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The screams and cheers of the girls on the field continued unabated.

After that particular announcement, there was a brief pause as everyone turned their heads to see where the voice had come from.

The small table set up by the broadcasting station finally came into everyone’s view, with Le Ya still holding a slip of paper in her hand.

So she was reading out notes.

This setup was something the students were familiar with, but in previous years, no one dared to write such explicit messages—after all, they were still students.

This year marked the first time.

The boys, always eager for drama, immediately began to hoot and whistle. Originally, most of the senior three students didn’t even know who Chen Yang was, but now everyone crowded around the track.

Though no one knew who wrote the notes, it was a girl reading them aloud, making it sound like she was the one who penned them.

What was initially thought to be a minor incident quickly escalated when, before they could turn away, the second note came through.

Although Le Ya appeared calm on the surface, she was inwardly quite nervous.

She read: “To Chen Yang of Class Seventeen, Senior Three—I made a mistake in my previous note. You are the handsomest man in this entire school. You’re the best today, and you’ll continue to be in the future.”

Then, under her breath, she added softly, “Keep going.”

Her steady yet gentle voice echoed through the broadcast speakers.

One exaggerated message might have been dismissed as a fluke, but two consecutive ones? It was hard to believe they weren’t deliberate.

However, since Le Ya was merely reading the slips, few people suspected her involvement.

Whispers began to spread among the students gathered at the edge of the field.

“Oh my god, I never realized the broadcast system could be used like this! I’ve wasted three whole years!”

“This is insane. Just look at those girls over there—they’re all writing notes now!”

“Chen Yang is so lucky.”

“There’s only one lap left, and the results will be announced soon. Wow, I can’t wait to see who wins!”

“How can Chen Yang not come in first after such a confession?”

By now, the area around the broadcasting station had been overrun by girls.

Many of them hadn’t brought pens or paper initially, but they sprinted back to retrieve some. They crouched on the ground, leaned on classmates’ backs, or even balanced on their knees as they scribbled furiously.

In no time, the table was once again piled high with slips of paper.

Taking advantage of a quick water break, Le Ya pushed aside the bespectacled boy’s notes and firmly declined. “I’m not reading yours anymore.”

The bespectacled boy protested, “Why not? Are you discriminating against me?”

Le Ya was momentarily stumped by his question but shook her head resolutely. “Nope, I’m not reading any of yours, no matter what you say.”

She quickly pulled another slip from the pile.

Seeing her resolve, the bespectacled boy sighed in disappointment, realizing she wasn’t going to budge. He eventually left.

To be honest, even he couldn’t blame her for refusing to read them.

Each class had its designated viewing area, marked by two tables at the front displaying their respective class signs. Behind them, chairs were arranged in long rows.

Few students were willing to brave the afternoon sun, opting instead to study in classrooms, nap, or wander around campus.

Liang Qian and Zhao Mingri sat perched atop the front tables, clutching bottles of mineral water, laughing so hard they could barely catch their breath.

“She really read them!”

Wiping away tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes, Liang Qian exclaimed, “Oh no, Yang-ge’s going to get pumped up now.”

The final lap was always about sprinting. While some runners struggled to control their facial expressions, Chen Yang remained composed.

Those behind him could barely keep up, let alone surpass him. Watching his receding figure, frustration welled up within them.

How could anyone run so fast—it was like he was flying!

The girls nearby were flushed with excitement.

Meanwhile, the broadcast switched to congratulatory messages and well-wishes for other classes, devoid of the earlier dramatic flair.

Zhao Mingri sighed. “I remember you wrote several notes. Why did she only read two? What happened to the rest?”

Liang Qian grinned. “She’s not stupid, you know.”

He had mentally prepared for only one of his notes to be read, so he’d emphasized the most important one. To his surprise, two were read consecutively, which made it even more impactful.

Just as they were talking, the bespectacled boy returned.

He handed the remaining notes to Liang Qian. “She refused to read these, no matter what. So I brought them back. I also retrieved the two that were read.”

Liang Qian accepted them with a cheerful grin. “Thanks.”

Suddenly, a surge of screams erupted from the front. Without even looking, he knew the race had ended—and Chen Yang had won first place.

Flipping through the notes, he stumbled upon the two most crucial ones that had been read. Realization dawned on him, and his eyes widened in shock.

Slapping his thigh, he exclaimed, “Damn!”

It was exhilarating.

Over at the judges’ table, scores were being recorded.

Chen Yang had already returned to Class Seventeen’s area. Girls approached him offering water, but he ignored them all.

When he reached Class Seventeen’s spot, Liang Qian tossed him a bottle.

Chen Yang tilted his head back and drank nearly half of it in one go, his Adam’s apple bobbing as sweat dripped down the side of his face. The sight left some spectators feeling dizzy.

He was undeniably sexy.

