Bone-Attached Disaster - Chapter 14:

Chapter 14: Limits

Dai Xin felt both helpless and bitter, wearing an expression of regret for a promising talent gone astray. He stood up and closed the office door.

“Do you know why Fu Jia’an’s health is so poor?”

Lu Jie looked detached. “I don’t know.”

“He was diagnosed with a brain tumor at birth and was… abandoned by his biological parents,” Dai Xin continued. “Such a small child, left at the entrance of the Municipal Second Hospital. He was later adopted by a chief neurosurgeon, the current Mrs. Fu, who took a risk to perform the surgery, which is why he survived.”

“It’s not easy for a child like this to grow up healthy. He has to take many medications for the rest of his life. And his extraordinary intelligence is probably the other window God opened for him…”

“Fu Jia’an has only sporadically attended a few years of school in his life and isn’t very good at interacting with people. Can you be more tolerant of him for your uncle’s sake?”

So that was it.

All the favoritism, pity, gentleness, and special treatment seemed to have a reason. This kind of killer secret, a heartbreaking truth that would make any inherently kind 18-year-old feel guilty, was expected to work on Lu Jie.

But Lu Jie didn’t feel guilty.

Selfish, jealous, petty. Since he had been labeled with these tags, he deliberately didn’t want to clear up the misunderstanding. His neck felt painfully constricted, all the surging bl00d seemed to be clotting in his throat. Despite his immense discomfort, he put on a stubborn and unreceptive front, saying, “Just because he’s young and weak, everyone has to protect him? Give in to him? If he’s so fragile, why not just put him in an incubator and let him live there?”

Without waiting for Dai Xin to speak, Lu Jie straightened his expression. “Seriously, is your excessive protection of Fu Jia’an because you genuinely care for him, or are you afraid of something happening to him at school?”

“……”

“If it’s the latter, I suggest you contact his parents directly and invite his family to watch the race. Then, no matter what happens, the responsibility won’t fall on you.”

“If it’s genuine care,” Lu Jie paused, his mind recalling the sight of Fu Jia’an shooting the last basket under the sunset. So happy, so proud. The wind had blown his bangs away, making him look so… vital and energetic for a 16-year-old.

The triumph of successfully playing a trick, the shyness caused by the boisterous cheers—those unwritten emotions were magically conveyed to Lu Jie’s heart.

Lu Jie recalled the moment he raised Fu Jia’an’s arm to sign him up for the long-distance run.

It wasn’t really about revenge. It was a yearning for the thrill of a closely matched competition, a heart-pounding sensation Lu Jie hadn’t felt in years. Being at odds with Fu Jia’an was like repeatedly rubbing a sore spot—irresistible.

How could the Fu Jia’an that Lu Jie deemed worthy of being an opponent be as fragile as Dai Xin claimed?

“If it’s genuine care,” Lu Jie continued, “then you’re seriously underestimating Fu Jia’an. He’s more confident than he looks, and a smart child won’t put himself in danger.”

For the following week, Lu Jie always noticed Fu Jia’an arriving very early before morning study. He also heard people say they saw Fu Jia’an running on the field, doing a few laps every day before coming to class.

“He’s not running fast,” people muttered, half-suspicious and half-curious. “Is he really holding back some big move?”

Once, Lu Jie woke up a little earlier and saw Fu Jia’an running. He was indeed not fast. The first lap was at a steady pace, and then he gradually slowed down. Running that way, he probably wouldn’t break a sweat, but some signs still reflected a person’s physical activity.

For example, in the morning, Fu Jia’an’s cheeks would have a lingering blush, making his face look paler than usual, and his breathing would be slightly more noticeable. At the same time, Fu Jia’an didn’t fall asleep as easily and could generally stay focused for two or three classes.

The person seemed to gradually transform from a wisp of detached wind into a tangible cloud with warmth.

The sports meet was scheduled for Thursday and Friday. The relay race was on the first day, where Peng Yuan and Jiang Yan’s spectacular comeback in the final two legs secured Class 1 the school-wide first place.

On Friday afternoon, at the tail end of the sports meet, the check-in for the 3000-meter long-distance run began. Only Fu Jia’an and Lu Jie left the classroom.

Lu Jie was number 26, Fu Jia’an was 25. They took their positions and crouched down at the command.

Lu Jie was right next to Fu Jia’an. Since he was on the outer lane, his starting position was slightly ahead. From Fu Jia’an’s perspective, he could clearly see Lu Jie’s leg muscles—long and firm, with clearly defined contours when he crouched, the result of daily, long-term training.

“If you can’t run anymore, just give up. No one will laugh at you.”

It was Lu Jie talking to him, his tone somewhat uninhibited, teasing, like a challenge.

Then Lu Jie turned back to look at Fu Jia’an and repeated seriously, “I said I won’t laugh at you.”

Boom, boom.

Fu Jia’an felt incredibly nervous, as if his chest was about to explode, pushing his limits. He wasn’t sure if the sound was the countdown to the starting gun.

BANG!

Fu Jia’an reacted instantly, launching his body forward at the fastest speed. Distantly, he glanced at Lu Jie. In the blink of an eye, the other boy was already more than half a lap ahead of him, having long left the second-place runner far behind.

Fu Jia’an had practiced speed control many times and knew his physical limits so well. Yet, seeing Lu Jie’s back, he couldn’t help but speed up, pressing the accelerator like driving a car about to fall apart on the edge of a cliff.

