3,000 meters
The sports meet at the end of October crashed into the most comfortable autumn light. The plane trees on both sides of the playground dropped leaves all over the ground. The wind blew the shadows of the leaves like broken gold across the red plastic track, carrying a hint of the scent of sun-dried grass and wood, mixed with the noise from the audience, but it could not cover up the heat in Li Huaizhou's chest that was only for one person. He stood behind the starting line of the 3,000-meter race, and his fingertips repeatedly rubbed the "08" embroidered on the number cloth - the fabric was softened by the morning dew, and there was still some fine sand from the edge of the track embedded in the stitches, rubbing against his fingertips. The edge of the muscle effect patch on his left ankle was a little curled, and the soreness from stretching during the warm-up still remained in his muscles, but he stared at the track stretching in front of him, his eyes trembling with light. This light was not to compete with Class 2, but to let the person in the third row of the audience with his back straight see clearly how he ran.
"Don't rush too hard!" Ji Jiancheng pushed his way through the crowd and pressed a bottle of iced sports drink into his hand. Droplets of water from the bottle clung to his fingers. Shen Qitang followed suit, patting his shoulder, the warmth of his palm radiating through the thin, quick-drying shirt. "It doesn't matter whether you get first place or not. Don't get angry with that guy from Class 2. He was hanging around the edge of the playground yesterday, deliberately telling people he was going to leave you behind half a lap. It was clearly a provocation." Li Huaizhou didn't respond. He tilted his head back and took a sip of his drink. The cool liquid slid down his throat, but it couldn't suppress the heat rising in his heart. He raised his head, looking over the throng of people—girls holding colorful playing cards, boys chatting loudly—and his gaze, like a thread, precisely locked onto the figure in the third row of the audience.
Xie Mo sat there, his back as straight as a poplar tree unbent by the wind, a light blue notebook of errors spread across his lap. Suddenly, their eyes met in mid-air, and Xie Mo's eyelashes trembled slightly, like a sycamore leaf swept by the wind, and then he nodded very slowly and lightly—so subtle that only the two of them could detect. Li Huaizhou's ears suddenly felt hot, as if they had been scorched by the autumn sun. He quickly looked away, pretending to check the electronic timer beside the track, but his fingertips were crinkling the number cloth, and the number "08" was deformed. His heart felt like a ball of cotton warmed by the autumn sun, heavy and heavy, and even his breathing slowed a beat.
"On your marks - set -" the referee's voice suddenly pierced the noise, reminding him of what Xie Mo had written in the lower right corner of his draft paper last week: "Keep your center of gravity low when starting, take small and fast strides, don't try to grab the first lap with others, conserve your energy." The starting gun went off, and the sharp sound mixed with the wind filled his ears. He rushed out with the crowd, but deliberately slowed down his pace and landed in the middle and back position - he remembered Xie Mo saying "three thousand meters has seven and a half laps in total. The first four laps should be steady, and your breathing rhythm should be reduced to two steps to one inhale, two steps to one exhale." This rhythm was not taught by the physical education teacher. Xie Mo looked at the sports meeting schedule the night before and spent half the night looking up long-distance running techniques on the Internet, and wrote them down stroke by stroke on the draft paper.
The wind blew past his ears, carrying the fragrance of sycamore leaves and the cheers of the audience. Occasionally, broken leaves drifted onto his face, making it tingle. He could hear Ji Jiancheng holding a sign that read "08 Rush" and running along the track guardrail, his shouting changing tone. As he passed the first bend, he couldn't help but glance at the audience. Xie Mo still maintained his original posture, his fingertips stroking the wrong answer book - that was his little trick when he was nervous.
The first two laps were incredibly steady, and he remained in fourth place. His footwork was incredibly even, and the distance of each stride was almost spot-on. Halfway through the third lap, he followed Xie Mo's advice to "accelerate slowly, don't use force suddenly," quietly increasing his stride rate and swinging his arms a bit more, easily overtaking the third-place runner. A fine layer of sweat began to form on his forehead, trickling down his cheeks and onto the track. It quickly dried, leaving behind a small, pale white mark. But he didn't feel tired; instead, he ran more and more steadily.
