Chapter 27 Part 3

Bathed in the hazy glow of sunset, Zhu Lexing stared after her for a long moment before letting out a wistful sigh.

The next day.

The long jump venue was mobbed with spectators, most of them there just to gawk at Zhu Lexing.

She felt their stares and thought, yep, being unbeatable really is lonely.

Her turn was still a ways off, so she whipped out her phone to kill time. As a No. 1 High School student, naturally she had to check the No. 1 High School Forum. To her surprise, the top post was 【Zhu Lexing Long Jump Results】, a wild speculation thread.

The early comments were tame enough.

—Zhu Lexing—good luck!—

—Why’d the broadcast station read out a love confession?—

—Can you guys get a grip? It was just cheering her on!—

—Pfft! Can’t you cheer privately? Going public means it’s a confession! Fight me on it!—

It was eye-searingly cringy, but Zhu Lexing scrolled on. Deeper in, the thread devolved into a full-blown betting pool.

—I bet two sets of practice tests that Yan Mian’s confessing.

—Five sets.

—Ten.

—ROFL, why’d Miss go straight to fifty sets?

—233333

Zhu Lexing: “…”

She decided the world was beyond saving.

No wonder there weren’t any romance stories around. They were already this “romance-brained” without them. Once those pink bubbles poisoned their minds, half the school would end up in intensive care.

But then her eyes snagged on a fresh username.

…Why Miss?

Zhu Lexing arched a brow, scrolled further, pieced it together, and burst into giggles.

Qiao Qiao stood beside her, eyes scanning the lineup of competitors as she pondered who had penned yesterday’s broadcast submission.

Zhu Lexing spoke up abruptly. “You ever jumped far? Why?”

Qiao Qiao missed it the first time. Zhu Lexing repeated herself, and Qiao Qiao blinked in confusion. “Never jumped far, so why? If I haven’t, I haven’t.”

Xu He had caught on by then. She blew softly on her kazoo. “Qiao Qiao, you’re dense. She’s calling you Miss.”

Qiao Qiao: “…………”

Truth be told, Zhu Lexing had never actually long jumped before. Yesterday, she’d drilled it for half the afternoon on the sports field with the others and felt pretty confident—until her chat with Yan Mian threw her off.

To steady her nerves, she’d switched to practicing in her room.

Her confidence took a nosedive, and she nearly wrecked her bed in the process.

Zhu Lexing steeled herself, mulled it over half the night, and tried a new tactic.

【At least keep me from dead last.】 She intoned gravely. 【Otherwise, System, your Host won’t live to see tomorrow’s sunrise!】

If she couldn’t fix it herself, she’d bully the System. Misery loves company—devious, but fair.

When her turn actually came and she had to sprint and leap, though, it didn’t seem so bad.

It was just a competition. Participation was what counted. Dead last? Whatever. Fun was the goal!

Over in the Broadcast Station.

Yan Mian sipped her warm water, listening to Senior Sister’s gentle voice reading the next script. She glanced out the window.

The sun shone bright and cheerful. The long jump event should be underway by now.

…Where was Zhu Lexing?

She wasn’t jumping just a dozen centimeters or something, was she?

The thought made Yan Mian pinch the bridge of her nose to stifle a laugh. She was debating a covert peek when Senior Sister finished the current submission and loaded the next one.

She muted the mic first and let out a “Wow—” toward Yan Mian.

Yan Mian blinked, baffled.

The next second, she heard the other girl read out with great enthusiasm: “Wishing good health to Yan Mian from Sophomore Class 7! May all your wishes come true! Submitted by: Anonymous.”

Yan Mian looked at the crooked, ugly handwriting on the paper. She paused for a few seconds but couldn’t hold back her laughter.

Senior Sister clicked her tongue in wonder. “This made you laugh? If it’s from an admirer, with handwriting this bad, their grades must be terrible—”

Yan Mian stared at it for a few more seconds, hesitating before replying, “Well… it’s not that bad.”

Senior Sister blinked, flashing a playful smile. “You know them, don’t you, Mianmian?”

Even though they’d only known each other for a few days, Senior Sister and Yan Mian had already developed a pretty good rapport.

She immediately pulled over a chair and scooted closer to Yan Mian, whispering, “Is it someone chasing you? From your class? Are they good-looking?”

Yan Mian: “…Why don’t you ask about their grades?”

Senior Sister: “With handwriting this… um! They might be good-looking anyway. Isn’t everyone in Flying Class like that?”

Yan Mian caught her implication. Senior Sister probably didn’t interact much with people from Flying Class and assumed they were all playboys who didn’t study. But at least the Xu He and Qiao Qiao that Yan Mian knew had nice handwriting—they’d practiced it deliberately.

So, handwriting this ugly… in all this time, Yan Mian had only seen it from one person.

Zhu Lexing, a few months ago.

Senior Sister seemed about to say more, but someone nudged her with a script. She snapped back to attention and flipped through it. Once Yan Mian confirmed she wasn’t needed, she turned to gaze out the window.

A few minutes later, she headed downstairs.

The warm sun shone gently, and the javelin event had already begun sometime earlier.

The long jump competition had ended. Zhu Lexing stood on the awards podium as the cameraman said to her, “Say cheese—”

She flashed a thumbs-up.

The cameraman snapped a photo. “Thumbs-up!”

