The one reading the script was a Student Council girl, her voice lively, her enunciation deliberately imitating a broadcaster’s tone. She paused here, hesitated for a few seconds before continuing, “Thank you to the other long-distance runners for participating. Unfortunately, um, it’s a pity, and also quite helpless.”

When the upperclassman finished reading, the whole place fell silent.

Henry Howard stopped immediately when he heard “supporting role,” halting about a hundred meters from the finish line, striking a victor’s pose, and, in sync with Class Three’s broadcast, waved apologetically to the crowd.

Looks like he wants to show off again.

Anyway, Henry Howard was half a lap ahead of the second place, so Luke Carter and the others just played along with Henry Howard’s performance.

So the whole school watched as Henry Howard stopped before the finish line, hands on his knees, panting, his voice hoarse as he asked, “Who’s in first place?”

The Class Three students shouted, “—Henry Howard!”

“Louder?”

“Henry Howard!”

“”

Henry Howard was clearly deep in character, dragging the entire Class Three along with him, their morale soaring, confidence bordering on blind arrogance.

Ethan Young couldn’t bear to watch, lowered his head to edit a photo, adjusting the lighting on the one he’d just taken. When he looked up again, he saw the formidable long-distance rival from the neighboring class, taking advantage of Class Three’s wild antics, running faster and faster, quietly overtaking a certain drama king, and dashing straight for the finish line: “”

Class Three didn’t get first place, but they became famous in one battle, entering the history of Liyang No. 2 High’s sports meet in an unexpectedly awkward way.

Ethan Young glanced at the distance between his seat and the neighboring class, seriously considering whether to move his seat over a bit—he really couldn’t bear the embarrassment.

The Class Three homeroom teacher, however, took it in stride. Thomas Thompson smiled the whole time, “Interesting, young people, interesting.”

The ones who had played along best were now sitting with their faces buried in their knees, trying to hide.

“What’s so interesting,” Logan Wright said, clutching his head, “God, that was so embarrassing.”

Wanda’s muffled voice came out, “So awkward I can’t breathe.”

Luke Carter: “Stop talking, I’m already dead.”

Henry Howard went to the bathroom to wash his face. Sweating so much, he also rinsed his head with cold water, droplets running down his neck. When he came back, his collar was mostly wet. Henry Howard sat down and said, “Listen, this was an accident, my skills—”

Ethan Young tossed a bottle of mineral water into Henry Howard’s arms: “Skills at pulling stunts?”

Henry Howard took it, gulped down half the bottle, and said, “It really was an accident. I’m still strong, did you see how far ahead I was? I was practically leaving everyone in the dust.”

“Show-off king,” Ethan Young said, “can you shut up?”

Next was the teachers’ race.

Everyone was just there for the fun, since usually they only saw the teachers lecturing at the podium.

“This counts for class points too, right?” Henry Howard pinched the bottle cap, leaning toward Ethan Young, “If Old Tang can get first, maybe our class—” maybe there’s hope.

Ethan Young said, “Think about how Old Wu plays basketball, just as a reference.”

“” Henry Howard changed his tune, “Forget it, pretend I didn’t say anything.”

No one in Class Three had any unrealistic expectations for Thomas Thompson.

When the other teachers had finished the 400 meters, their Old Tang was only halfway through, and no one thought anything was wrong.

The awkwardness came and went quickly, especially since Henry Howard was already thick-skinned, leading the whole class into selective amnesia, and they started cheering for Old Tang again: “Go! Finishing is victory!”

In the end, Old Tang lived up to expectations and solidly took last place.

As school was about to end, all events were over.

Luke Carter stood up and shouted, ‘Everyone, make sure to clean up the trash around you,’ and Logan Wright reminded everyone to hand in their number tags and pins.

Around them was the sound of each class dragging chairs back to the classroom.

The word “dismissal” often gives people a strong sense of unreality. Ethan Young sat in his seat, watching as fewer and fewer people were around, more and more chairs being taken away.

It felt like the sports meet had just begun, or maybe it had never started at all.

In a daze, Henry Howard patted him on the back of the head.

