Hopeless Romance (GL) - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Perhaps Jiang Xinwan’s relentless prayers worked, because Thursday turned out to be a rare clear day, accompanied by a gentle breeze—autumn at its finest. It wasn’t until the opening ceremony that Jiang Zhouchi’s leader outfit was finally revealed. It was actually just a standard tennis set: a white short-sleeved top and a white pleated skirt. With her long, well-proportioned legs and upright posture, paired with orange canvas shoes that perfectly matched her orange headband, she radiated an undeniable aura of youth and confidence. She was the living embodiment of “high spirits.” The gaze of every boy and girl was drawn to her; Wang Zhu couldn’t help but remark that if she were a boy, she would definitely fall for Jiang Zhouchi—a sentiment highly endorsed by Jiang Xinwan, and met with complex expressions from Chen Pupu and Ye Du.

The atmosphere of a day without classes is always light. Like magicians, everyone pulled snacks, game consoles, and colorful romance novels out of backpacks usually stuffed with knowledge. With weather this gentle, everything felt perfect; to not be happy would have been a waste. Jiang Xinwan, with her extensive snacking experience, took on the responsibility of being the “snack purveyor,” vowing to provide the best culinary experience. Chen Pupu was in charge of the camera, intending to capture everyone’s most embarrassing moments during their events to print and gift them later. Wang Zhu brought several cherished copies of Huahuo and Aige magazines. As for Ye Du, she brought a pair of binoculars—her only entertainment device. While Jiang Xinwan initially poked fun at her, she quickly realized a brilliant use for them: scouting for handsome guys. Specifically, Pei Lang, whose fame had spread from the eighth grade down to the seventh. With his looks and his unmatched skill in racing, his popularity on the school forums was sky-high. Usually, people only caught glimpses of him during the chaos after assemblies, but with fixed seating at the sports meet, Wang Zhu and Jiang Xinwan were not going to miss this chance for a “precise viewing.”

In the morning, only Chen Pupu had the relay race. Qin Zibei ran the first leg, and after finishing, he immediately began organizing a makeshift cheerleading squad. He repeatedly emphasized to the upcoming runners not to drop the baton and thanked everyone who ran past for their hard work. Since Ye Du had a long-distance race later, she didn’t join the relay. Standing there waiting for Pupu, her attention drifted to Qin Zibei. She wondered how a thirteen-year-old boy could naturally act like an adult, taking care of everyone’s feelings while placing his own needs so far behind. Running before Chen Pupu was Jiang Zhouchi; she didn’t run very fast, but she was light and graceful, drawing cheers more thunderous than any actual sprint. Qin Zibei’s hand almost landed on Jiang Zhouchi’s shoulder to offer encouragement but stopped; facing such a striking girl, he felt it more appropriate to maintain some distance. His hand dropped as Zhouchi was led away by other classmates to rest, and he turned his focus back to the track for the next runner.

When Chen Pupu finally ran over, the momentum of her sudden acceleration created a massive force. Despite her small frame, she slammed into Ye Du with full impact. In that moment, Ye Du slightly regretted letting Wang Zhu and Jiang Xinwan go to the high jump area to look for Pei Lang; after all, “strength in numbers” might have kept her from stumbling backward. The short fifty meters seemed to drain all of Pupu’s energy. Even after resting for a while, she couldn’t quite recover and had to be supported back to the stands by Ye Du.

Regarding sports, Chen Pupu decided she was much better suited to being a spectator. As the 100m finals began, she started reflecting on what she had been thinking about while running. At first, she thought about running faster and not dropping the baton or falling. Then, she started wondering why fifty meters felt so long and why Ye Du still seemed so far away. Her final worry, she remembered, was how on earth Ye Du would manage the much longer 800-meter race.

Chen Pupu decided not to go watch Wang Zhu’s triple jump or Jiang Xinwan’s shot put. After all, those two had been “blinded by beauty” all morning. They had promised to stay together, but for the sake of a handsome guy—one they needed binoculars to even see clearly—they had abandoned her, leaving only Ye Du. To soothe Pupu’s grumbles, Wang Zhu immediately pulled out her favorite edition of Huahuo and handed it to her. A satisfied Jiang Xinwan went even further, heroically promising that the rest of the snacks in her bag now belonged to Pupu. Ye Du, meanwhile, was happily taking photos with her camera. She felt the current scene was just as exciting as Wang Zhu accidentally landing on her backside in the sandpit or Jiang Xinwan nearly throwing herself out of the circle with the shot put.

From her expression, Chen Pupu seemed much better, though she didn’t take their offerings yet. Instead, she sat next to Ye Du to look through the candid photos. Besides the athletes’ poses, Ye Du had taken many photos of quiet corners of the campus. Usually, they were just walking through it; having such a high vantage point revealed a different kind of beauty. Though it was Ye Du’s first time using a camera, Pupu thought the photos were beautiful, especially the portraits. “I think you make me look better than I actually do,” Pupu said shyly after seeing a few photos of herself.

