Chapter 21: Setback

The principal announced a spring sports meet in two weeks. Before recess, the class rep rushed in, brainstorming entrance ideas—each class enters in a themed formation, scoring points.
A school tradition—once just slogans and flags, now high – tech (drone, balance bike).
The rep, prioritizing the final exam, wanted a core group—most practice less, just have fun.
Lin Sitian didn’t care—focused on pretending to be just deskmates. After class, packing up, after thirteen awkward glances, Zhou Sheng spoke—
“You make me nervous.”
She feigned ignorance. “Who’s nervous? You?”
Zhou Sheng smiled, patting her head.
“See you afternoon.”
She arrived late—class had decided the performance.
Boys: Glow stick dance. Girls: twelve in COS, dancing “Love Cycle”—new, suiting her otaku taste.
“Imagining you with a Glow stick —so excited!” Lin Sitian stared at Zhou Sheng at break. He wore black – framed glasses—dorky but cute to her.
“I’m not participating.”
“Huh?”
“Not in the formation—I’ll host at the rostrum. The radio club is short – handed.”
Disappointed, she sighed.
The radio club always uses him—reliable, quick – thinking, good voice.
Top students excel in all—”other people’s kids”.
Lin Sitian sighed.
“What?”
“Skip practice?”
“Mm—preparing for the math Olympiad.”
“Olympiad?”
“School recommended me—my math scores deserve it.”
She feared problems would “steal” him—more lost.
Lying on the desk, sunlight hit his hand—bones slender, almost transparent.
Her Fingertip crawled to his, tapping with a pinky.
He tensed, glancing, then hooked her pinky.
Warmth spread—heart racing.
“You today…”
Nervous, she buried her face.
“No—distracted.”
She’d daydreamed.
Next day, self – study—practicing the dance with girls.
Unlucky—chosen by the rep (recommended by Yuan Xiao: “cute girls suit it”).
Costumes: cat ears—affordable.
She danced before—now messed up.
“Lin Sitian—wrong position.”
“Slow move—”
“Leg out more—hard to see!”
“Lin Sitian…”
After class, her name was called more than failing monthly tests.
Classmate: “It’s okay—practice more.”
Yuan Xiao: “Dance properly—synchronized errors show.”
She tried—no slacking.
Days passed—still criticized. Finally, she spoke.
“I practice daily—tired…” Yuan Xiao apologized, ending early.
Others: “Keep practicing—next week’s the meet.”
She hesitated. “I…didn’t mean that.”
“Sorry” stuck in her throat—bitter.
Zhou Sheng was busy—late, the teaching building empty.
He heard music—saw her dancing, seriously like a performance.
She seemed to cry—tears glistening, biting lips.
He stood, watching.
She finished, gasping—about to retry.
“Lin Sitian.”
Startled, she wiped eyes.
“Forgot you’re here.”
He approached. “Sorry—busy, couldn’t send you.”
She smiled, eyes red.
“Okay—competition.”
He hugged her.
“…Zhou Sheng?”
“How long would you dance?”
“Not long—grandma would scold.”
“Send you home?”
“Okay.”
They stood—no move.
Her shoulders shook—he felt her tears.
“Dance practice…I can’t do it right.”
He frowned. “You remember moves—what’s wrong?”
“I try—follow rhythm, but always me. No answers like math—can’t fix. Only me…” She sobbed.
“Don’t call yourself dumb.” Zhou Sheng said. “Feeling dumb makes you dumb—I never thought so. Like midterms—you studied, passed.”
“Same here—think differently, like solving problems.”
Her heart sank—so “Zhou Sheng”.
A “grunt” broke the mood.
He laughed—she hit him.
“Still crying!” She clutched his uniform.
“Jumping makes you hungry.” He patted her. “Kanto cooking?”
“Fried chicken.”
“Greasy oil…”
“Who cares.”