She switched to a “Yay!”

The medal bar stuck out prominently.

Yet everyone else started copying her, turning the whole thing into a surprisingly harmonious scene.

After stepping down from the podium, Zhu Lexing was still a bit dazed. She picked up the medal—a silver one, of course not made of actual silver. It wasn’t high-quality enough for that; it was heavy from the sheer weight of the metal. It wasn’t particularly exquisite, but it still made her feel the literal weight of second place.

This seemed to be the first time she’d ever won an award from any kind of event. It reminded her of all those motivational quotes she’d seen before.

Recalling the cheers from below the stage earlier, Zhu Lexing let out a breath.

She scratched her head, intending to go pester Qiao Qiao, when she ran straight into Zhu Xing. He didn’t know how long he’d been watching, but he was thrilled and had even dragged the cameraman over. “Zhu! Excellent! Outstanding! Look at the camera—let’s take a couple more shots!”

Zhu Lexing: “…………”

Don’t come over!

But she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Under the lens, she reluctantly threw up a “Yay!”

Once the cameraman left, Zhu Xing said earnestly, “Zhu, I’ve seen the changes in you lately, and I’m happy for you.”

Zhu Lexing felt a contrarian urge bubbling up—Happy for what? Isn’t it a bit early to be happy?

But facing his relieved expression, she couldn’t help bragging a little. “Yeah! It’s just the long jump. No big deal.”

Zhu Xing lit up even more. “Speaking of which, no one from our class signed up for the three-thousand-meter. You…”

Zhu Lexing: ?

Now you’re really celebrating too soon!

Before she could respond, a student from another class called Zhu Xing away. Not forgetting to praise her a couple more times as he left.

Zhu Lexing decided people’s greatest hobby was indeed pushing their luck.

She wiped her sweat, and a girl from another class handed her a bottle of water.

Zhu Lexing was a little overwhelmed, feeling like she could write a “campus heartthrob” story now.

Qiao Qiao happened to pass by. Zhu Lexing grabbed her clothes. “Hey! I won an award—don’t you have anything to say?”

Qiao Qiao: “…Like what? Go find the person who submitted that broadcast message for you—Yan Mian.”

Zhu Lexing choked. “Weren’t you taking photos earlier? Give me one.”

Qiao Qiao muttered, “You even noticed that?”

She pulled out the Polaroid.

Zhu Lexing grabbed the neutral pen from earlier and scrawled her signature with wild flair.

“No need to thank me,” Zhu Lexing said. “A signature from your future big star—keep it safe.”

Qiao Qiao thought Zhu Lexing was a bit too hyped up today.

But since she was rarely this excited, Qiao Qiao didn’t bother saying anything. After finally fending her off, just as Zhu Lexing started tormenting Song Yingying, Qiao Qiao turned and spotted Yan Mian.

Whoa.

She sighed expressionlessly and walked over. “When did you get here?”

Yan Mian replied, “Just now.”

Without specifying how “just.”

Qiao Qiao eyed her for a few seconds. “That script from the Broadcast Station… you wrote it?”

Yan Mian: “Nope.”

Question and answer, like a calm robot.

Yan Mian hadn’t caught their earlier exchange and asked blankly, “What’re you doing?”

The next second, a photo appeared in her hand.

Zhu Lexing’s name signed in wild, flamboyant strokes.

Qiao Qiao said, “One for each of you. When you two blow up, I’ll sell them as secondhand autographs.”

Yan Mian: “…Sell to who?”

Qiao Qiao: “CP Fans.”

Zhu Lexing turned just in time to see Qiao Qiao talking to Yan Mian. Her heart skipped a beat, but Qiao Qiao didn’t say anything more to Yan Mian. She just waved and headed off to Xu He’s side. Zhu Lexing figured she had some sense.

The next moment, she noticed Yan Mian’s gaze landing on her.

Zhu Lexing: “…”

Come back, hero Qiao Qiao.

Zhu Lexing braced herself to say hi, but after hesitating for a few seconds, Yan Mian took the initiative and walked toward her.

Zhu Lexing felt the cheers around them swell even louder. Plenty of people even started snapping photos without turning on the flash.

Yan Mian noticed the overly fervent stares from the others too.

Even though she felt puzzled, Yan Mian didn’t dwell on it. She simply turned to Zhu Lexing and said, “Congratulations.”

Zhu Lexing had heard those same two words countless times from others.

But coming from Yan Mian’s lips, they filled her with an unexpected thrill.

Zhu Lexing replied earnestly, “Thank you.”

Yan Mian said, “Then I’ll head back to the broadcast station.”

Zhu Lexing hadn’t imagined that Yan Mian had come all this way just to say that one sentence.

She parted her lips, searching for words, when a scream erupted from the audience seats: “Xingxing Mianmian, look at the camera—”

Both girls instinctively turned toward the voice.

Flashbulbs popped. That very day, the [XM Gets It] post on the forum went viral. The header image captured the sports field, with a boisterous crowd and grassy expanse in the background. Two girls in school uniforms stood side by side—one looking mildly surprised, the other flashing an instinctive little smile. The shot was stunningly picturesque, the vibe perfectly harmonious.

In the first reply, Chocolate Everyone Loves to Eat dropped just four words, racking up a thousand likes in a single day.

—Match Made in Heaven