On the way to the sports field, Pei Xingyan’s legs trembled uncontrollably as he kept scrolling through his phone screen, praying that he was just seeing things.
But no, the notice was clear in black and white: their joint team was formed together with the Art Institute of Zhe Academy and two other colleges.
What made him even more desperate was that, just as Shen Zhishu had said, the school leadership was indeed taking this sports meet very seriously.
Standing at the prominent main stand, Pei Xingyan looked around and saw the bleachers packed with people—almost every college in the entire school had students showing up.
He was baffled. Normally, university students were lazy dogs who dodged any event they could, so why were they suddenly so enthusiastic and eager at a time like this?
Pei Xingyan had no idea how these students had been rallied.
He could only pray that the two people he dreaded seeing wouldn’t be swept up in this wave.
The leaders had already taken the stage, and the entire crowd’s attention was focused there. He quietly shifted his position, shielding his teammates in front of him.
But even among a group of sporty boys, Pei Xingyan’s height still counted as tall. Even squeezed into the very last row, he couldn’t hide his face.
So he could only keep his head down, eyes fixed on his own toes.
The leaders from several colleges gave gentle speeches up front. After a while, Pei Xingyan finally understood the reason behind such a grandiose event.
Perhaps the school leaders’ desire for political achievements had reached a pathological level, but they were at a loss for new ideas.
Driven by the goal of “advancing the school’s strength,” they set their sights on the Sports University opposite the West Gate, hoping to merge in the only subject their school lacked besides military studies: sports science.
So before that, the school planned to showcase a “strong” sports atmosphere, which was why they had gone through so much trouble to organize this unprecedentedly grand sports meet.
Pei Xingyan didn’t care whether the principal could merge the Sports University to push the school into the TOP 2.
He had only signed up because of the promised prize money, and now all he worried about was not letting anyone see his face.
Glancing around briefly just now, he noticed the various colleges’ teams were seated very close together, practically side by side.
Now he was even more nervous, praying there wouldn’t be so many coincidences in this world.
But fate seemed to have a cruel sense of humor—just enough coincidences to torment a poor young man like him.
Pei Xingyan spotted two familiar figures sitting just near each other—only one row apart, and horizontally right next to each other.
At this distance, anyone speaking a bit louder would have their words clearly heard by those beside them.
He gritted his teeth, gasping for breath, and immediately lowered his head even more.
But then, fate dealt its second blow without warning.
After the leaders’ gentle speeches ended came the captain selection segment.
Though not all nine of them on site necessarily played baseball, the leadership insisted on the formalities, insisting that there must be a team leader wearing an armband.
Pei Xingyan shrank further back, having no intention of being the first-string player.
Showing off depended on the situation, and right now was definitely not the time.
“Pei… Xingyan?”
Suddenly, a strange voice called out his name.
Pei Xingyan looked forward in disbelief. Several leaders, whom he’d only ever seen in news reports or admission letters, now accurately called out his name with approving smiles—like sect elders in a cultivation novel spotting a genius they favored.
His mind went blank, unable to understand how they even knew such an insignificant nobody like him.
“I heard before this that some students were very enthusiastic, signing up for five events straight, all niche sports. That must be you, young man?” The middle-aged man in charge spoke with a deep, refined voice as he approached Pei Xingyan.
Only then did Pei Xingyan realize that he had already stolen the spotlight without even knowing it.
He could only continue shrinking in the back, forcing out a shy smile and nodding.
“Don’t stand so far back, come up front.” The man continued, “Just for your enthusiasm alone, I think the captain spot has to be yours.”
Pei Xingyan shook his head hurriedly.
What enthusiasm? It was all the temptation of prize money!
He took half a step backward again.
“Looks like our students still have the good quality of humility—shows that student affairs are going well.” The man laughed heartily, joking with others nearby, but he didn’t forget to keep discussing the captain matter.
He walked over, grabbed Pei Xingyan’s arm, and led him to the most prominent spot in front of the stage.
“Don’t be nervous, see, the others agree too.”
Pei Xingyan looked around in a daze. Damn it, those other faces were clearly full of schadenfreude!
It was obvious these guys were all forced conscripts.
No one wanted to be any damn captain in this team—let alone Pei Xingyan himself at this moment.
But he couldn’t exactly give the principal a sharp elbow and run away, could he?
He just hung his head low, trying to avoid letting others see his face clearly.
The man picked up the microphone again, rambling on.
Pei Xingyan had zero interest in listening—he knew it was all empty formalities.
He started playing little tricks, quietly shifting his stance to turn his back toward the direction he didn’t want to face.
He stood there anxiously, picking at the ground with his toes.
If it had been dirt instead of concrete, he might have dug out a three-bedroom apartment by now.
But fate seemed to give him a break.
Until the speech ended.
Until someone tied the captain’s armband on his arm.
Until they were about to announce the end of this awkward occasion.
No disasters occurred.
Pei Xingyan finally breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he was a bit lucky after all.
But he was happy way too soon.
Pei Xingyan swore if he could do it again, he’d never pop champagne halfway through the game.
A clear female voice pierced through the entire sports field’s sky.
It was a voice Pei Xingyan knew all too well—a voice that always sweetly called him “Baby” in a coquettish tone.
The cute girl named Su Shanshan.
“Baby!!! You’re the most handsome!!!”
Pei Xingyan instinctively looked toward the voice.
Su Shanshan was already standing, cupping her hands like a megaphone in front of her mouth.
Her face was full of sweet smiles, with a hint of pride.
Only then did he realize that Su Shanshan must have noticed him as soon as she arrived here.
All his attempts to hide were just self-deception.
But the past no longer mattered.
Pei Xingyan saw Su Shanshan waving excitedly at him, hoping for a response.
Nearby, Lin Xiaoyu also caught sight of Pei Xingyan and was equally surprised, eyes wide as she waved at him.
Pei Xingyan felt a bit dizzy, as if he was about to fall from the high main stand.