Summer in Your Name - 33

On Friday afternoon, the traditional events wrapped up, and the fun sports began. The first event was the Big Windmill. Sheng Xia stood in the bleachers, holding Xin Xiaohe’s stuff and cheering her on.

The race was genuinely fun. Everyone wore their class uniforms, gripping a pole as they ran, looking like colorful centipedes crawling along the track. At the turns, the trailing teammates bumped into each other, kicking, pulling, stumbling, while the bleachers erupted in hoots and hollers, creating quite a lively scene.

Class 6 barely managed a third place in their grade, missing the finals.

Xin Xiaohe stormed off the field, gulping water and fuming: “All that practice for nothing! Those Class 4 turtles were pulling dirty tricks—straight out of Korea, I swear! I’m so mad!”

“It’s just for fun, no big deal!” Yang Linyu tried to console her from the side.

Xin Xiaohe glared, “Easy for you to say, you weren’t the one getting yanked!”

Yang Linyu shut up awkwardly.

“Qi Xiulei!” Xin Xiaohe grabbed the boy next to her. “You better win ‘Linked Hoops’! I don’t care, if you don’t beat Class 4, don’t even think about stepping into our class’s front door!”

Qi Xiulei rubbed his nose quietly. “Then I’ll use the back door.”

Xin Xiaohe: …

Zhang Shu let out a laugh. “Not letting him in? What, you planning to guard the door like a gate god?”

Xin Xiaohe switched tones. “Whatever, just win! Go for it, Brother Shu!”

Zhang Shu rubbed his arms. “Cut it out, no tough-girl acting cute.”

Xin Xiaohe smirked. “Fine, but you better hold up against your old flame acting cute. Don’t switch sides mid-race. Class 4’s got Chen Mengyao in Linked Hoops, you know.”

She said it quietly, just for their little circle, but Zhang Shu suddenly stood up, leaning on the railing. “Old flame? Explain yourself. What old flame? I’ve been pure as snow all these years, where’s this old flame coming from? Xin Xiaohe, you rumor-spreading machine, so it’s you I’ve been looking for!”

He didn’t control his volume at all, practically shouting toward the bleachers, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

Normally, Zhang Shu never engaged with gossip like this.

Xin Xiaohe protested, “I didn’t start it! Everyone’s saying it…”

“Who’s ‘everyone’?” Zhang Shu’s posture was relaxed, but his tone had an edge of seriousness. “Everyone said the world was gonna end in 2012. If that was true, you’d be a fossil in the Himalayas by now.”

The bleachers burst into laughter, and nearby classes started whispering.

Xin Xiaohe: …Was that necessary? So fierce!

Hou Junqi understood—Zhang Shu was shutting down the rumor publicly. He chimed in to clear the air, “Don’t worry, it’s not about you. Shu’s just saying that the rumor about him liking someone is as fake as the 2012 apocalypse. Debunked.”

Xin Xiaohe mimicked Zhang Shu’s arm-rubbing gesture, muttering. “I’m out, I’m out. I’d rather stay alive than be a fossil.”

Someone in the crowd, loving the drama, shouted, “So, Brother Shu, you’re saying no old flame, but what about new love?”

A gust of wind sent the bleacher flags flapping loudly. Zhang Shu glanced lazily at the back row, his languid voice carried off by the breeze.

“Isn’t building a beautiful China enough? Stop spreading rumors all day, get a life.”

Xin Xiaohe: …

Hou Junqi: …

Sheng Xia, drafting a newsletter for Class 6 in the back row to earn some moral education points, paused her pen at his words.

---

Linked Hoops took place in the center of the green field. Six classes competed per group, and though the first- and second-year races were done, the crowd lingered, surrounding the field three layers deep.

This group had Class 4 and Class 6, with a few ‘top idols’ from the recent confession wall posts present, prime gossip material.

“Is Sheng Xia barefaced?”

“Looks like it.”

“So fair-skinned.”

“Chen Mengyao’s prettier, though, right?”

“I don’t think so. Chen Mengyao’s got her hair down for a sports event, talk about idol baggage.”

“She’s basically an idol already, isn’t she?”

“Zhang Shu looks better with Sheng Xia. With Chen Mengyao, it’s like he’s the younger one.”

The chatter about Sheng Xia versus Chen Mengyao went on, but Sheng Xia, standing on the field, didn’t hear a word.

The sun blazed overhead. She and Zhang Shu stood side by side, silent, with enough space between them for another person.

Linked Hoops was a relay race, a back-and-forth sprint. Sheng Xia and Zhang Shu were the fourth leg, positioned behind the second, while the first, third, and fifth legs waited across the field.

Chen Mengyao was Class 4’s second leg, now standing just ahead of Sheng Xia to the left.

“A-Shu, go easy on me, okay?” Chen Mengyao called out to Zhang Shu while stretching.

Zhang Shu stood with his hands loosely on his hips. “We’re not running the same leg, how am I supposed to go easy?”

Chen Mengyao grinned. “You could just run slower.”

Zhang Shu chuckled. “Why should I?”

