Chapter 21: Heart Moves: Day 1

With Bei Huai guiding her from the side, Jiang Wan found running much easier.

Several days of training had significantly boosted her long-distance endurance.

The day before the Sports Meet, they went through their usual training session.

After completing the 1500 meters, Jiang Wan slowed to a walk around the track, regulating her heart rate, loosening her muscles, and keeping her blood flowing properly to ward off risks like transient cerebral ischemia or fainting.

Bei Huai had taught her that trick.

The evening breeze ruffled her loose strands of hair, sweeping away most of her fatigue.

Jiang Wan glanced back at the girl trailing her, then looked out to the horizon, asking casually, “Do you think I’ve got a shot at first place this time?”

The girl hadn’t expected the question. She paused, pondering it seriously for a few seconds before replying, “Not much hope.”

Jiang Wan: “…”

She spun around, exasperated. “The race is tomorrow—can’t you say something nice to encourage me?”

“That kind of thing doesn’t work on you.” Bei Huai arched a brow, arms crossed, her expression saying plainly that Jiang Wan’s abilities spoke for themselves.

It left Jiang Wan feeling choked up.

“Then if I actually take first, will you grant me one request?” She drew a deep breath, gazing at Bei Huai with anticipation.

First place? It felt impossible. Beating Bei Huai alone was out of the question.

Still, she wanted to give it a shot.

Who could resist eyes sparkling like that?

Bei Huai pressed her lips together, her gaze dropping to conceal the storm brewing in her depths.

In the dim evening light, no one noticed the girl’s ears turning pink.

“Win first, then we’ll talk,” she said, feigning indifference.

“So that’s a yes?” Jiang Wan latched onto the key point, as usual.

The girl huffed. “Think what you want.”

Whatever Bei Huai truly thought, the real tension hit Jiang Wan once the race loomed.

As she warmed up, she scanned the other competitors.

Anyone entering the 1500-meter race had real talent—unlike her, pure impulse.

The more she looked, the colder her heart grew. She could already picture herself near the back.

Lost in her worries, a hand suddenly covered her eyes, plunging her into darkness.

A soft voice murmured near her ear. “Don’t look. Stick to your rhythm.”

The hand lifted away.

Jiang Wan blinked, vision clearing, and whipped her head around.

Bei Huai leaned against a pillar in her number 7 jersey, face calm as ever, left-ear stud glinting. She didn’t look like she was about to race.

“Got it.” Jiang Wan steadied herself with a slow exhale and nodded.

If her pace got thrown off before the start, she’d be doomed once the gun fired.

Spotting the lingering nerves in Jiang Wan’s eyes, Bei Huai paused, then gave her shoulder an awkward pat. “No need to tense up. Just like our regular training.”

Jiang Wan looked up in surprise, then broke into a grin. “You’re improving—actually comforting me now.”

The hand yanked back.

Bei Huai snorted and turned to leave.

Shy?

Jiang Wan stifled a laugh. “Where are you going? Race starts any second.”

Bei Huai’s steps faltered. Face stiff, she trudged back, clearly reluctant.

The exchange lightened Jiang Wan’s mood considerably.

Soon, the starting gun cracked.

The runners surged forward like arrows loosed from bows.

Competitors overtook Jiang Wan one after another.

Before she knew it, she was in the middle of the pack.

“Stay steady. Don’t let them throw you off,” Bei Huai said firmly from beside her.

Even mid-run, her voice stayed even, as casual as a stroll.

Jiang Wan nodded without speaking.

Chatting while running risked hitching breaths and ruining her rhythm—Bei Huai had drilled that into her.

For Bei Huai, though, it was effortless.

What Jiang Wan hadn’t anticipated was Bei Huai sticking by her side throughout.

From the even early pace to the late acceleration, Bei Huai matched her stride perfectly.

As the race heated up, rivals began fading. Jiang Wan ramped up her speed for the final 300-meter sprint, passing them one by one toward the finish line.

But unexpectedly, a girl with slightly tanned skin quickly overtook her.

With only a short hundred meters left to the finish line, the championship that had seemed within reach was slipping farther and farther away.

Jiang Wan could only watch helplessly as the gap between the girl and her widened bit by bit, no matter how hard she tried to catch up.

Gritting her teeth against the burning ache in her calves, she pushed into a desperate sprint.

In the end, though, skill had prevailed over effort.

The moment she crossed the finish line, Jiang Wan felt utterly drained, her rhythm completely shattered—and she accidentally twisted her ankle.

Just as she was about to collapse, a pair of warm arms wrapped steadily around her waist.

“You okay?”

Jiang Wan looked up to see the girl’s sweat-matted hair, her furrowed brows, and eyes full of concern.

It wasn’t anything serious—just missing out on first place and a sprained ankle.

But for some reason, the instant she saw Bei Huai’s face, a wave of grievances flooded her chest, and tears started streaming down uncontrollably.

“What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” Seeing the little girl crying so fiercely, Bei Huai panicked at once.

In her mind, Jiang Wan had a gentle temperament but a tough core—she wasn’t the type to bawl her eyes out.

For her to be sobbing like this now, her little face deathly pale, she must be in serious pain.

Bei Huai grew frantic. Without a second thought, she scooped Jiang Wan up into her arms and bolted for the infirmary, brushing off questions from the other teachers and referees.

“Damn, didn’t she just finish the 1500? And she’s got the strength to carry someone?!” one of the watching students exclaimed from behind.

“Insane—that speed totally smoked the previous winner.”

“Speaking of, why’d Bei Huai suddenly join the sports meet? That’s so not her vibe.”