After screwing the cap back on, Chen Yang asked, “Did you guys arrange that?”

Liang Qian feigned innocence. “What do you mean?”

Chen Yang shot him a look. “Don’t play dumb.”

Liang Qian scratched his head, unable to suppress a laugh. “Hahahaha, yeah, how was it? Wasn’t it fun? Le Ya read two of them!”

He had racked his brains trying to come up with the perfect content, and hearing the outcome now felt pretty satisfying.

It was thrilling, especially during such a critical moment.

Zhao Mingri chimed in, grinning. “Yang-ge, how does it feel? Do you feel extra motivated, like you’re about to fly?”

Chen Yang glanced at him. “You think I’m ascending to heaven?”

He sat down on a chair, running his fingers through his hair. His already messy black locks became even more disheveled, adding an air of effortless charm.

Liang Qian chuckled mischievously.

Though he had expected to win first place, the added significance of the situation made him feel particularly alive. He was fully aware of what was happening.

Zhao Mingri playfully punched his chest. “You’re grinning like an idiot.”

On the field, the 4×100-meter relay race was underway, with cheers erupting all around. Their class also had four boys participating.

Liang Qian cheered them on for a bit before suddenly remembering something. Turning back, he said with a sly grin, “Yang-ge, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Chen Yang casually replied, “Hmm?”

Liang Qian rummaged in his pocket and pulled out the slips of paper he’d stashed earlier. He extracted one and handed it to Chen Yang.

Chen Yang glanced up and took it.

The content matched what he had heard earlier—nothing unusual…

Except there was something different.

Seeing Chen Yang scrutinizing it, Liang Qian knew he must have noticed. “Yang-ge, your little cutie is so adorable, hahaha.”

Chen Yang crumpled the note into a ball.

His school uniform jacket was right there on the table—it had been washed and returned by Le Ya last time. Chen Yang picked it up and loosely tied it around his waist.

He grabbed his half-empty water bottle, stood up, and walked straight toward the exit.

________________________________________

At the broadcasting station’s table, the shift was changing.

The relay race had just ended, and it was now time for the announcement of athletes for another event. Thus, they no longer needed to read out notes.

Su Hui had returned. “Le Ya, thank you so much!”

Le Ya stood off to the side and smiled softly. “What are you thanking me for? It was only for a little while. Is your throat feeling better?”

Su Hui replied, “I feel much better after resting for a bit.”

Since the note-reading had stopped, many of the onlookers had dispersed. She glanced at Su Cheng, who was idly looking at his phone, and whispered, “He didn’t give you a hard time, did he?”

Le Ya shook her head. “No, why do you ask?”

Su Hui waved her hand dismissively. “Never mind, never mind.”

Unexpectedly, Su Cheng looked up and asked coolly, “Su Hui, what kind of person do you think I am?”

Su Hui quickly denied it. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

Su Cheng didn’t press further. He reached into the desk drawer, pulled out a jar of dried flower tea, and meticulously poured hot water over it.

Le Ya couldn’t help but marvel at how refined this boy was.

As she watched him prepare the tea, Su Hui fished a pack of throat lozenges from her pocket, placed it on the table, and pushed it toward him. Then, pretending nothing happened, she turned her head and asked nonchalantly, “Le Ya, what was that all about earlier? You scared me!”

Le Ya was still watching Su Cheng handle the candy, feeling awkward about their interaction—and the fact that they shared the same surname.

Snapping out of her thoughts, she replied, “It was just stuff other people wrote. I only read it aloud—I don’t know what happened.”

Su Hui patted her chest dramatically and leaned on the table. “I was so startled when I heard it. I thought you wrote those messages!”

Le Ya protested, “How could I possibly write something like that?”

She felt a twinge of guilt—she had added two extra words at the end of the broadcast. But aside from the boy who handed her the notes, no one else likely knew.

Su Hui laughed. “True, true, hahaha.”

In her memory, the well-behaved girl would never write such bold confessions. Even she herself wouldn’t dare. Probably only someone like Yu Jiu would.

Not long after, a new race began.

Su Cheng reminded them, “Stop fooling around.”

Su Hui reined in her laughter, stuck her tongue out at him playfully, then sat up straight. “Le Ya, I’ll come find you later after I’m done.”

Le Ya nodded. “Okay.”

She planned to go watch the races on the field anyway. The noise here drowned out everything else, making it impossible to hear any results.

As she turned the corner, she nearly collided head-on with someone.

Startled, Le Ya quickly stopped in her tracks. Looking up, she saw Chen Yang standing before her, gazing down at her indifferently.

Coming face-to-face with the subject of the confession notes made her feel oddly guilty.

Though she hadn’t written them, reading them aloud still left her feeling somewhat embarrassed—especially since she’d read two consecutive ones.

