The Scrutiny and the Surge of Memory

Jiang Chen took in their slightly awkward interaction, his gaze lingering for half a second on the persistently waiting girl. He then turned to Han Yan, offering an inquiring look. “What’s going on?”

Han Yan raised a hand, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel before replacing his glasses. He offered Jiang Chen a helpless, bitter smile, one that spoke volumes yet remained unspoken.

The sun shone brightly as Zhou Yi approached, a radiant smile on his face, a package in his hand.

Spotting Han Yan, he immediately clapped him on the arm. “Alright, Han Yan! You’ve been hiding your true strength! That speed of yours, you must have put five meters between yourself and Bai Erming just now, right? So cool!”

A faint smile touched Han Yan’s usually cool features as he raised a hand to fist-bump Zhou Yi. “Luck. How are your preparations for the 400-meter dash coming along?”

“That’s absolutely no problem!” Zhou Yi declared, patting his chest with a carefree air. “Just watch us…” The instant his hand landed, a strange, dull ache flared in his chest. His expression flickered, but he quickly masked it by bending to set down the package.

“How we’ll secure the win!” By the time he straightened, his face had already resumed its carefree smile. ‘Most likely that bump with Xiao Ju just now got to you,’ he grumbled inwardly.

Han Yan finally chuckled. “Alright, I’ll be watching your performance.”

Just then, an inexplicable sensation of unease shot up Zhou Yi’s spine, coiling around the back of his neck.

‘It feels a bit… cold,’ he mused.

Following the sensation, his gaze drifted to his side and slightly behind him. There, he instantly spotted the girl in the volunteer vest, scrutinizing him intently.

The moment their eyes met, the girl visibly froze before swiftly averting her gaze to the other side of the track, leaving only a rigid profile.

Zhou Yi shook his head, a slight bewilderment clouding his thoughts.

‘Was he seeing things?’ he wondered. ‘That gaze just now didn’t seem like a casual glance from someone passing by. Instead, it was like it carried some kind of… hostility?’

He frowned, a nagging feeling telling him something was amiss. He casually exchanged a few more words with Han Yan, and in the lull of their conversation, he subtly snuck another glance in that direction.

This time, he clearly saw the girl’s face.

He nearly gasped aloud.

‘How could it be her?!’

‘Isn’t this the very girl he and Jiang Chen rescued in the simulator, on that bus, the one harassed by the greasy-haired uncle and left trembling with fear?!’

‘…Does it really have to be such a coincidence?’

First Xiao Ju today, and now her. These individuals, whom he’d believed existed only within the simulator or as fleeting chance encounters, were now reappearing in reality, one after another.

Memories surged uncontrollably once more, instantly dragging him back to that swaying bus.

He could almost hear the cacophony of human voices, the station announcements, and the sudden gasps that erupted from the emergency brake.

His vision swayed amidst the chaos, and he saw Jiang Chen once more.

As the bus braked abruptly, Jiang Chen unhesitatingly extended his arm, shielding her from the surging crowd and holding her securely against his chest.

The body warmth radiating through his clothes, the close scent of mint, and in that cramped space, the nearly chaotic… heartbeat.

“Zhou Yi.” Jiang Chen’s voice pulled him from his chaotic thoughts back to reality. “It’s time to warm up.”

That single call abruptly yanked him back from the jumble of his memories.

“Ah? Oh!” Zhou Yi snapped back to attention, quickly responding.

He almost fled, averting his gaze, unable to comprehend why he, in perfect health, would suddenly flash back to that… unsettling scene.

He hurried to follow Jiang Chen’s steps towards the check-in area, yet he could still distinctly feel that scrutinizing gaze re-entwining itself around his back.

‘Damn it,’ he thought.

He frantically scoured the depths of his mind, certain that beyond that one bus rescue in the simulator, he had never seen, nor offended, this particular girl.

‘How is he here?’

“Your complexion isn’t looking too good,” Jiang Chen remarked, glancing at him. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“No,” Zhou Yi replied, forcing a rather unnatural smile. “It’s just… the sun’s too intense today, a bit dazzling.”

Jiang Chen didn’t press further, merely casting another glance his way.

The referee had already raised the starting gun, and the clamor along the track abruptly hushed. Only the whisper of the wind and the rhythmic thud of heartbeats tapped in their ears.

Zhou Yi took his position in the first leg’s relay zone, performing a few small hops in place and vigorously flexing his wrists and ankles.

Yet, the dull ache in his chest resurfaced unseasonably at that moment. Adrenaline, however, was already surging, forcefully suppressing the pain.

Ahead, his teammate for the first leg was already in position.

“Bang!”

The starting gun cracked!

The track instantly ignited with a burst of energy.

Zhou Yi’s gaze locked onto the rapidly approaching figure. His body leaned slightly forward, his arm extended backward, his palms slick with sweat.

‘Steady, steady, steady…’

Here it comes!

He received the baton precisely, and then, a powerful start!

Just two steps into his sprint, the dull ache he had forcefully suppressed surged violently once more. His breath hitched, his steps nearly faltering, but he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to maintain his rhythm.

‘Tsk… I can’t mess up now,’ he thought.

Ahead, Jiang Chen, running the third leg, had already entered his field of vision.

Zhou Yi gritted his teeth and accelerated, desperately closing the distance in the final few strides. He let out a low growl.

“Chen Ge—”

The white line of the relay zone drew closer.

Now! He poured all his strength into passing the baton.

Jiang Chen’s arm reached back, receiving the baton with unwavering precision.

“Snap.”

The third leg of the relay began.

Zhou Yi stumbled forward a few more steps, carried by inertia. Lacking the power to sprint further, he slowly made his way to the outer edge of the track, wiping the tip of his nose as he gasped for air. Sweat dripped from his jaw onto the synthetic ground, blooming into dark, circular stains.

The dull ache in his chest did not subside with the end of the sprint; it continued to throb faintly.

Lately, he truly seemed cursed with misfortune. The cramping in his lower abdomen had only just receded, and now his chest was acting up again.

This couldn’t continue. Zhou Yi felt that if he didn’t make time for a hospital visit soon, he truly wouldn’t be able to endure it. He lifted his head, his vision somewhat blurry, tracking the figure sprinting at full speed down the track.

Jiang Chen’s mind, however, was a maelstrom of thoughts. In the brief instant the baton was passed, their fingers had intertwined.

In that fleeting touch, a subtle, electric sensation shot through Jiang Chen’s fingertips without warning, surging straight to his head. The depths of his mind, previously almost blank with intense focus, were violently cleaved open by this sudden current.

Something deeper exploded within his consciousness. Countless fragmented images, bathed in blinding white light, flashed and spun wildly before his eyes, like snowflakes caught in a gale.

[“‘Campus Skill Mutual Aid Platform’, Zhou Yi, Jiang Chen, Li Yanze team! Congratulations!”]

Applause surged like a tide from all directions.

He saw the figure beside him, clutching a trophy, smiling so widely their eyes curved into crescent moons.

That figure seemed to sense his gaze, looking up to offer him a radiant smile. The bright, smiling face, illuminated by the spotlights, radiated brilliance, yet remained tantalizingly blurry.

The memory fragments continued to churn: the dimly lit backstage area, and the slender figure excitedly packing a laptop bag.

“Zhou Yi.”

“Hmm?” The girl turned around at the sound.