet, high and youthful, matching his delicate appearance. That shout poured every ounce of his courage into the air.

“Hah… hah…” Jin panted, breath ragged. His torso leaned forward, legs churning in a shuffle barely faster than walking.

The voice hit him. He gritted his teeth, pushing harder. His pace quickened.

Administrators seized the moment to praise his perseverance. For once, Jin Jiahui was the model student.

But as minutes ticked by, teachers grew uneasy. *Is this safe? Could he collapse?*

Lap twenty.

Jin ran on autopilot, eyes shut. Sound faded. His legs moved by instinct. Stopping meant never rising again.

*Keep going!*

*How many laps left?* he wondered.

“TWENTY-ONE!” the PE teacher bellowed as Jin passed the start line.

*Almost there…*

THUD! Jin collapsed. Teachers and students rushed over—but he shoved their hands away, staggering upright.

“Not… done yet…”

Fall. Rise. Fall again. Rise. Push forward.

The stadium fell silent. Every eye locked on Jin Jiahui.

“Stop him! He’ll hurt himself!” the dean urged.

Teachers hesitated. Was denying his will truly kindness?

Jin fell again on the rubber track. This time, no one moved to help. He didn’t rise.

*Is this the end?*

Feng Yulan bolted down from the stands—no trace of his usual shyness. His skirt fluttered in the wind, revealing white panties, but he didn’t care.

He reached Jin, hauling him up.

The crowd witnessed first love in its purest form. Teachers reminisced about their youth, hearts swelling with nostalgia. Students watched in hushed awe.

The “girl” steadied the boy, patting his shoulder. “Finish the race.”

Jin met her gaze, forcing a faint smile. He nodded.

Arm in arm, they inched toward the finish line.

Just before it, Jin tapped Feng Yulan’s hand. “I’ll… do it myself.”

Feng Yulan searched his face. Jin’s eyes held resolute fire. She let go.

The crowd erupted.

Jin was sprinting—slowly, but fiercely—determined to cross alone.

He lunged over the line.

Thunderous applause.

THUD!

Jin slumped forward. Cheers turned to gasps.

Feng Yulan caught him, but Jin’s weight dragged them both down. They sat tangled on the track.

“Blue…” Jin’s eyelids fluttered open, then closed. He passed out.

…