After Being Reborn, I Had A Bad Ending With My First Love. - Chapter 13
Outside the infirmary, the sharp sound of the whistle from the sports field landed at the same time as the final syllable of Yan Sui’s sentence.
The loud shouts from the field came in waves, but when they reached the infirmary door they seemed to hit some invisible barrier and abruptly stopped. Inside was silence—a world completely different from the noisy playground outside.
Yan Sui stood on the other side of the curtain.
Separated from Yu Shuli by a thin fabric, she couldn’t see his expression.
But just from the heavy, still air between them, Yan Sui could already guess what look must be on his face.
Before he could react, she yanked the curtain aside with a sharp swish.
She was quick. In that instant when the curtain opened, she caught every detail of the panic and bewilderment flashing across Yu Shuli’s face.
She didn’t want to wait—she wanted to see his real expression before he could put the mask back on. She wanted to read his heart through his face.
To know the secret he was hiding.
Yan Sui raised her chin slightly.
“Go on—where did you hear that I was running the 3,000 meters?”
Her eyes lifted; the chill in them was laid bare for Yu Shuli to see.
“Or should I ask—what exactly are you hiding, Yu Shuli?”
Yan Sui running the 3,000 meters in the high school sports meet belonged to her previous life.
It had been an accident in the sports meet of her last life.
On the first day of the previous sports meet, at noon, Chen Ling—who was supposed to run the 3,000-meter preliminary that afternoon—sprained her ankle while delivering materials to a teacher in the office. She couldn’t run.
The class athletic rep learned that this time only eight girls were entered in the 3,000 meters. That meant if you simply showed up and finished the race, you’d secure a certificate and points for the class.
The rep didn’t want to miss out on those “free” points. But faced with Chen Ling’s ankle—swollen like a steamed bun—he couldn’t possibly tell her to go run anyway.
He paced circles around Chen Ling, groaning dramatically, wishing he could throw on a wig and run it for her himself.
Yan Sui didn’t know what had gotten into their usually laid-back athletic rep, but seeing him wail like that was unbearable. She raised a hand, cutting him off:
“Stop.”
The wailing stopped. Both Chen Ling and the rep turned to her.
Yan Sui tugged at the corner of her lips.
“Don’t howl anymore. I’ll run the 3,000 for Chen Ling.”
As soon as she said it, the rep’s expression shifted visibly to delight.
But behind that smile… had she glimpsed a trace of slyness?
Whatever it was, once she’d agreed in front of him, there was no taking it back.
Standing on the track later, regret welled up inside her.
Just thinking about the number of laps ahead made her legs tremble under her school pants.
The whistle blew; she snapped back to herself and bent down into the starting stance.
“Bang!”—the gun went off. Together with seven others, she surged forward.
The rep and Chen Ling had told her she only needed to finish the race to earn the points; after all, she’d been subbed in barely an hour before the start.
Yan Sui thought the same: just finish, earn the points, and she’d have done her job.
But as she finished the first lap and passed her class’s seating area, she heard her name shouted again and again—each followed by a synchronized “Jiayou!”
Head ducked, cheeks burning, she kept running. Beneath the embarrassment, something warmer stirred—an emotion she couldn’t name.
At that moment she began to understand why the rep cared so much about class honor during the sports meet.
Maybe moved by that “honor,” Yan Sui raised her internal goalpost higher. Her focus shifted wholly to the race, eyes locked on the runner ahead.
Then—
At the curve, she sped up and passed her.
She passed another, then a third.
By the third lap, her legs were heavy as lead, every step mechanical and numb.
But the cheers in her ears never stopped, keeping her from slowing.
She didn’t know when Yu Shuli had appeared beside her, running along the track with her.
Startled, she looked at him. He just raised an eyebrow and winked, signaling her to focus.
She didn’t know when he’d started accompanying her, only that throughout the race she heard the announcer on the podium repeatedly calling “No running alongside!”
But the boy at her side never left.
He dodged every attempt to stop him, kept pace with her step for step.
When she crossed the finish line, Yu Shuli was there to catch her.
And then she blacked out.
When she woke up again, she was lying on a cot in the school infirmary.
Beside her stood Chen Ling, the rep, Tan Shu, and Yu Shuli—the boy who had run the whole race with her.
Before the sports meet, she and Yu Shuli had already been friends.
After their accidental meeting in the urban village, their connection had grown through the choir.
Sometimes, because of Tan Shu’s friendship with Yu Shuli, the three of them even hung out together.
But up until then, they’d only been ordinary friends.
After the sports meet, Yu Shuli was scolded by the grade director for running alongside her.
Yet because of that race, something subtle shifted between them.
