Volume 1 / Chapter 83: Answering Questions

The very last event of the day was the mixed-gender relay race.

Each runner had to complete one lap, handing off the baton to the next teammate.

There were four runners per team, each running 100 meters.

Wáng Jiālè ran the first leg. Among the girls, she was one of the fastest, though her endurance wasn’t the best—400 meters was already her upper limit.

But then again, was 400 meters really considered a sprint?

“Bang!”

“Let’s go!”

Since this was the final event of the school sports day, even the students who had been idly lounging around gathered around the field.

The atmosphere reached its peak—lively cheers erupted across the track, the noise almost deafening.

With a roar from the crowd, the first runners from each class in Year One launched forward.

Rǔikōng High’s mixed-gender relay had no requirement for the order of runners.

In other words, it was entirely up to each class whether a boy or girl ran first.

So from the first lap alone, the differences in speed seemed enormous—since some were boys and others were girls.

Still, Wáng Jiālè was fast. Surprisingly fast. She managed to keep pace—barely—with the fastest boy runner in the first leg. Dressed in a cheerleader outfit, she looked like a streak of lightning skimming the ground, like a somersault cloud darting ahead.

“So this is… the advantage of being flat-chested, huh…” Huā Yínyín muttered to herself.

Drenched in sweat, she insisted on leaning against Mò Xuěyáo , making the latter sigh helplessly.

“Huā Yínyín, you’re burning up…”

“What, too hot for you? Want me to warm your bed tonight?” she teased.

“What are you even saying…” Mò Xuěyáo grumbled, her eyelids drooping in mild exasperation.

Meanwhile, the sisters Mo Xiǎoxiào and Mo Zhúyōu were shouting themselves hoarse cheering for Wáng Jiālè as she tore down the track.

But by the final stretch of her lap, Wáng Jiālè was clearly winded.

Her best event had always been the 200-meter dash.

The fastest boy had finally pulled ahead, and the runner in third place had caught up.

Still, Wáng Jiālè managed to stay slightly ahead and handed the baton to the second runner—Lǐ Hóngrǎn.

—But unexpectedly, something went wrong. Whether Wáng Jiālè didn’t pass it properly or Lǐ Hóngrǎn didn’t receive it right, the baton slipped from Lǐ Hóngrǎn’s hand and was about to hit the ground.

If it dropped and rolled a few meters, they could kiss their relay goodbye.

If they were lucky, they might not be dead last—but second-to-last was likely.

Unless other teams messed up too.

But Lǐ Hóngrǎn’s reflexes were faster than anyone expected. He flicked the baton up with his foot like a shuttlecock, catching it cleanly in mid-air. Though it cost them a second, they still had hope.

“Go!” Liú Xiǎowěi and the others cheered from the sidelines.

“Go!” Lǐ Hóngrǎn shouted too, as if yelling would launch him forward. And just like a car with its gas pedal floored, he tore down the track at top speed with barely any acceleration.

And this was the same guy who had just finished the 1,500-meter long-distance run!

Though he’d had a ten-minute break, Gāo Yuán was still sprawled on the ground gasping like a dying dog.

The third runner was Ān Ruòsù , a boy about 1.72 meters tall with excellent athletic ability. His sleek form and graceful sprint caught the eyes of many girls who immediately began asking about him.

“He’s not too tall or too skinny, not too chubby either, and kind of handsome! Who is he from Class 2?”

“What, thinking of chasing him? Go ask Class 2~”

“I just think he runs so cool!”

“What about that tall guy from before? He wasn’t cool?”

“He was fast, sure, but he looked more like the Beast from Beauty and the Beast when he ran…”

Actually, “Beast” sounded like a pretty cool nickname.

That crossed Mò Xuěyáo’s mind as she saw Ān Ruòsù handing off to the final runner—Qiū Yuánlíng.

Class 2 had caught up to the other leading class, the one with two members from the school’s athletic team—a boy and a girl.

That class had already lapped most of the others.

Only Class 2 was hanging on close behind.

And once again, Qiū Yuánlíng made the final push.

Because in a relay, it’s a team effort. Just having two fast runners wasn’t enough to guarantee a win.

“Class 2 takes first!” Their homeroom teacher Yè Wén shouted joyfully, standing among the students like one of them.

And with that, the mixed relay ended with Class 2 claiming first place in their grade.

The awards ceremony was swift and efficient. The principal—who had returned from studying abroad—seemed to despise wasting time and handled everything with speed.

No long-winded speeches, just announcements of the awards, photos with the winners, and a few encouraging words.

Nothing excessive or dragged out.

In the end, Class 2 ranked second overall for the grade. First place went to Class 7.