At the end of the fourth lap, he had already caught up to the second place, and was only ten meters away from the leading boy from Class 2. The other party realized that he was being chased, and deliberately increased his speed. He would lean towards him from time to time, and his shoulder almost touched his arm, trying to disrupt his rhythm. Li Huaizhou did not hide, but just moved a little to the outside, and with the help of the wind, he increased his pace a little - he remembered what Xie Mo wrote on the draft paper: "Don't panic when you encounter interference, keep your own pace, and let the other party be more anxious than you." His fingertips clenched subconsciously, and he didn't even have time to breathe. He even had time to glance at the audience: Xie Mo's body leaned forward a little, and his right hand held the wrong answer book tighter. It seemed that he could still see the traces of his fingertips exerting force.
At the beginning of the fifth lap, the atmosphere gradually became tense. The cheers from the audience became louder and louder. Some people held up their mobile phones to take pictures. The flash lights made people dizzy in the sunlight, and some people shouted the contestants' numbers at the top of their lungs. The boy from Class 2 suddenly leaned towards him and hit his arm hard with his elbow. Li Huaizhuo staggered and almost fell. He gritted his teeth and didn't look back. He just lengthened his stride and followed steadily. On the sixth lap, he finally caught up with the other party. The two ran side by side on the innermost side of the track. The plastic track was "dong dong" sounded by their footsteps, as if beating the drum in his heart. The cheers from the audience exploded instantly, and Ji Jiancheng's shouts changed tone: "Huaizhuo! Surpass him! Leave him behind!" Li Huaizhuo's heartbeat began to accelerate, and his chest felt like a warm stone was pressing on it. He wanted to run faster, to take first place, to make the group of pretentious people in Class 2 regret it, and also wanted him to see
"Last lap! Numbers 08 and 12 are neck and neck! 400 meters to the finish line!" The commentary on the radio was so urgent, it came through the loudspeakers in the playground, making his ears a little numb. Li Huaizhou's breathing began to become heavier, and every breath was a little burning, and his throat was a little dry, but he didn't dare slow down. He stared at the track stretching out in front of him, at the white figure at the finish line that was becoming clearer and clearer. He concentrated all his strength on his legs, as if he was gathering strength to make Xie Mo see clearly. When he was 200 meters away from the finish line, he suddenly accelerated, pushed the ground hard with his right leg, and the sole of his shoe rubbed against the plastic surface of the runway. The moment his body rushed forward, he left the boys in Class 2 half a body length behind him; at 100 meters, the gap was narrowed to one meter. He could hear the rapid breathing of the boys in Class 2 behind him, and his own "booming" heartbeat, as if resonating with Xie Mo's gaze; at 50 meters, the cheers from the audience made his eardrums hurt, and his vision began to blur. Only the red mark of the finish line became clearer and clearer, as well as the white figure standing upright next to the finish line - Xie Mo had come down from the audience at some point and was standing on the grass outside the finish line, with his hands slightly open, palms facing his direction.
"First..."
Li Huaizhou pushed forward with all his might. The moment he crossed the finish line toe first, cheers from the crowd surged in like a tide, but the strength in his body seemed to be instantly drained. His legs felt weak as if they had no bones, and he stumbled forward, about to fall. The expected feeling of weightlessness didn't last long. He crashed into a warm embrace with the scent of soapberry—it was Xie Mo. Only Xie Mo had this clean and reassuring scent. It wasn't the scent of laundry detergent, but the scent of the soap he always used, light and clear, like moonlight falling on draft paper. Xie Mo's arms were tightly wrapped around his waist, his forearms pressed against his sweat-soaked quick-drying clothes, with a slight coolness, but holding him firmly, not letting him stagger. Xie Mo's chin rested lightly on his shoulder, his breathing a little hurried, with a hint of the heat from running down from the audience, mixed with the familiar scent of soapberry, which enveloped him in warmth. He could feel Xie Mo's fingers trembling slightly, and the strength of the clothes on his waist was sometimes light and sometimes heavy, as if he was repeatedly confirming whether he was really okay, but also as if he was afraid of hurting him by squeezing too hard.
"Great." Xie Mo's voice was different from usual, a little hoarse, as if he had just shouted "Come on!" to the wind several times but didn't dare let anyone hear it. It was no longer as calm as usual, and the ending tone was a little trembling. He lowered his head to look at Li Huaizhou's sweaty face, his eyelashes drooping, casting a small, fragmented shadow under his eyes. His sight first fell on the knee of his sweatpants, which was stained with grass debris. His fingers couldn't help but touch it lightly, rubbing the grass stems on the fabric with his fingertips to make sure that he didn't break the skin. He quickly moved to his ankle and stared at the curled-up muscle patch for two seconds. After making sure that it hadn't moved, he relaxed his strength a little, but didn't let him go. Instead, he pulled him closer to his arms - as if he was afraid that the people who squeezed in would break the treasure in his hands.
