Li Han wasn't as eager as Wu Feng. He ran at a steady, unhurried pace, as if victory was already in his grasp. Though he lacked systematic training, his physical fitness made a top-five finish seem effortless.

After all, this school sports meet had no athletic elites.

Soon, the reckless sprinters who'd charged ahead without stamina were panting heavily. With six laps left, it was unclear how they'd continue.

Wu Feng wasn't faring much better. His breathing lost rhythm; he looked utterly drained and weak. Though he led the first group now, it wouldn't last. Without a twist, he'd likely miss the top ten.

But since Wu Feng was the protagonist, Zhou Zhiyi couldn't be sure.

*Let's see how the plot unfolds*, Zhou Zhiyi thought. He grabbed the snacks from Li Han's seat and started eating.

By the fifth lap, the initial sprinters had fallen to the fourth group—even trailing within it. Wu Feng avoided that fate but barely, stuck at the tail end of the third group.

Li Han, however, began to accelerate.

His speed wasn't explosive, but it outpaced the gasping students. He quickly took the lead in the second group. Only three runners remained ahead in the first group.

That put him in fourth place. Just a little more effort, and he'd win a medal for their class.

"Go, Xiao Feng!"

A sudden voice cut through—Chu Xinyue. Her eyes held a trace of worry, yet her tone was fiercely determined.

*That kid Wu Feng really is enviable...*

Zhou Zhiyi shook his head. As the second male lead, he knew he had to cheer too.

"Son, go for it!"

"Wu Feng, fighting!"

"Fighting!"

Class Four erupted in cheers again. How many times had this happened now?

But the encouragement changed little. Wu Feng still couldn't speed up. At least he held his pace, staying in the third group.

Minutes later, only two laps remained.

The runners had split into five distinct groups, gaps widening clearly.

Li Han led the first group, ranking third overall. Wu Feng, fueled by cheers, moved to the middle of the third group. The fourth and fifth groups belonged to the near-collapsing sprinters.

To Zhou Zhiyi's surprise, no twist occurred.

If cheers failed, only one move remained at this stage: the protagonist trips, bleeds heavily, then finishes the race inspired by his harem, igniting the crowd.

That had to be it.

With two laps left, the entire stadium roared with cheers. The track felt electrified. Yet the effect was minimal—most runners were exhausted, pushing forward by sheer willpower alone.

*Sounds like a shonen manga*, Zhou Zhiyi mused. Then, a voice nearby cut in...

"Xiao Feng, if you win... we can do H, okay?"

Chu Xinyue blurted it out, cheeks flushing. Everyone's gaze snapped to her—even students from other classes turned their way.

*Holy crap, she's pulling that card?*