It was a bit disappointing, but everyone still felt the day had been fun and fulfilling.

---

“Class monitor, want to go home together after school?” After dismissal, as students began leaving freely, Mò Xuěyáo approached Lǐ Wǎnyán. “I’m heading to the fruit shop too.”

Mainly because no one would be home right now. At least at the shop, her dad would be there—no need to worry about dinner.

“Sure…” But before Lǐ Wǎnyán could finish, Yè Wén’s voice called from a distance.

“Class rep—stay behind for a bit~!”

“Ugh, okay.” Lǐ Wǎnyán looked at Mò Xuěyáo with a helpless expression.

“No worries, I’ll wait for you. My bike can carry you home.” The school wasn’t far from the shop, and Mò Xuěyáo didn’t mind wasting a little time.

“It’s something important,” Yè Wén said as she walked over. “It’s about your parents. Might take about an hour.”

“One hour? Then, Xuěyáo, you go on ahead.”

“Alright.” One hour was too long. Even if there wasn’t homework today, Mò Xuěyáo wasn’t used to staying late after school. So she nodded and left.

“Why are you living at Xuěyáo’s place instead of the dorms?” Even though she already knew about it, Yè Wén still found it odd.

“Hmm… Let’s talk in your office,” Lǐ Wǎnyán said softly after glancing around.

“Sure.”

On the way, Lǐ Wǎnyán was quiet, and it was Yè Wén trying to keep the conversation going.

“You don’t miss your parents?” she eventually asked.

“…Not really.” Lǐ Wǎnyán lowered her gaze, staring at her toes. “They don’t feel like my parents.”

“They did raise you though…”

“…”

“Well, the police will ask you some questions soon. Your parents have lost all contact with friends and family—they’re officially considered missing. There’s a chance something… serious may have happened.”

At that, two dreams flashed through Lǐ Wǎnyán’s mind.

She didn’t doubt that her dad was the kind of scumbag who would abandon her.

But her mom… while not a good mother, still wouldn’t just disappear like that.

That doubt had been gnawing at her ever since.

She could suppress it while awake, but in her dreams—there was no escape.

Those nightmares were the truest expression of her fears, her dread, her anxiety.

“So, why don’t you want to live in the dorms?”

“…I don’t really like sharing a room with lots of people.”

“That’s fine—if you want, we can assign you a solo dorm. Ān Ruòsù lives alone too. There are plenty of empty rooms. It’s totally doable.” Yè Wén gently patted her head. “But what’s the real reason?”

Lǐ Wǎnyán sighed and forced a weak smile. “Maybe I just… want a place that feels like home.”

“But to Xuěyáo’s family, you’re still an outsider.”

“…Yeah, but at least it feels like home. And since I live in the back of their fruit shop, I don’t get in the way.”

“So each day, before the shop closes, you can enjoy that family atmosphere—is that it?” Yè Wén asked.

“…Yes.”

“Well, it’s your choice, and the school won’t force you. But living in a dorm could offer you more protection. Anyway, I’ve applied for financial aid for you—full tuition waiver and a small living stipend. After all, staying in someone else’s home indefinitely isn’t ideal.”

“Isn’t school aid also ‘someone else’s’ support?” Lǐ Wǎnyán joked weakly, though her mood clearly wasn’t light.

“That’s government support. It’s what students like you deserve. It’s different from personal charity.”

“…Mm.”

“Alright, don’t be nervous. We’re here. The police should already be inside.”

Yè Wén opened the office door. No other teachers were present—just three officers, two men and one woman.

“Hello,” the woman said kindly, nodding at Lǐ Wǎnyán. “You’re Lǐ Wǎnyán, correct? We’d like to ask you a few questions. Please answer truthfully, alright?”

“Okay.”

“When did your mother go missing?”

“October 11th. She was gone when I got home from school.”

“And your father?”

“I didn’t see him again after waking up on the 12th.”

“When did you stop living at home?”

“On the 13th… I didn’t dare go back.” Lǐ Wǎnyán’s voice trembled slightly.

She seemed to recall something terrifying.

Then she took a deep breath to steady herself. “That morning, I saw people with knives heading toward my house… I was buying breakfast by the roadside at the time.”

“Did you recognize any of them?”

“No.”

“Can you describe their appearance?”

“...I… I don’t remember.”

“Alright, then…”

One question after another dragged her deeper into painful memories.

By the end of the hour, her entire body was drenched in cold sweat.

No matter how calm she usually seemed—she was still just a child.

And the things she’d been through… were already terrifying enough.

After all, no one could predict what those lurking in society’s darkest corners were truly capable of.