Ye Du shifted over one seat and looked closely at Pupu’s face. Although they saw each other every day, Ye Du had rarely examined her this carefully. Lines from the Classic of Poetry—“Her hands are like soft sprouts, her skin like frozen lard… A sweet smile and beautiful eyes”—suddenly surfaced in her mind. This was exactly what the book described. The wind ruffled the stray hairs on Pupu’s forehead, fully revealing her smile. It felt like a gentle tug on her heartstrings. Restraining a slight flutter of agitation, Ye Du replied, “You were already very pretty.” It was a different kind of beauty than Jiang Zhouchi’s; it was a gentle, approachable loveliness.

The time came, and Wang Zhu and Jiang Xinwan checked in with Ye Du before heading to their events. Ye Du, who had been engrossed in the special edition of Huahuo, put the story aside to wait for Pupu to return from the restroom. When the timing felt right, she packed up the book and snacks, left them on the bleacher seats, adjusted her camera settings, and headed toward the track. She ran into Chen Pupu just as she was descending from the stands.

“Let’s go, the triple jump starts first,” Ye Du said, having grabbed a detailed schedule from Qin Zibei.

“I’m not going. I said I wasn’t going,” Pupu said, her fake anger far too obvious.

“Alright, alright, I’m the one forcing you to go. You don’t want to go at all,” Ye Du suppressed a smile and took Pupu’s hand, tilting her head toward the jump area to ask for consent. Pupu didn’t move. Checking the time, Ye Du took a step closer to her, leaned down slightly, and said softly, “If we don’t go now, we’ll miss it.”

Consequently, that copy of Huahuo and the pile of snacks naturally became Ye Du’s “spoils.”

However, the good times didn’t last. When Ye Du stood on the track with her number pinned on for the 800m, she still felt a sense of unreality. It wasn’t until she looked at the crowds in the inner field cheering for their friends that she realized this was indeed a competition.

When the starting pistol fired, Ye Du tensed up; she was always startled by sudden loud noises. That momentary lapse put her a step behind everyone else. Shaking it off, she chased after them; she couldn’t afford to lose her rhythm at the start. Just past the first bend, she heard a familiar voice on her left. As it got closer, she recognized Jiang Xinwan, who was running alongside her to keep pace and offer encouragement. Near the end of the first lap, Xinwan suddenly accelerated, trying to pull Ye Du into a better position. But Ye Du had her own plan; she knew she couldn’t burn her energy too early. She had to wait for the final sprint. During the second lap, her “pacer” became Wang Zhu. Already exhausted from the triple jump, Wang Zhu had no intention of outrunning Ye Du, but her cheering never stopped. After half a lap, the runners near Ye Du were so annoyed by the constant shouting that they had to glare at Wang Zhu—perhaps it was a psychological tactic.

With the final quarter-lap remaining, Ye Du decided to accelerate. There were five people ahead. To finish first, she had to overtake them one by one from the right. She was nearly out of strength; this was much harder than her usual “venting” runs because she couldn’t just choose to stop. Over the years, she had grown accustomed to being competitive. Though she tried to appear calm, she knew she couldn’t stand failure if she hadn’t given her all. In her eyes, no pain was worse than the pain of losing. At that moment, Ye Du realized with a shock how much she resembled Ye Sangshu—she had successfully become exactly what her mother expected.

As she moved into third place, Ye Du felt her willpower draining away. She wanted to give up, to just stop right there. She thought: It’s just an insignificant school race. Winning changes nothing, and losing isn’t a heavy burden.

“Ye Du, keep going! You’re almost there! I’m waiting for you at the finish line!” Chen Pupu appeared beside her for the final fifty meters, running as fast as she could toward the tape. Thinking back to her relay earlier that morning, Pupu realized that the meaning of running might not be the finish line itself, but what is waiting there for you—allowing you to close your eyes and settle into a state of peace after an exhausting journey. Just as Ye Du had stood there for her, Pupu was standing here now.

Ye Du didn’t finish first; she was less than a second behind the lead girl. Before crashing into Pupu’s arms, she had to force herself to slow down. Knowing who was in front of her, she allowed herself to go limp. Pupu wanted to walk her around to cool down, but Ye Du had no energy left. She lay across Pupu’s lap, her sweat soaking through her uniform. The post-exercise discomfort made her irritable, but Pupu held her hand, offering silent companionship and comfort while they waited for Wang Zhu to bring tissues and Jiang Xinwan to fetch glucose water from the infirmary.

This scene would be used by Jiang Xinwan to tease Ye Du for a long time. She knew Ye Du was brave, but she also wanted Ye Du to understand that it was okay to be fragile.