Shen Zhifei suppressed his nervousness, composed himself, and said, "You can ask me if you have any questions, but you can't copy."
“Oh,” Song Lang remembered his purpose and told Shen Zhifei his thoughts, “What do you think we should reply to this letter?”
Shen Zhifei pondered for a moment and said, "Your improvement in the exam is the result of your talent and hard work. What does it have to do with her?"
"Ah..." Song Lang scratched his head, "I have a talent for learning?"
“In short, don’t write any letters,” Shen Zhifei emphasized. “There’s no need.”
"Oh... alright." Song Lang gave up. Putting aside his writing skills, his handwriting was so messy it was almost like a dog's scratch, so his reply was hardly presentable.
"Is there anything else?" Shen Zhifei gripped the letter tightly, his palms damp with a thin layer of sweat. "I'm going to sleep."
"It's alright, go to sleep early." After saying goodnight to him, Song Lang was still thinking about the letter when he returned to his room.
He hadn't looked closely, only catching a few words.
He emptied his bag and looked through the letters Lin Qian had given him one by one. He counted them and there were 27 in total, and the dates were correct.
So, does that mean the letter was a love letter from another girl to Shen Zhifei?
Shen Zhifei's strong reaction just now must have been because she was shy.
Song Lang thought about it more and more and felt that his reasoning was very reliable, and decided to find out who the girl who had a crush on his brother was.
Chapter 009
A week later, the school's autumn sports meet kicked off with the opening whistle.
Song Lang reluctantly put on the sumo wrestling inflatable suit that the class had bought together, and followed the class team toward the podium with a cold expression.
From afar, a group of large, fat men swayed and staggered into the field, and everyone on the playground burst into laughter.
Song Lang deeply regretted refusing the sports committee's request to hold up the sign without saying a word.
He glanced at Shen Zhifei, who was walking at the front of the group. His brother was wearing a clean white tracksuit, holding the class flag high. His back was straight and handsome, and he seemed to be from a completely different dimension from them.
After the sand sculpture activity, various sports competitions began one after another.
Song Lang was singled out by his homeroom teacher and required to participate in the project. The teacher's exact words are as follows.
“Our classmate Song Lang rushes out as soon as the bell rings after class every day. It’s clear that he’s passionate about running. How can he miss such a great opportunity to show off his skills at the sports meet? Sports committee member, register Song Lang. Fill in all the races related to running, such as 400, 800, 1000, 3000 meters.”
Song Lang quickly backed down and pleaded with the sports committee member to show leniency and only sign him up for the 100-meter race.
He is tall with long legs, has strong explosive power, and is a habitual offender who was punished by his physical education teacher to run laps since he was a child. He made it into the finals with just a casual run.
Before the final began, Song Lang craned his neck and looked into the crowd at the end of the track for a long time, but Shen Zhifei was not there.
He breathed a sigh of relief; after the run, he could sneak off to an internet cafe to play games.
"preparation--"
As soon as the gun fired, several young men shot off like arrows. Song Lang didn't go all out and controlled his pace to finish fourth, so he didn't have to waste time going to the podium.
As he reached the finish line, bent over and panting, a bottle of water was handed to him.
The person's wrist was white and slender, and it wore a silver chain that shone brightly in the sunlight.
He looked up and saw Lin Qian.
"Thank you." Song Lang straightened up, took the water, tilted his head back, and gulped down a few mouthfuls. He then walked a few steps alongside Lin Qian along the track. "Don't you have any events to compete in?"
Lin Qian shook her head. "No, I read from the prepared remarks on the podium."
She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, tilted her head to look up at him, and smiled shyly, "Have I...read all the letters I gave you?"
The sunlight seemed too strong, making Song Lang's face feel hot. He scratched his head and hummed softly.
Lin Qian didn't press further. Instead, she took a letter out of her pocket and handed it to him. "This is the last letter I'm writing. Please be sure to read it."
Song Lang took it and opened his mouth to say something, but Lin Qian waved to him, "I have to go back quickly, bye-bye, I'll wait for your answer."
Watching her run off, Song Lang glanced down at the envelope in his hand, deciding to find a quieter place to read it again.
Suddenly a gust of hot wind rushed from behind him. He bent down to dodge, and Meng Fanxing missed her target, almost falling flat on her face.
"Damn, you managed to dodge that." Meng Fanxing, still unwilling to give up, hooked her arm around his shoulder again.
Song Langte slapped his hand away in disgust, "Stay away, it's hot."
Meng Fanxing rolled her eyes at him, "You're such a womanizer. Lin, the beautiful lady, was so close to you just now, why didn't you complain about being hot?"
"How can that be the same?" Song Lang slung his coat over his shoulder, tilted his head, and gave him a quick nod to avoid being seen by Fei Fei.
"Let's go, let's go."
Meng Fanxing strode after him toward the edge of the playground, glancing back every now and then, clearly feeling guilty.
The two sneaked to the wall of the small woods on the east side of the school, and nimbly climbed over the wall. There was an internet cafe less than 300 meters away.
They were regulars. When they entered the internet cafe, Meng Fanxing needed to urinate and went to the toilet first. Song Lang walked to the counter, took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and handed it to the internet cafe manager.
"Hey, you're always so polite," the internet cafe manager said with a smile, pulling out a cigarette and offering it back. "Want one?"
“I don’t know how,” Song Lang reached over and took two lollipops from the bar, then smiled as he took the internet card. “Thanks, bro.”
"What are you thanking me for? Just let me know next time you come, and I'll save you the best seats." The internet cafe manager, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, smiled very politely.