Zhou Wei hummed twice, grabbed a handful of safety pins from the box to distribute, and said, “Brother Che, the high jump and long jump check-ins should be happening around the same time later. I’m gonna hit the restroom first; if they call my name, remember to hold on a sec for me.”
“Sure, go on, hurry up,” Zhao Che replied as his hand reached into his sports pants pocket. The chocolates inside had been brought along specifically from his backpack that morning, the corners of the two dark chocolate wrappers slightly wrinkled.
When he looked up, he saw Gu Yu sitting less than half a meter away in the shade of the bleachers, perfectly sheltered from the sun. Zhao Che smiled and handed the chocolate over: “If my check-in clashes with your 200-meter sprint later, I might not be able to make it over.” His voice wasn’t loud, blending into the hot breeze. “Pocket them. If you feel dizzy after running, eat a piece.”
“Thanks.” Gu Yu stuffed the sweets into his pocket, his voice remaining faint and devoid of much emotion.
Watching Gu Yu stuff the chocolates into his pocket, the image of him almost passing out on the track last time surfaced in Zhao Che’s mind.
It had been a scorching day like this too. Zhao Che’s high jump semi-finals were at a critical moment when he wiped away his sweat and happened to catch sight of the 200-meter finish line. Gu Yu was charging across the red tape like an arrow, his light blue school uniform gently lifted by the wind. But before Zhao Che could feel happy, that figure suddenly stumbled. He supported himself against the wall with one hand, his back arched slightly as if all his strength had been drained away.
Zhao Che’s heart tightened. Before his finals were even over, he had already rushed out. When he caught hold of Gu Yu, he realized how pale the other boy’s face was, with fine beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. Without another word, he led him straight to the infirmary.
On the way to the infirmary, Gu Yu had even chided him for making a mountain out of a molehill.
“How am I that fragile?” he had said back then, frowning with a trace of awkward annoyance, becoming unusually talkative. “It’s just a bout of low blood sugar. Sitting down for a bit is all it takes, but you had to make such a big fuss about it, as if I’m somehow delicate.”
Zhao Che hadn’t defended himself then, but the grip with which he supported Gu Yu remained firm and unyielding. It was only when they reached the infirmary and he watched Gu Yu sip finish the glucose water given by the school nurse, his complexion recovering a bit, that Zhao Che whispered in a low voice: “Seeing you unable to even stand steadily back then, how could I have had time to overthink things?”
He knew Gu Yu was thin-skinned and liked to put on a brave face, so this time he simply prepared the chocolates in advance.
In the distance, the loudspeaker began to hum again: “Check-in for Grade 10 and Grade 11 boys’ long jump and high jump is starting.” At this moment, Zhou Wei happened to jog over, shouting to Zhao Che on the bleachers: “Let’s go, Brother Che, time to check in!”
Zhao Che stood up and pointed at the bib number pinned to Gu Yu’s chest, which was slightly crooked, reminding him: “This corner is slanted; readjust it. I’m off then—I’ll get a first place for you to see this time.”
Gu Yu glanced at him, lowered his head to adjust his bib number, and casually said, “Yeah, sure.”
Hearing that, Zhao Che felt like he had been injected with adrenaline, eagerly running down the bleachers to join Zhou Wei at the small canopy on the south side of the sports field.
Once they arrived, the clerk quickly finished roll call and waved everyone off to prepare at their respective grounds. Zhou Wei followed a group of long jump contestants toward the sandpit in order, turning back after a few steps to shout: “Brother Che, I’m heading over first, good luck!”
Zhao Che waved back at him and turned toward the high jump area. The crossbar was initially set at just 1.3 meters. A few early contestants were circling around the mat, some standing on tiptoes to measure the height, while others squatted down to test the mat’s bounce.
Liu Zonglin from the neighboring class was also there. Seeing Zhao Che walk over, he intentionally stood in front of the crossbar, resting an elbow on the frame: “How’s your condition today? Don’t be like last time—forfeiting halfway through.”
Zhao Che looked at the guy leaning against the frame, who was as thin as a telephone pole, trying hard to recall, but after thinking for a long while, he couldn’t remember who this was at all. Thus, he asked in confusion, “Who are you?”
Liu Zonglin let out a “tsk” and taunted: “How busy minds forget… But it doesn’t matter, first place is still gonna be mine this time.”
As Zhao Che straightened up, he thought to himself: I’m done—that was seven years ago, who on earth remembers who you are? But as for first place, it definitely won’t fall to a telephone pole like you this time.
After all, since he had already promised Gu Yu, he would definitely fight for it.
The high jump was only a dozen meters away from the long jump field. After Zhao Che finished one round, he caught sight out of the corner of his eye of Zhou Wei preparing his runway approach over at the sandpit. His strides were big and hasty; running up to the takeoff line, he paused abruptly, then stepped right onto the white line and fell face-first into the sandpit. Climbing up with a face full of sand, he even flashed an “OK” gesture toward the referee, making the surrounding students burst out laughing.
Helplessly withdrawing his gaze, Zhao Che effortlessly jumped through round after round. Slowly, the height reached an impressive 1.7 meters.
His runway strides were as steady as ever. Thirty centimeters before the bar, he exerted power abruptly, his body floating up like a leaf with his lower back almost clinging to the bar. When he landed, the mat sank with a thud, eliciting praises from the spectating girls.
“Wow, that was so cool!”
“My male god truly lives up to his title, totally in love with him!”
“Ahhh, Che-shen looked at me, so handsome!”
“Not bad, Zhao Che!” The referee made two quick tallies on the record board.
Zhao Che climbed up from the mat and patted the dust off his back. Completely failing to catch what they were saying, his gaze swept straight past the crowd toward the track, catching sight of Gu Yu checking in over at the 200-meter canopy in the distance.