Later, when Yan Sui looked back and asked herself when she had started to have feelings for Yu Shuli, the scene from that day floated into her mind:
The boy running beside her, his profile haloed in sunlight, the gentleness and resolve in his brow—those became the foundation of her feelings.
That unplanned hug at the finish line was also the first time she caught the fresh soap scent on him.
In her previous life, she’d agreed to run for Chen Ling at noon on the first day.
In this life, that time point hadn’t yet arrived—so why had Yu Shuli asked her if she was running the 3,000 meters that afternoon?
Meeting her cold gaze, Yu Shuli’s panic deepened.
Yan Sui took in his reaction fully. Her certainty grew—he was hiding something from her.
And the answer to that secret might explain why, in this life, he kept appearing at moments he hadn’t in the last one.
Pressing her lips together, Yan Sui stood silently before him, waiting for his answer.
After a long moment, she saw Yu Shuli let out a deep breath, his shoulders sinking visibly.
“I just asked a casual question—why so serious? You’re scaring me.”
The joking tone lightly covered her pointed interrogation.
“What do you mean?” Yan Sui asked.
Yu Shuli put his hands together in a mock-apology gesture.
“Sorry, sorry. I asked your class’s athletic rep what events you had this afternoon. He told me you were running the 3,000 meters, so I wanted to cheer you on.
“I shouldn’t have gone asking about you without your permission. I’m sorry.”
Yan Sui frowned, unconvinced.
“I’m not running the 3,000. Why would he tell you I was?”
“I don’t know. Yesterday after school I went to your classroom to wait for him so we could go play ball. I casually asked who was running the 3,000, and he pointed at you.”
Yan Sui didn’t understand. She clearly wasn’t entered in the race—why would the rep say she was?
While Yu Shuli spoke, she watched every flicker of his expression, not missing a single twitch.
But his face didn’t look fake. She saw no nervousness that might betray a lie.
“If you don’t believe me, you can ask your class’s athletic rep yourself,” Yu Shuli said.
His words seemed like water poured over the fire of her suspicion.
Her gaze swept slowly over his face, searching for any unnatural sign that could topple his story.
But she found nothing.
His expression was calm, his eyes meeting hers steadily, letting her examine him.
It was like a battle with no smoke or fire; in the face of his composure, her suspicion lost.
Just then, the classmate Tan Shu had mentioned—Cheng Jia—hurried in. Seeing Tan Shu at Yu Shuli’s side, he hesitated.
“Uh… am I interrupting something?”
Yan Sui turned to him.
“You’re his classmate?”
“Uh… yeah. And you are—?”
“A friend of Tan Shu’s.” Yan Sui tilted her chin lightly toward Yu Shuli.
“Tan Shu was worried he’d faint, so she asked me to keep an eye on him. She said if you came, take him to the school gate—she’ll meet you there with a teacher and take you both to the hospital.”
“Oh, I see.”
Cheng Jia strode to Yu Shuli and tugged his arm.
“Then come on.”
Yu Shuli didn’t move.
“What, you wanna wait till the bl00d runs dry before going to the hospital?” Cheng Jia pulled harder and got him to stand.
Yu Shuli had no choice but to go with him. Passing by Yan Sui, he paused.
“I’m heading out then.”
Yan Sui nodded.
“Mm, go ahead.”
“So about just now…” Yu Shuli’s voice trailed.
Yan Sui didn’t answer directly.
“I understand.”
Light and unreadable, her reply gave no clue to her mood.
Yu Shuli stood before her, wanting to speak, but in the end said nothing and left with Cheng Jia.
After he was gone, Yan Sui stayed where she was.
Thinking of his reaction just now, her feelings were complicated.
“In that short time, were you able to read his heart?” Feeling the system’s signal in her mind, Yan Sui asked without hesitation.
“Sorry, Host. My permissions haven’t reached the level where I can see into him.”
Yan Sui sighed.
“His words didn’t show signs of lying, but that initial panic makes me think it’s not as simple as he says.”
She paused, then spoke firmly.
“I still think he’s hiding something.”
“Host, whether Yu Shuli lied can be verified. Every effect has a cause. Since he gave that explanation, we can check with the other party to see the truth. My current permissions still work on non-main characters.”
Yan Sui suddenly asked,
“System, I’ve always wanted to ask you something.”
“Please ask, Host.”
“Are you a real person, or just a string of code?”
“…”
When no answer came, Yan Sui realized her question might have been impolite and didn’t press further.
It was just—sometimes when the system reasoned out a result, it was like watching a program run, lines of code producing an answer.
But occasionally, when she spoke with it, she faintly sensed a trace of emotion in its words.
If it were only a machine, it shouldn’t have emotions… should it?