No need to think—it was obvious he’d been roasted badly, huh?

Zhou Zhiyi lay in bed, mulling it over. Looking back, he still felt he’d been too childish. He’d actually scolded almost everyone in the comments section. How could he use this account anymore?

"Speaking of which, this 'Fate Mark' thing is just a bead? That’s unreal," Zhou Zhiyi muttered, fiddling with the Fate Core labeled "Second Male Lead." But he couldn’t spot anything magical about it. No matter how he looked, it was utterly ordinary—just like himself before becoming the second male lead. If he lost this Fate Core, he’d lose his identity as the second male lead.

It should’ve been a happy moment. Yet the Rascal Lolita God’s words haunted him:

"If you think life’s better without being the second male lead, go ahead and try," she’d said nonchalantly. "Bear the consequences yourself."

"Bear the consequences myself, huh…" Zhou Zhiyi murmured. He tucked the bead under his pillow and slowly drifted off to sleep.

"Now, let’s use this time to finalize the sports meet sign-ups," Teacher Liu Yongxue announced. She’d rushed through the lesson, leaving half the class free. Just as expected—it was time for the athletic meet list.

As soon as she spoke, the room erupted in chatter, like a flock of noisy sparrows. Some even started discussing the holiday after the meet.

"*Ahem.*" Liu Yongxue cleared her throat, dissatisfied. "Quiet down, everyone. Volunteers, raise your hands."

Hands shot up instantly—like bamboo shoots after rain.

"Hey, Zhou Zhiyi! Are you kidding me? Why aren’t you raising your hand?" a sports-clumsy classmate in front of him snapped, as if Zhou had no choice.

"The emperor isn’t worried, but the eunuch’s sweating bullets," Zhou Zhiyi shot back. Reluctantly, he raised his hand. He couldn’t avoid this plot point—it was his duty as the second male lead.

Zhou Zhiyi’s gaze drifted to Wu Feng, who was engrossed in a novel.

"What’re you staring at? I told you—I’m not joining," Wu Feng said, catching his look.

"You really won’t?"

"Think I’m joking?"

"Fine. Go back to your book."

"Didn’t need your reminder."

This was weird. No plot twist yet? Did it mean the male lead truly wouldn’t join the meet—and let me, the second male lead, steal the spotlight?

Possible?

Zhou Zhiyi frowned. Then he spotted Qin Huan watching him from afar, motionless like an owl eyeing prey. He couldn’t read her lips, but he knew she was mouthing: "Why didn’t Wu Feng raise his hand?"

Not my fault, right?

After tallying sign-ups, Liu Yongxue spoke: "Two spots left. The mixed 4x100 relay needs one girl. The boys’ 4000-meter run needs one boy."

Leftover events—just as I thought…

Wait, 4000 meters? I’ve never heard of a school meet with a 4000-meter run! What’s that Rascal Lolita God scheming? (Downgraded from "blonde" to "rascal," honestly.)

These two events were exactly mine. If no one volunteered, then—

"No takers? I’ll start assigning names," Liu Yongxue warned.

Typical. Teachers always ended these farces by picking standouts—not random choices.

So this was a move too! If she called Wu Feng’s name, the male lead would have to join. All this time, and I missed this trick!

"I’ll join the mixed 4x100 relay."

A voice cut through the noise. It was Liu Muyu—the one who’d scolded Zhou Zhiyi earlier.