Just as he withdrew his gaze, Zhou Wei ran over impetuously, sand dropping from his pant legs: “I just jumped 2.4 meters! Made it to the finals! What about you? Did you pass?”
“Not over yet.” Zhao Che looked at the crossbar; the staff members were adjusting the height upward, setting the scale to 1.75 meters. “After this bar, it’s your turn.”
Zhou Wei poked his head to look, his mouth opening into an ‘O’ shape: “So high? It’s almost as tall as me.” Pointing his chin toward the track, he added, “Hey, Gu Yu is looking at you.”
Zhao Che snapped his head around; Gu Yu indeed had his head raised, his gaze clashing right with his. Less than three seconds into the eye contact, Gu Yu was called back by someone beside him.
“What are you dazing off for? It’s your turn!” Liu Zonglin called out from the side, a touch of teasing in his tone.
Only Zhao Che and Liu Zonglin were left on the field now; this bar would pretty much decide the winner.
Zhao Che composed himself and took a few steps back. This time, his runway approach was half a beat faster than before. Approaching the bar, he steeled his resolve and leaped into the air—a feat far more thrilling than the previous attempt. Upon landing, the mat vibrated so hard that his tailbone felt numb.
“Cleared!” The referee raised the pen in his hand. “Zhao Che, 1.75 meters!”
“Holy crap, awesome, Brother Che!” Zhou Wei threw over an unopened bottle of water.
Liu Zonglin huffed unconvinced and jumped as well, but ended up knocking the bar off three times in a row. He got up sulkily: “Zhao Che, you wait—there are still the finals!”
Zhou Wei rolled his eyes at him and whispered to Zhao Che: “Is this guy alright? Look at his pretentious act—if he can’t jump over it now, does he think he can in the finals?”
“Ignore him. Hurry back; your finals list should be calculated by now too.” Zhao Che tilted his chin toward the sandpit, signaling him to go back.
“Alright, I’ll head off first. If I finish fast, maybe I can still go cheer Brother Yu on,” Zhou Wei said, taking his water and jogging back quickly.
The high jump results were tabulated very quickly, coming out in just a few minutes. The remaining eight contestants took turns, and the results weren’t much different from the original rankings; Liu Zonglin, who had been so confident earlier, was still stuck at 1.75 meters.
“The next round goes up to 1.8 meters. Clearing it breaks the school record,” the referee tapped the record board at his side. “It’s up to you now if you want to try.”
Zhao Che placed his water bottle by the mat, the water droplets on the bottom leaving a small wet mark on the synthetic track.
“I’ll try.” He tugged at his sportswear collar; the breeze blowing in carried some heat, yet couldn’t disperse the sweat at the back of his neck.
When the crossbar rose to 1.8 meters, several onlookers suddenly gathered around. Some held up their phones to record, while others whispered bets beside them: “Do you think he can clear it? The school record last time seemed to be 1.8 meters, right?”
Zhao Che took ten steps back. His footsteps during the runway approach were exceptionally clear in the quiet field. He recalled the look Gu Yu had directed at him earlier—it wasn’t fervent, yet it carried a bit more warmth than usual, like an occasional breeze blowing through this scorching day.
At the moment of takeoff, he intentionally raised his hips, his back almost parallel to the crossbar. A collective gasp of held breath brushed past his ears, and the bar didn’t shake in the slightest, staying steadily on the stands. He didn’t get up right away upon landing, lying on the mat listening to the cheering exploding around him, the corners of his lips curling upward uncontrollably.
“Record broken! Zhao Che, 1.8 meters!” The referee’s voice carried a hint of excitement.
Supporting himself on the mat to sit up, he happened to see Gu Yu starting his run on the track. As the starting gun went off, Zhao Che jumped down from the mat, made a dashing signature on the score sheet, grabbed the mineral water bottle off the ground, and dashed toward Gu Yu’s direction.
Crossing the finish line, Gu Yu seemed to sense something and turned back, seeing Zhao Che standing not far from the finish line, grinning at him with a “number one” gesture.
Gu Yu froze for a moment, then was lightly nudged on the arm by the boy next to him: “Not bad, Gu Yu! With these results, you’re definitely in the finals!”
Gu Yu didn’t speak, panting slightly with his mouth parted. Suddenly remembering something, he reached into his pocket and touched the chocolate that had been warmed softer by his body temperature.
Zhao Che walked over excitedly, scanning Gu Yu from head to toe to make sure nothing was wrong. He then extended his hand and passed over the water he held: “Have some water, Gu Yu.”
Gu Yu stared at the bottle in front of him in a daze before unscrewing it to drink. He tilted the bottle high, keeping the opening three centimeters away from his lips.
Seeing him drink water like this, Zhao Che suddenly realized that this bottle seemed to be one he had drunk from earlier—he hadn’t reacted to it at all just now. Just as he was hesitating on how to speak up, Zhou Wei, having finished his finals, trotted over too.
“Nice one, Brother Che! Broke the record and took the championship!” Zhou Wei said with a sly laugh. “I got a rank too—lucked out with third place this time. When Old Chen hears our results later, do you think she’ll be happy enough to assign one less math worksheet?”
“Beg her, and maybe she will,” Zhao Che bent down to tie his shoelaces, an uncontrollable joy in his voice.
“Forget it then.” Zhou Wei curled his lips, then asked cheerfully, “Is Brother Yu in the finals too?”
“Yeah.” There was a look of delight deep in Gu Yu’s eyes too—though it was hard to tell whether he was happy about entering the finals himself or happy about Zhao Che taking first place.
Zhou Wei: “Awesome! Keep it up, Brother Yu—you get a first place to show us too. This year, we’ll scare Old Chen to death with pure strength!”