Le Ya stepped slightly to the left, but he blocked her path. She moved to the right, and again, he blocked her. Clearly, he was doing it on purpose.

She glanced around nervously. Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed yet. “Are you deliberately blocking my way?”

Chen Yang replied simply, “Yes, I’m blocking you.”

Le Ya couldn’t help but protest. “I didn’t do anything to you today!”

Chen Yang smirked, his disheveled bangs fluttering in the breeze. “Have you already forgotten what you did?”

Le Ya immediately thought of the broadcast.

Guiltily, she explained, “Those were notes written by others. I was just reading them aloud—you shouldn’t take them seriously.”

Chen Yang leaned casually against the nearby wall.

Le Ya didn’t continue speaking. She wanted to leave but felt it might seem rude, so she stayed put, waiting for him to say something.

Chen Yang stared at her intently, his right hand still holding the half-drunk mineral water bottle, which was now slightly dented.

With his body relaxed in a semi-slouched position, his legs appeared especially long.

Fortunately, Le Ya was tall enough to meet his gaze directly. Not receiving an answer, she repeated, “Did you hear what I just said?”

Perhaps it was the intense sun, but today she had unzipped her school uniform halfway down, revealing a pink top underneath and the subtle curve of her figure.

She looked rather cute.

Chen Yang’s eyes darkened noticeably.

Realizing how obvious her actions were, Le Ya hastily zipped up her uniform and snapped irritably, “Chen Yang!”

Chen Yang asked in a low voice, “What?”

Hearing his deliberate tone, Le Ya felt even more certain that he was utterly insufferable.

Fuming, she accused, “Where exactly were you looking just now?”

Chen Yang paused, using the water bottle to prop up his chin as he tilted his head slightly upward to look at her. “Guess where I was looking.”

Infuriated, Le Ya shoved him.

This time, she actually managed to push him, causing him to slide down the wall and sit on the ground. He rubbed his chest theatrically and remarked, “Wow, you’re so strong.”

Le Ya frowned.

She didn’t believe she was particularly strong—his reaction was clearly intentional. He was mocking her.

Her face flushed red. “You’re shamelessly taking advantage of me!”

Chen Yang sprawled lazily on the ground, stretching his legs near hers. Tipping his head back, he grinned teasingly. “I’m so tired.”

For the first time, Le Ya realized he could be quite mischievous.

But considering he had just finished running, she decided not to argue with him. Not wanting to engage further, she turned to leave.

The next moment, Chen Yang reached out and grabbed her wrist, gently pulling her forward. With the ground slick beneath her feet, she stumbled and fell onto him.

Le Ya gasped, “Chen Yang, you’re insane!”

Chen Yang chuckled. “You sure sound energetic when you yell at me.”

When he laughed, Le Ya could feel the vibrations of his chest against her ear, his heartbeat clear as day.

Though this corner was secluded, people from the field could still see them. They cast curious glances their way.

Le Ya tried to get up but was pressed back down.

After the second attempt, she finally lost her patience. Seeing someone glance over, she hissed, “Chen Yang, you’re crazy! What exactly do you want?”

Fearing she might provoke him, she softened her tone and pleaded, “Can’t you see everyone staring at us? Let me up—I won’t argue with you anymore.”

Feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, she was certain many people had seen them.

Chen Yang’s throat felt dry as he lowered his voice. “Tell me what you said earlier during the broadcast.”

Only the two of them could hear his words.

Le Ya replied, “Let me up first.”

Chen Yang hummed in agreement. “Say it, and then I’ll let you up.”

Having said so many things earlier, Le Ya had no idea which part he was referring to. She suspected he might be having another odd mood swing today.

Biting her lip, she pushed against him again—but still couldn’t budge him.

Clearly, his previous act of falling had been deliberate. He was playing games with her.

With so many people watching, Chen Yang noticed she was on the verge of tears. He grabbed his school uniform jacket from around his waist and draped it over her head.

Instantly plunged into darkness, Le Ya panicked, reaching out to pull it off. But he caught her hands.

Then, Chen Yang lifted the edge of the jacket slightly.

Underneath, it was pitch black. The girl was nestled in his arms, with faint light leaking in from his side. Her tear-filled eyes shimmered.

Chen Yang froze for a few seconds, then mischievously pressed down on her shoulders.

Le Ya reached up to pry his fingers loose, muttering angrily, “Chen Yang, you really…”

Mid-sentence, she ran out of words.

Her fiery indignation dissolved into something akin to pouting.

Chen Yang let her struggle, finding it increasingly amusing.

Le Ya gave up speaking and continued tugging at his hand. Finally, when her fingers brushed against his cool fingertips, she instinctively recoiled.

Her ears burned with embarrassment.

Seeing her fall silent and start squirming energetically, Chen Yang leaned closer to her lips and murmured mockingly:

“With all this movement, what do you think people outside assume we’re doing?”