Tripping during a race wasn’t common—but it happened to Liu Muyu. She’d just surged past Class Six into first place. Now, this fall might cost her everything. It felt like plunging into an abyss.
Liu Muyu scrambled up instantly and kept running. But it was already too late.
Falling in a 4000-meter long-distance race might not be fatal. But in a mixed-gender 4x100 relay? One stumble meant total defeat.
That was their reality now.
In just two seconds, Liu Muyu plummeted from first to sixth place. Had she risen any slower, she’d have been dead last.
“How could this happen?”
“Was Liu Muyu too eager?”
“Probably just nervous.”
“What a shame.”
Murmurs rippled through the students around Zhou Zhiyi. No one voiced blame—not openly, at least. Some surely cursed her inwardly, but they’d never say it aloud. Speaking up would only invite scorn.
“Liu Muyu, keep going! You’ve got this!”
Wu Yuyang shouted desperately, his voice cutting through the chatter. Zhou Zhiyi couldn’t help but admire his courage. Or maybe… envy it.
By the time Liu Muyu passed the baton to Wu Feng, other teams had already pulled ahead. Zhou Zhiyi caught Wu Feng’s lips moving—he’d definitely said something.
*Words of comfort? Encouragement?*
*Is that even allowed mid-race?*
Wu Feng flashed a brilliant smile. Then he shot forward like a bullet, pouring every ounce of strength into his final leg. His speed shattered Zhou Zhiyi’s perception of him. *Am I dreaming?*
*You call yourself a shut-in with this physique?*
*No true shut-in moves like you!*
*Could he actually snag a medal in this last 100 meters? That’s absurd!*
*Rascal Lolita God, stop messing with reality!*
“Wu Yuanbo’s explosive power is truly exceptional,” Li Han murmured, watching Wu Feng’s blur of motion. “Guess he trained seriously after all.”
Zhou Zhiyi stayed silent. This defied common sense. No amount of training could explain this. If sheer effort granted such speed, Qin Huan would’ve dominated the first leg.
The race reached its climax. First and second place crossed the finish line. Third and fourth were separated by a hair’s breadth—a trace of distance that stole the medal from Zhou Zhiyi’s class.
“What a shame.”
“If only Liu Muyu hadn’t fallen…”
“Who knew Wu Feng had it in him?”
“He’s always so gloomy. Never expected him to be this athletic.”
…
Zhou Zhiyi didn’t join the chatter. It was pointless. Liu Muyu’s fall wasn’t an accident—it was plot necessity. Just like Mu Shiqi’s stumble before her.
*To connect with a heroine, the story demands a bridge. That’s manga law. That’s novel law.*
After the race, Wu Feng and Liu Muyu stood talking quietly. Wu Yuyang rushed over, making Zhou Zhiyi wonder if he’d accidentally cross some invisible line.
“That kid Wu Yuyang claims he doesn’t like Liu Muyu?” Xie Wenbolong muttered beside Zhou Zhiyi, loud enough to be heard. “He’s awfully eager. What’s so special about that expressionless girl anyway?”
“Everyone has their merits. You just haven’t seen them.”
Zhou Zhiyi took a sip of water.
“So Wu Yuyang found hers, huh?” Xie Wenbolong chuckled, dropping the subject. “Where are you off to? Got a thing for Liu Muyu too?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Just heading to the restroom.”
Zhou Zhiyi stood up. The restroom route passed Liu Muyu’s spot—and his curiosity burned to see how Wu Yuyang’s bold move would end.
“Disgusting.”
Liu Muyu’s signature word cut through the air again. But this time, it wasn’t aimed at Zhou Zhiyi.
Its target was Wu Yuyang.
