Chapter 25: Ruan An'an Pretends Not to Hear

Regardless of what anyone might say, it has to be admitted: when the school bully lowers his head and acts submissive, he is actually quite handsome.

"Where are the sign-up sheets for the school sports meet? I want to participate."

This question was directed at Sang Wan.

Sang Wan was stunned for a moment before scrambling to pull the forms from her desk.

"Group events or individual events?"

"Both," Mu Ziye said, enunciating each word clearly.

Upon hearing this, the others suddenly looked up, staring at Mu Ziye in astonishment.

Could this young master actually be this proactive?!

Hadn't he always disliked participating in extracurricular activities?

Feeling the weight of so many gazes, Mu Ziye couldn't help but frown. "What are you all looking at me for?"

"Is it not allowed to sign up for both group and individual events?"

"Yes, yes, it is! Go ahead and fill out the individual event form; you can sign up for a maximum of three."

"I'll handle the group event sheet for you."

Mu Ziye blinked, his long, slender eyelashes fluttering in a way that was actually quite charming.

He had wanted to sign up for everything; he was actually quite good at sports. He had nearly become a student athlete back then, had it not been for the fear of sending his old man to an early grave.

But since he was limited to three, Mu Ziye didn't hesitate to write his name down for the 50-meter sprint, the high jump, and the long jump.

These were the events that would best showcase his style.

At this moment, Mu Ziye was like a peacock fanning its tail, sparing no effort to show himself off.

His gaze landed on Jiang Wuyang, waiting expectantly for her reaction.

However, Jiang Wuyang seemed unmoved. Her reaction was remarkably plain; there was only curiosity in her eyes, no shock or admiration.

Mu Ziye lowered his gaze in disappointment and returned to his seat.

The others were quite happy that Mu Ziye had signed up, as one more person participating meant one less chance that they would be forced to compete.

When the bell rang, everyone returned to their seats.

Time passed. In the school infirmary, Jiang Yiran’s eyelashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.

"Yangyang... Yangyang..." His throat was hoarse, and speaking felt as though his throat were burning.

"You're awake?" The infirmary doctor, wearing a white coat with his hands in his pockets, stood before Jiang Yiran with a blank expression.

"Where am I?"

The doctor sighed. "You're in the infirmary. You had a fever—39.5 degrees Celsius. If you had come in any later, you would have hit forty."

"Drink some water."

The doctor turned to pour a cup of water from a disposable paper cup for Jiang Yiran.

Jiang Yiran only took a single sip before putting it down. The water tasted like the hospital, and he didn't like it.

"Did you see who brought me here?"

The doctor frowned, recalling the moment. "He seemed to say he was from the Science Class A..."

"Jiang Wuyang!" Jiang Yiran blurted out impatiently, his eyes suddenly lighting up as he looked at the doctor with expectation.

Regrettably, the doctor shook his head in response.

"I don't know their names. They didn't say. But they were two tall, thin boys who looked very handsome!" At this, the doctor became animated, as women of any age tend to favor handsome men.

Jiang Yiran lowered his head in disappointment.

He clearly remembered... he clearly remembered that the last person he saw before losing consciousness was Yangyang.

Had Yangyang truly changed?

In the past, let alone a fever, even if he just had a cold or a cough, she would be distressed for ages, running back and forth to buy him medicine.

He remembered one time when he had only coughed once, and Jiang Wuyang had prepared rock sugar and pear soup for him for three consecutive days, coming over after every class for fear that the soup would get cold.

How devoted she had been to him back then...

But now that he actually had a fever, he couldn't even see a shadow of her.

He sighed, his heart filled with disappointment toward Jiang Wuyang.

Lacking the desire to speak, he waited quietly for the IV drip to finish.

Perhaps it was due to the fever, but Jiang Yiran felt incredibly despondent. Even after returning to the classroom, he still hadn't recovered.

"Where did you go? You were here during morning reading, why did you suddenly skip class? An'an came looking for you earlier; she seemed to have something on her mind, but she wouldn't say what it was when I asked."

Duan Jinyan looked at Jiang Yiran's pale face with confusion; he clearly remembered that Jiang Yiran’s face had been rosy that morning.

"I had a fever and went to the infirmary for an IV drip. What happened? Is it urgent?"

Jiang Yiran had no interest in answering; he simply slumped over his desk, listless.

"I’m not entirely sure. Why don't you go find An'an and ask her yourself?"

"Wait a while. I’m tired."

Duan Jinyan’s handsome brow furrowed immediately, his tone tinged with blame. "Don't be willful. Maybe she had something important to tell you? Besides, the sophomore building isn't far; it only takes four or five minutes to walk there."

"It’s not easy for An'an to come over, unlike Jiang Wuyang, who used to run over here every single day."

As soon as he finished speaking, both of them froze.

That was true. While they often said the sophomore building wasn't far, it still took three or four minutes to walk, or perhaps two minutes at a run—yet a break between classes was only about ten minutes long.

Jiang Wuyang had been able to come every day, so why had she stopped coming lately?

When she used to come, they had found her annoying, but now that she didn't come anymore, they felt a strange sense of unease.

"Fine, I'll go."

Jiang Yiran finally compromised.

He had already lost Jiang Wuyang as a sister; he couldn't afford to lose An'an too.

Yangyang and he were becoming increasingly estranged. If An'an were to become distant as well... he dared not imagine how terrible that would be.

Dragging his sickly body, he walked toward the sophomore building step by step.

Fearing that he wouldn't make it back before the next class, Jiang Yiran even broke into a light jog every few steps.

He had walked this path countless times, yet this was the first time it felt so long.

By the time he arrived, Jiang Yiran was panting heavily.

In the sophomore Liberal Arts Class A classroom, Ruan An'an was sitting at her desk, laughing and joking with others, looking completely relaxed.

"Which events are you signing up for?" someone asked Ruan An'an.

Ruan An'an pouted as if struggling with the decision, then shook her head after a few seconds. "I'm not signing up. I'm not good at these things, and I'm afraid I'll just embarrass our class."

The person nodded in agreement. "You're right, but if no one signs up, we'll have to draw lots at the end. Instead of drawing something you don't want, it's better to sign up for something you can actually do."

Ruan An'an curled her lip in disdain, her tone indifferent. "Doesn't our class have so many student athletes? Let them sign up."

Ruan An'an was sitting by the window, and Jiang Yiran heard this exactly as he arrived.

The words were so selfish that Jiang Yiran couldn't help but frown.

"An'an." Jiang Yiran’s lips were white, his voice weak.

Ruan An'an acted as if she hadn't heard him, continuing to chat and joke with those around her.

It wasn't until Jiang Yiran strained his throat and called out again, raising his volume slightly—his voice weak and raspy from the effort—that Ruan An'an finally looked over.

Yes, she had deliberately pretended not to hear him. Who told him to be missing when she had painstakingly walked three or four minutes to their building to find him?