“Ugh, knew you’d say that,” Chen Mengyao rolled her eyes. “Boring.”

Even with the rejection, their banter sounded familiar, like old friends.

The whistle blew sharply, and the race began.

The first leg, running with hula hoops, sprinted from the opposite side. Class 6, running sideways, took the lead, and their second leg dashed off quickly.

Chen Mengyao turned. “A-Shu, your class is killing it. Now you really gotta go easy on me!”

Before Zhang Shu could respond, Class 4 started their handoff. Chen Mengyao called out, “See you on the other side!”

Zhang Shu didn’t reply, glancing at the person beside him.

The sun lit up her face, fair and smooth, like polished jade.

Sheng Xia stood calmly, with no trace of nerves or hint of any other emotion.

He shook his head, smiling wryly. What, think she’d be jealous?

He and Chen Mengyao had always bantered like this, but now he wondered if he should tone it down.

The announcer’s clear voice came over the speakers: “Next, we have a submission from Sheng Xia of Class 6…”

Heads turned toward Sheng Xia.

Even her classmates asked, “Xiaxia, when did you submit that?”

“Just now,” Sheng Xia said.

“Nice! That’s extra points!”

Sheng Xia nodded lightly. “Mm.”

Zhang Shu listened closely. The opening praised the event, with neat parallels and flowery language, perfect for the occasion.

“You can write anything, and so fast too?” Zhang Shu asked.

Sheng Xia froze.

They hadn’t spoken all day.

Why was he suddenly praising her in such an admiring, friendly tone?

Sheng Xia replied, “Not really.”

Zhang Shu said, “Impressive is impressive. No need to be modest.”

Nearby classmates exchanged raised eyebrows.

“They’re not even saying much, but why does it feel so… sticky?”

“You’re not the only one.”

Just then, the third leg came running, passing the hula hoop before crossing the line.

“Here we go,” Zhang Shu said, guiding Sheng Xia by the shoulders to turn her. He reached out, grabbed the hula hoop, slipped it over their heads, and said, “Let’s move.”

Back-to-back, they shuffled sideways toward the other side…

That reaction speed, that teamwork…

“Are they actually a thing?”

“Shipping them already.”

Midway through, Sheng Xia heard Zhang Shu’s voice from behind: “When you need to focus, don’t overthink. Ignore what others say, ignore what others do… Run your own race, that’s how you win.”

For a moment, Sheng Xia almost thought he was addressing the recent rumors, offering comfort. If not for that last line.

The last line was just about the race.

But Class 6 led by nearly a full leg. Keeping pace would’ve been enough to win, so why say it now? Sheng Xia couldn’t figure it out and didn’t want to read too much into it.

The announcer was still reading Sheng Xia’s draft: “…The most beautiful sunset appears during summer evening study sessions, the most resilient you shine on the track. Charge toward the finish line together, race with the spirit and grandeur of youth! A path of splendor and blooming flowers—let’s witness it together.”

Witness the flowers and the finish line together.

“Zhang Shu! Sheng Xia! Hurry! Class 1’s copying us, they’re catching up!” Zhou Xuanxuan’s anxious shout came from ahead.

Sheng Xia looked up. Sure enough, Class 1, on the far side, was running sideways too, nearly overtaking them.

Zhou Xuanxuan, frantic, stepped forward to grab the hoop herself. Zhang Shu, tall, hadn’t fully removed it, and her tug yanked it around his neck, pulling him back.

Zhang Shu spun agilely but couldn’t keep his balance, toppling forward.

Realizing Sheng Xia’s back was right in front of him, he instinctively reached to brace the ground. But the momentum was too strong to stop.

It happened in a flash. Sheng Xia felt a force slam into her back, pushing her toward the ground. The hoop fell, tangling her knees, and with her legs locked, she fell hard, a sharp scrape sounded.

Pain! 

A white flash seared her vision.

In that moment, Sheng Xia felt the world slip away for a second.

She thought she might just die like this.

“Sheng Xia!”

“Sheng Xia!”

“Xiaxia!”

Chaos erupted, voices overlapping in panic. She felt her body being turned over.

She saw Zhang Shu above her, propping himself up, his face pale with panic.

People crowded around—familiar faces, strangers…

Her senses returned, and she traced the source of the pain.

Her right leg. Excruciating, unbearable pain. She couldn’t move it.

“Sheng Xia, are you okay?” Zhang Shu knelt beside her, scanning her up and down to check for injuries.

Her lips were white, her gaze unfocused, her forehead beaded with sweat.

She didn’t look like she’d just taken a simple fall.

“Sheng Xia!” Zhang Shu called again.

Xin Xiaohe pushed through the crowd, reaching to help Sheng Xia up, but Zhang Shu snapped, “Don’t move her!”

Xin Xiaohe said anxiously, “What do we do? Xiaxia, are you okay? Zhang Shu, you idiot, this isn’t how you win!”

Zhang Shu seemed deaf to her. “She might have a bone injury. Don’t move her.” He turned to Hou Junqi. “Get the school medic!”

“Right, right!”