He had prepared himself to finish last, but watching those tall, strong boys speed past him like hurricanes, a feeling of helplessness still arose in his heart.

The opening in his throat felt constricted, making it hard to draw air no matter how hard he tried. His internal organs felt twisted together, and the pain tore at him beneath his skin. Fu Jia’an felt as if he was shattering as he ran, his hard-earned state of stability being stripped down to the bone, making his previous self-deception more apparent.

What had he told himself at the beginning? To know his limits. Knowing perfectly well that no miracle would happen, knowing he couldn’t run the full distance, why was he still trying to prove himself?

Was he going to collapse in front of everyone like he did in middle school, drawing all the attention like a performance artist, only to be pitied?

He had to calm down and fully focus.

Just like that, Fu Jia’an adjusted his breathing as he had during practice, lowering his head and persevering, not even noticing who was passing him. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but the announcer holding the microphone on the stage began shouting—Lu Jie from Senior Year Class 1 was the first-place winner.

His heart pounded like thunder, intense and muffled, knocking against his eardrums through his bl00d vessels. Fu Jia’an was now running on the track directly opposite the finish line, half a lap behind Lu Jie, feeling his stamina nearing its limit.

Stop here. Fu Jia’an bent over, hands on his knees, breathing heavily. He wanted to look up and see Lu Jie’s proud and triumphant figure on the opposite side, but it was hard to straighten up.

Both his hands were shaking abnormally. His strength was draining away like sand, but this shouldn’t be happening. He was supposed to be running within his physical safety limits… Did I mess up after all?

“You’re stopping here?”

A tall shadow blocked his own shadow from the side, and a familiar voice reached his ear. The other person was like a hot fireball, blocking the wind that was turning his sweat icy cold in the bleak autumn chill.

The boy who should have been at the center of the crowd receiving applause and congratulations had crossed the entire field at some point and stood by his side.

“I said I wouldn’t laugh at you, and I won’t,” Lu Jie, feeling great after winning first place, continued to cheekily tease Fu Jia’an. “What’s wrong, crying? You don’t have to be so… Hey…”

Lu Jie felt a light bump on his chest. It was Fu Jia’an leaning over, his forehead resting against his chest due to his shorter stature. Their bodies weren’t quite touching, a few centimeters separated them, but when Lu Jie looked down, one of Fu Jia’an’s hands was tightly gripping the corner of Lu Jie’s uniform, as if clutching a life raft.

“Just let me lean here for a moment, please,” Fu Jia’an bit his lip. “I don’t want to faint.”

“Oh… okay.”

Fu Jia’an endured the initial few seconds of dizziness and weakness, finally gaining some excess composure beyond self-preservation. He slightly shrunk his body, as if trying to hide completely behind Lu Jie, and asked quietly, “Is anyone looking at us?”

“No,” Lu Jie said, his chest rising and falling as he spoke. “Someone fainted at the finish line a moment ago, and everyone rushed over there. Plus, this is the last event, and the track isn’t needed anymore. Take your time to recover here.”

Lu Jie turned his head away and added, “To save the school nurse from having to deal with another faint.”

Fu Jia’an slightly curved his lips, breathing very slowly. “I lost this time.”

Lu Jie was surprised for a moment. He suddenly felt that Fu Jia’an in this moment was completely unlike his usual demeanor—there was none of the composure of a prematurely mature young man, nor the calmness of an old sage. It was as if a piece of the eggshell had cracked, and a fluffy, pale yellow wing was peeking out, so endearing that it softened one’s heart.

“It’s not really a loss,” Lu Jie said. “That was my finish line, and this is yours. We both reached the finish line. Given your health condition, competing with you is practically an unfair victory for me.”

“You know already?”

“Uh…? What, know what?” Lu Jie stammered, his heart sinking, realizing Fu Jia’an had heard everything.

Fu Jia’an stood up straight again, instantly seeming to revert to his usual detached, unconcerned self. “It doesn’t matter if you know.”

He turned to leave, but his legs gave out, and he nearly fell to his knees. Fortunately, Lu Jie quickly caught him, steadying him before he could fall.

“Hey, did you eat breakfast? I saw you skipped lunch too.”

“……” No wonder. Fu Jia’an realized he was suffering from low bl00d sugar. He had deliberately run on an empty stomach because he had tried eating something before running once and felt nauseous.

“Alright, alright, I’ll take you to the infirmary.” Lu Jie crouched down. “I suggested you run the 3000-meters, after all. I can’t let you walk out vertically and return to Class 1 horizontally, can I?”

“…There’s no need, right?”

Fu Jia’an looked at the broad shoulders in front of him. This might be a once-in-a-lifetime chance for Lu Jie to carry him. Yet, he still didn’t want to be the center of attention.

“Stop hesitating, okay?” Lu Jie looked up at the sky, urging him. “Look, it’s going to rain. Everyone on the field is packing up to go back to the classroom, and some are busy tending to the student who fainted. Hurry up before anyone looks this way.”

“Got it.”

Fu Jia’an bent down and wrapped his arms around Lu Jie’s neck from behind.

Lu Jie stood up, feeling that the person on his back was as light as a bare skeleton. He figured he wouldn’t even know if he accidentally dropped the person halfway.

“Hold on tighter.” He said.