“Yeah…”

“…”

~~~

“Doctor Xu! Doctor Xu!”

“What’re you hollering about!” Doctor Xu snapped irritably as he turned around, only to see the red-haired girl charging in with someone in her arms.

“Doctor Xu, quick—check where she’s hurt!”

“Don’t you know first come, first served? Park it over there and wait.” Doctor Xu took one glance and knew Jiang Wan had just twisted her ankle.

With Bei Huai acting so frantic, though, he’d half-expected some major injury.

By now, Jiang Wan had caught her breath a little. Embarrassed by the fuss, she tugged at Bei Huai’s sleeve and mumbled through sniffles, “I’m fine… just… just sprained my ankle.”

“A sprain made you cry that hard?” Bei Huai gently deposited the girl on the exam bed. Her brows had been knitted tight ever since and showed no sign of relaxing—she clearly didn’t buy it.

“It’s just… it hurts, okay.” Jiang Wan felt both aggrieved and mortified, her fingers twisting nervously in Bei Huai’s sleeve as her cheeks flushed pink.

That soft, whiny complaint was enough to melt Bei Huai’s heart into pudding.

“Does it still hurt a lot?” she asked, her own brows pinched in worry.

The girl mumbled back, “Yeah.”

Bei Huai’s heart gave a little flutter at those damp, dewy eyes.

She reached into her pocket, pulled out a piece of candy, and pressed it into Jiang Wan’s hand.

The unexpected gesture caught Jiang Wan so off guard that she forgot all about her grievances. She stared at Bei Huai in wide-eyed surprise, too stunned to speak.

Caught under that gaze, Bei Huai grew a touch awkward. She rubbed her earlobe and glanced away. “Wasn’t it you who said so?”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t you say candy cheers you up and dulls the pain?”

Jiang Wan blinked, momentarily dazed.

She hadn’t realized that offhand comment from their time at the hospital had stuck with Bei Huai this long.

This from the girl who’d insisted she didn’t like sweets—yet here she was, carrying candy around.

Jiang Wan’s nose suddenly tingled, and the tears she’d just blinked back threatened to spill over again.

How strange. When had she turned into such a crybaby?

It wasn’t like her at all.

She sniffled, tore open the wrapper, and popped the candy into her mouth.

Lemon—the familiar tart zing she knew so well.

Bei Huai had even remembered her favorite flavor.

Jiang Wan gazed at her, a bright smile blooming on her face. “Hey, my foot really doesn’t hurt much anymore.”

“Little Bei, thanks for the candy.”

Bei Huai paused, holding the girl’s gaze for several long seconds before she shrugged it off casually. “Whatever. I don’t eat candy anyway—you’re doing me a favor by taking it off my hands.”

She turned slightly to the side, her right hand curling into a loose fist that she brought to her mouth for a soft cough, hiding the upward tug at her lips.

It had been since their argument—this was the first time Jiang Wan had called her Little Bei.

The massive weight that had been hanging over her heart suddenly dropped away, leaving her feeling lighter than air.

If the moment had been right, she might’ve even called Cen Jin to gloat.

The infirmary held one or two other patients, but they were just dealing with scrapes—nothing major.

Doctor Xu wrapped those up in no time. When Jiang Wan’s turn came, he peered at her through his reading glasses for a good long moment before drawling, “Aren’t you the little miss who got beaned by a ball last time?”

Although plenty of patients had come through that day, and some time had passed since then, the doctor still remembered Jiang Wan quite clearly.

After all, anyone who had a connection to Bei Huai was never simple.

“It’s just a minor sprain—nothing serious. Rub on some red flower oil, and you’ll be good as new.” He gave Jiang Wan’s ankle a few glances and spoke nonchalantly.

“A little bump like that, and you all make such a huge production out of it. This old man’s not as spry as he used to be.”

Jiang Wan flushed red at the doctor’s teasing.

Truth be told, she’d been the one making a fuss this time, and it had dragged Bei Huai into worrying right alongside her.

The sports meet was still ongoing, so she called her homeroom teacher, explained what had happened, and got permission to head home early.

On the way back, Bei Huai kept supporting her.

Her foot didn’t hurt all that much anymore, but Bei Huai wouldn’t hear of letting go, so Jiang Wan just went with it.

When they reached the bus stop, Jiang Wan gazed at the endless stream of people flowing down the street and let out a sigh.

“I was so close to first place.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Bei Huai’s voice was calm and even.

Jiang Wan: “?”

“In my heart, you’re already number one.”

“You’re too good at this—how do you say stuff like that so smoothly?” Jiang Wan burst out laughing.

Bei Huai lowered her head to meet the girl’s eyes, her own gaze shadowed and inscrutable. “You can make your request now.”

“You mean it?” Jiang Wan blinked, tilting her head as she sized up Bei Huai with a whole new perspective.

It was like she was seeing her for the first time.

So unexpectedly agreeable.

“Offer expires in three… two…”

“!” There was the Bei Huai she knew.

“No more pushing me away on purpose.” Jiang Wan seized Bei Huai’s hand just before the final count, locking eyes with her intently. “Little Bei, sometimes letting someone get close isn’t such a bad thing.”

Bei Huai’s fingers twitched. She fell silent for two seconds, then gave the tiniest nod.

Push her away? She couldn’t bear the thought—not after this.

“So, Classmate Bei Huai,” the girl said with a smile, “does that make us friends now?”

Accepting someone close. Learning to trust.

After all this time, Jiang Wan was the only one who’d ever gotten her to bend the rules.

“Yes.”

She murmured softly.