“Let’s go, kid,” Henry Howard carried a chair in one hand, the other hand reaching out in front of him, “Let’s go back to the classroom.”

“Actually, our class did pretty well this time, probably third or fourth place,” Logan Wright said in the classroom while collecting the sports tags, “Hey, when I came back, the class rep from next door even teased me, said, ‘Isn’t this first place?’”

The sports meet was over, and now when they brought it up, everyone just wanted to laugh. No one knew who started it, but soon the whole class was going, “Goose, goose, goose, goose.”

Henry Howard couldn’t hold it in either, covering his face with one hand and leaning back, laughing for a long time.

Wanda had already started reminiscing about it in a “legend of the martial world” tone: “That scene, my god, I don’t even dare to think about it. I was so excited, I closed my eyes and howled ‘Bro Henry is first!’ Then when I opened my eyes, that guy from the next class had already crossed the finish line—”

Ethan Young stifled his laughter, head down copying homework, but his handwriting was a bit shaky.

Manager Jensen came over when he heard the noise, showing half his face at the window, his expression stern and his gaze sharp. Henry Howard reacted quickly, grabbing Ethan Young’s hand and pulling both his hand and the homework notebook down: “Mad dog.”

Mad Dog came in, circling the classroom several times: “I knew you lot couldn’t control yourselves. There’s a time to play and a time to settle down, but you have no self-control at all. Discipline, discipline issues—I’ve stressed it how many times? Are you all that happy? If you’re so happy, tell me about it, let me be happy too.”

Ethan Young’s homework and hand were both pressed under the desk by Henry Howard. Since the whole class was sitting up straight and still, and Mad Dog was nearby, Henry Howard couldn’t move for the moment.

Ethan Young’s palm pressed against the homework and the cold steel plate, but the back of his hand started to heat up.

Maybe it was because both their expressions were a bit unnatural, or maybe Mad Dog finally noticed the two students in the back row with their hands intertwined under the desk, not sure what they were doing.

Mad Dog stopped his lecture on discipline: “You two, what are you doing?”

Henry Howard—who knows what he was thinking—decided to cover for his deskmate copying homework, and brought their joined hands up onto the desk, saying in front of everyone, “We’re just holding hands.”

“”

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44. Chapter Forty-Four

After Henry Howard spoke, the classroom was dead silent.

Mad Dog had been in education for over ten years and had never encountered students like these. It was obvious there was something more going on than just holding hands, but he was so blinded by Henry Howard’s move that he forgot to check under the desk: “You two, fine, very good, holding hands, huh.”

Henry Howard moved his lips, maybe about to say something even more outrageous.

Ethan Young took the chance while Mad Dog wasn’t looking and stomped on Henry Howard’s foot. He didn’t hold back at all, and Henry Howard, in pain, gripped Ethan Young’s hand even tighter, hissing, “Limp kid, that harsh?”

Ethan Young said in a low voice, “If my foot wasn’t hurt, you wouldn’t even be here right now.”

Mad Dog didn’t catch what they were saying, he just saw the two boys’ hands not only not letting go, but gripping even tighter.

It was practically a provocation.

He felt his authority as discipline director was being challenged.

“Since you like holding hands so much, then keep holding them, hold them until class is over!”

Mad Dog’s chest heaved, furious at the two of them, trying to regain his authority. After speaking, he turned to the rest of the class: “You all supervise them. Until the bell rings, they’re not allowed to let go. I’ll be back to check.”

Henry Howard: “”

Ethan Young: “”

The other students, now with a heavy responsibility: “”

After Mad Dog left, Luke Carter nudged Wanda, hesitantly asking, “Are we really supposed to supervise?”

Mad Dog’s punishments were always bizarre and creative. Once, when he was late, he climbed over the wall because other students said it was easy. But on the other side, Mad Dog was standing there, eating breakfast and drinking soy milk, and made him climb back and forth over twenty times.

But this was even weirder—how could they really supervise, and supervise hand-holding at that.

Compared to Luke Carter, Wanda was much calmer. He leisurely opened his English book and said, “Actually, I don’t think we need to supervise at all.”

The last row of the classroom.