Not long after Zhou Zhiyi returned to the playground, Wu Feng came back wearing a white T-shirt.

So he really changed out of that dress...

"Huh? Where's Mu Shiqi? How is she?"

Zhou Zhiyi asked curiously, though he figured it matched his guess well enough.

"The matron at the infirmary said she still needs to rest a while longer," Wu Feng replied, a faint, unnatural flush on his face. "Girls aren't like you—acting like nothing happened with a sprained ankle."

Nothing wrong?

You've got to be kidding...

"Nothing wrong? It hurts like hell!"

"Then go home and rest."

"I'm big on team spirit. How could I skip the sports meet?" Zhou Zhiyi grinned. "Besides, my son's standing in for me today, right?"

"I'm no Hua Mulan."

Just as Wu Feng finished that and moved to sit down, the loudspeaker crackled to life.

The announcement meant the boys' 4000-meter race was starting any second.

Seriously? Perfect timing?

"Then let's both give it our all, Wu Feng!"

Li Han—the sports dunce—jumped up, flashing that classic bodybuilder's grin. Honestly, he looked a bit like a fitness model meme.

"I'll cheer, sure. But don't expect miracles."

Wu Feng still wore that otaku-style lethargy. Zhou Zhiyi held out his hand for a high-five.

"Do your best! Lose badly, and I disown you as my son."

"Who's your son?!"

Wu Feng shot back, but he slapped Zhou Zhiyi's palm anyway before sprinting onto the field.

This long run setup was totally different. Usually grouped, now all high schoolers crammed together.

Fourteen classes total!

That meant twenty-eight runners.

All twenty-eight squeezed at the start line. Nearly every foot edged over it slightly, but the referee ignored it. Guess that tiny gap wouldn't decide the race.

Cheers surged like pumped air, flooding every corner of the field. Zhou Zhiyi spotted Wu Feng's nervousness and felt surprised.

Wu Feng was usually ultra-laid-back. Honestly, without that second male lead's Fate Mark, he and Zhou Zhiyi were almost identical.

Yet even this casual guy got tense. Guess cheers make anyone want to push their limits.

"Ready!" the starter called, whistle in mouth. "Go!"

The sharp whistle blast shot them forward like cheetahs. But the burst faded fast—they slowed to a jog.

Ten laps, after all!

Sprint now, and what's left for later?

A few reckless hotheads charged ahead to show off. Thankfully, Wu Feng wasn't one.

After two laps, the pack split into four groups. Wu Feng lagged in the third.

Shockingly, Li Han—the sports dunce—was here too.

But Li Han was clearly pacing himself. Relaxed face, steady breaths, moving smooth and even.

Wu Feng looked ragged. Sweat beaded on his brow, breaths turning ragged. At this rate, he'd drop to the fourth group soon.

"Class Four, go go go!"

Qin Huan suddenly shouted, cheering for Wu Feng and Li Han. Totally fitting her "Sunny Girl" nickname.

"Son, do your best!"

Zhou Zhiyi roared next. Maybe the sporty second male lead boost made his voice extra loud. Qin Huan blinked, turned, and gave a radiant, flower-like smile.

Most smiles hide some fakeness. Not hers. Pure as a child's, without a trace of pretense.

Seeing that smile, Zhou Zhiyi recalled the line—

*I'll protect this smile.*

Ugh, saying that aloud is way too cheesy.

His words ignited the class like a lighter. Cheers erupted, growing wilder by the second.

Wu Feng glanced over. Like an empty tank suddenly refueled, he surged forward like a madman.

He shot to the front of the second group. Class Four exploded in thunderous cheers.

But...

Is this really smart?

Seven laps left!