This year’s sports festival featured forty-two events. Everyone except seniors had to participate. Points would be awarded for each ranking, and the class with the highest total would claim the championship…
During homeroom, Old Liu explained the rules and precautions from the podium.
Xia Chuan realized this year’s event differed from past ones. With dozens of new events added, the festival would span three days. To boost enthusiasm and competition, a class point system had been introduced—the top-scoring class would receive a mysterious reward.
Xia Chuan didn’t get his hopes up. His class stood no chance. Nearly every other class in the grade had athletic prodigies. The reward was out of reach.
He dropped the thought. Just focus on his own races.
“Master, I heard higher-ups are taking this festival seriously. City officials will attend the opening ceremony, and TV crews are coming to film. I’ll dress extra sharp that day—who knows, I might end up on camera!”
Bai Yifan had woken up after morning reading, his energy fully restored.
Seeing him so chatty now, Xia Chuan struggled to connect him to the shy, sweet boy from just over a week ago.
“You could wear a skirt. Guarantee you’d be camera-ready then.”
Xia Chuan offered the suggestion without hesitation.
“Master, please stop bringing that up! I *will* become a real man. I swear it.”
Bai Yifan clenched his fists, resolve flashing in his eyes.
Xia Chuan held back further teasing.
Old Liu wrapped up his explanation in ten minutes.
“Any suggestions to make this festival a success?”
He asked out of routine, expecting no real input.
“I have one.”
A hand shot up.
All eyes turned to the speaker—a bespectacled, clean-cut boy standing tall before Old Liu.
“Oh? What is it?”
Old Liu braced himself.
“I propose forming a cheer squad from girls not competing. They’d root for our athletes.”
“Not a bad idea!”
Old Liu had anticipated something odd. This was practical.
“What does everyone think of Liu Youqing’s suggestion?”
The girls weren’t having it.
“No way—that’s exhausting.”
“I’d die of embarrassment cheering in public.”
“Forget it.”
Having only their class flaunt a cheer squad *was* awkward.
“Alright then,” Old Liu conceded awkwardly.
Xia Chuan didn’t care about cheer squads. But Bai Yifan did.
“Wait!”
*Slam!*
Bai Yifan stood, palm cracking against his desk.
Every head snapped toward him. His expression was stern, gaze sharp as he swept the room.
*Xia Chuan stared. Is this really that little crossdresser?*
“You disappoint me!” Bai Yifan declared. “Our athletes fight on the field for our class honor, and you refuse to spare them cheers? This festival isn’t about one person—it’s ours. Everyone’s giving their all. What about you? We’re in our second year. This is our *last* high school sports festival. Are you really content doing nothing?”
His fiery speech left the girls bowing their heads in shame.
Xia Chuan gaped. *Since when did he talk like this?*
Bai Yifan seemed to glow with blinding radiance.
“If Xiao Fan says so… count me in.”
(The nickname “Xiao Fan” stuck because Bai Yifan’s cute looks made him the girls’ confidant.)
“Fine, I’ll join too.”
“Me as well.”
One by one, hands rose—even from girls competing. The holdouts reluctantly followed.
“Thank you, everyone.”
Bai Yifan sat down.
“What was *that* about?” Xia Chuan whispered. The glow was real, but this didn’t fit.
“Wasting time just… pissed me off,” Bai Yifan insisted stiffly.
“Hmm?” Xia Chuan narrowed his eyes. He’d seen Bai Yifan’s hands trembling under the desk.
“Okay, okay… there’s a reason.” Bai Yifan wilted under scrutiny. He glanced around, then leaned in conspiratorially: “This was a plot. By all the boys.”
“Huh?” *Right. I’m the outcast. Of course I wasn’t looped in.*
“Why?”
“Master… don’t you think high school girls in pleated skirts, cheering for us… gets your blood pumping?” Bai Yifan breathed.
Xia Chuan’s imagination ignited: girls shouting in the crowd, skirts fluttering in the breeze, glimpses of forbidden territory beneath…
His nose grew warm.
He said nothing. Just gave a solemn thumbs-up.
*Well played.*
Bai Yifan grinned back, shameless.
“Teacher,” Liu Youqing spoke again while they whispered, “we should pick a cheer captain first.”
“Anyone in mind?”
“Our class flower, Liu Yixia, would be perfect.”
*There it was—the core of the conspiracy.*
“I’ll cheer, but *not* as captain. Find someone else.” Liu Yixia stood abruptly, refusal sharp.
Old Liu blinked. She usually declined politely. *What’s gotten into her?*
Xia Chuan watched her. *Still upset over that incident?* He couldn’t ask—not in his current position.
“I have another candidate.” Liu Youqing paused. The boys’ backup plans were solid, but he’d just had a better idea. “What about Bai Yifan?”
*Perfect.* Bai Yifan’s cute face, petite frame—he’d look adorable in the cheer uniform. If only he weren’t male.
Murmurs erupted. The crowd loved it.
“That might… work,” Old Liu hedged.
Bai Yifan froze. *This wasn’t the deal!*
“Teacher, no! I’m a *boy*—I can’t lead girls!” He scrambled to refuse. As the plot’s mastermind, he knew exactly what “cheer captain” meant: parading in that mortifying uniform under the sun.
“But Bai Yifan,” Liu Youqing pressed smoothly, “you just said we must contribute to our class. Now you back down?”
*You sold me out!*
Bai Yifan’s earlier words had become a trap.
The girls wavered.
“If Xiao Fan won’t join, I quit too.”
“He literally just said that…”
“Xiao Fan, were you bluffing?”
Their stares pinned him down.
*Easy out: expose the boys’ scheme. But they’ll kill me for ruining the plan.*
*No. I’m a man! I have pride!*
He steeled himself. *Speak the truth. Even if it kills me.*
He stood, voice ringing clear:
“Please let me be cheer captain!”
*…Sorry. I chickened out.*
Xia Chuan watched Bai Yifan smile brightly while dying inside. One phrase echoed in his mind:
*The wheel of karma turns fast. None escape its path.*
—
Smiles of schadenfreude. Smiles of triumph. Smiles of victory.
No one noticed the flicker of something strange in Bai Yifan’s eyes.
Some people wear masks so well they bury their true selves deep.
Lost in the role, they forget which face is real.
Like…
Like a troupe of mad actors.
Perhaps everyone wears a mask sometimes. Some take it off. Others wear it forever.