Li Huaizhou leaned on his shoulder and gasped, his chest heaving violently, and he could clearly feel Xie Mo's heartbeat - much faster than usual, beating "boom boom", as if it was syncing with his previous pace, and it was clearly transmitted through two layers of clothes. His face was pressed against Xie Mo's school uniform, and he could feel the fabric was a little damp from sweat, and the lines on Xie Mo's back were tense from the effort. He suddenly felt a little panicked, and a little sweet, like holding a lollipop that had just melted in the autumn sun, the same taste that Xie Mo stuffed into him last time, sweet and warm. He subconsciously reached out and gently grasped the corner of Xie Mo's school uniform, his fingertips rubbing against the texture of the fabric, and the touch was very familiar.
The noise around him continued. Some people patted his back and shouted "Brother Zhou is awesome." Some people came over with their phones to take pictures. The flash made his eyes a little blurry. Ji Jiancheng and Shen Qitang squeezed through the crowd and ran over, reaching out to help him: "Brother Zhou, are you okay? I'll help you to the rest platform." But he was gently stopped by Xie Mo - Xie Mo didn't say anything, just turned sideways, holding Li Huaizhou tighter in his arms, his eyes fell on Ji Jiancheng's outstretched hand, as if to say "No, I'll do it"
"I'll take you to the lounge." Xie Mo finally spoke, his voice was very soft, but every word was clear, and he only spoke to Li Huaizhuo, as if he was afraid of being heard by others, or afraid that being too loud would scare him. Before Li Huaizhuo could react - in fact, he didn't have the strength to react, Xie Mo had already bent down, carefully passed his arms through his knees and back, and slowly picked him up sideways. Xie Mo's strength was not great, and when he was holding him, his arms were obviously exerting force, the muscles of his forearms were tensed, and his shoulders sank slightly, but he walked very steadily, deliberately slowing down each step, and gently adjusting his posture so that Li Huaizhuo's ankles could be suspended in the air.
The tips of Li Huaizhou's ears felt extremely hot, as if they had been sunburned by the autumn sun. He subconsciously reached out and gently wrapped his arms around Xie Mo's neck. His fingertips touched the skin on the back of Xie Mo's neck, which was a little cool, but it made him afraid to move, and even his breathing became lighter. He could feel all the eyes around him on them, some were surprised, some were curious, and some girls were whispering about "Xie Mo actually hugging him." But Xie Mo didn't seem to hear or care. He only stared at the road ahead, occasionally looking down at him to make sure he was okay. The panic in his eyes slowly faded, leaving only a softened care. That care was like water, gently wrapping around Li Huaizhou, invisible to others.
The rest area was not far from the finish line, covered with a blue sponge mat. To prevent accidents, the school doctor was there. Xie Mo walked to the mat and did not put him down immediately. Instead, he bent down and let Li Huaizhou's back gently lean against the edge of the mat. After confirming that he was sitting firmly, he slowly let go of his hand. Without waiting for Li Huaizhou to speak, Xie Mo went to call the school doctor to come over and check on Li Huaizhou.
Li Huaizhou leaned back on the mat, watching Xie Mo's back. The back of his white school uniform was soaked with sweat, a small wet mark spreading like a light cloud from his shoulder blades to his waist. He was listening to the medical staff with his head down, his right fingers gently pinching the corner of his school uniform, his expressionless. Ji Jiancheng handed him a bottle of warm water and bumped his arm with a smile. "You're amazing! Not only did you get first place, but you also let Xie Daxue hold you in public. This treatment is unique in the whole school."
Li Huaizhou did not refute, but just looked up in the direction of Xie Mo. The wind blew over again, carrying the scent of sycamore leaves, blowing the loose hair on Xie Mo's forehead, revealing a bit of his smooth forehead. Xie Mo just turned around, his eyes fell on him, without saying a word, just nodded slightly, as if to confirm, and as if to respond to his previous gaze. The softness in his eyes could not be hidden, like sugar melting in the autumn sun. Li Huaizhou looked at him and suddenly smiled - the feeling of weightlessness after crossing the finish line just now had not completely faded, but the moment he was hugged by Xie Mo, he felt more stable than ever.
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