Zhang Shu’s eyes returned to Sheng Xia, scanning her face. He unconsciously brushed her cheek. “Can you talk?”

His hand was cold.

Sheng Xia tried to speak, but her ‘I can’ came out as: “Hurts…”

“Okay, okay, don’t talk…” Zhang Shu’s brows knitted tightly as he wiped the sweat from her forehead.

Sheng Xia’s eyes fluttered shut, her jaw clenched, pain blurring her consciousness.

The crowd watched their closeness, exchanging glances but staying quiet—no one was tactless enough to gossip now.

Zhou Xuanxuan was near tears. “Mengyao…”

Sheng Xia wouldn’t think she did it intentionally, would she? Especially after their recent clash.

Chen Mengyao squeezed her hand to calm her. Her own attention, though, was fixed on Zhang Shu’s tense profile.

That look—worry, pained, panicked yet trying to stay composed—was something she’d never seen on his usually carefree face.

The school medic arrived quickly from the dispatch room, followed by teachers: the PE teacher, Wang Wei, and a few vaguely familiar faces, all talking over each other.

“It’s a fracture, but we can’t say how bad without a hospital visit,” the medic said, asking Sheng Xia, “Anywhere else hurt?”

The worst of the pain had dulled slightly. Sheng Xia opened her eyes slowly, moved her arms, and shook her head. “No… nothing else…”

“Clear out, don’t crowd her. She needs to go to a hospital.”

“Should we get a stretcher?”

“It’s her lower leg. Can’t extend it. A stretcher won't do, better to keep the leg still and lift her carefully.”

The medic scanned the group, about to pick a few to help lift her.

Zhang Shu said to Xin Xiaohe, “Support her leg.”

Then he slid an arm under Sheng Xia’s shoulders, hooked another under her knees, and lifted her horizontally.

To avoid jostling her, he rose slowly, far more taxing than if he’d scooped her up quickly.

His arms tensed, neck muscles straining.

It wasn’t the time for stray thoughts, but the crowd couldn’t help whispering.

“Holy…”

“Boyfriend energy maxed out.”

Sheng Xia didn’t know where to put her hands. Beyond the pain, a tingling sensation spread through her body, like an electric current.

Zhou Xuanxuan was a wreck, her voice breaking. “Mengyao, what do I do…”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t on purpose,” Chen Mengyao said, stepping forward. “A-Shu, Xuanxuan, she—”

“Quiet! Make way!”

Zhang Shu’s voice was low, urgent, not a shout, but might as well be. His sharp gaze parted the crowd as he carried Sheng Xia toward the field exit.

Chen Mengyao froze. Zhou Xuanxuan stopped sobbing, stunned.

The crowd murmured, agreeing it wasn’t the time to butt in.

Zhang Shu wasn’t targeting anyone, he was just anxious, concern overriding all else.

He moved quickly but steadily. Sheng Xia glanced up, seeing sweat in his hairline.

After a few steps, her body started to slip. Zhang Shu looked down. “You need to hold onto me.” He couldn’t adjust her position abruptly; it’d hurt her leg.

Sheng Xia: …

Her peripheral vision caught the stares from all directions. Giving up, she buried her face in his chest—out of sight, out of mind—and slowly wrapped her arms around his neck.

---

X-rays, diagnosis, waiting for a cast.

Wang Wei and Xin Xiaohe also came along. Wang Wei and Zhang Shu handled the paperwork, while Xin Xiaohe stayed with Sheng Xia.

Li Xu arrived, saying Sheng Mingfeng was in a meeting but would come later.

Wang Lianhua was also rushing over from work.

There wasn’t much left to do, just waiting and maybe a scolding or two.

Soon, the hospital director arrived, trailed by the department head and a few doctors.

They called from the doorway, “Director Li?”

Li Xu turned, signaled for quiet, and followed them out. Wang Wei went too.

The room was left with just the three teenagers.

The door closed softly, but snippets of conversation drifted through the crack—words like “party secretary,” “municipal concern,” “health bureau,” “insurance,” the kind only heard on news broadcasts.

Xin Xiaohe was overwhelmed, glancing at Zhang Shu. He leaned against the window, expressionless, betraying no particular emotion.

The department head personally applied Sheng Xia’s cast, saying it wasn’t too serious but needed seven weeks minimum.

Sheng Mingfeng, done with his meeting, was picked up by Li Xu. The doctors gave a flurry of instructions before leaving.

Soon after, Wang Wei had school matters to handle and prepared to leave, asking if Xin Xiaohe and Zhang Shu wanted a ride.

Xin Xiaohe said, “I’ll stay to help. What if Xiaxia needs the bathroom or something?”

Wang Wei nodded. “Alright. Call me if you need anything. Zhang Shu, are you heading back?”

Zhang Shu replied, “I’ll go back on my own.”

Wang Wei figured it was fine to leave someone to run errands.

But Sheng Xia spoke up: “You should go, Zhang Shu.”

“Thanks for today, but I… don’t need anything now,” she added.

Her tone was cold, her eyes never meeting his.

Not even a glance.

She said—

I don’t need you anymore.

---

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