The head teacher’s emotions were highly stirred, but the students weren’t influenced by it.
This was sowhat awkward.
There were five guaranteed admission slots available for competition, and although not every student here was without hope, the key point was that the two actual top students hadn’t expressed any intention. What was there for them to express?
Qingran had always felt that she didn’t care much about the guaranteed admission, but only when the mont actually ca did she realize that she still wanted to secure one of those slots.
Not for any other reason, but perhaps to prove that her efforts recently had not been wasted, or maybe to put a perfect ending to her first competition participation.
Halfway to F University, Qingran, whose hand had been held by Xie Ying’an, felt a bad premonition after carefully sensing the temperature of Xie Ying’an’s hand.
It wasn’t that Xie Ying’an’s hand temperature had increased, but on the contrary, it had gotten even colder, ice-cold.
Qingran was sitting on the inside of a double seat, with Xie Ying’an on the outside. Possibly because other students in the bus were catching up on sleep, the curtains were drawn, making the bus interior a bit dim.
Qingran turned towards Xie Ying’an, who was leaning on the back of his seat with his eyes closed. His breathing was rather heavy, his brows unconsciously furrowed, his long dark eyelashes trembling slightly, and his tightly pursed lips were dry. He seed to be enduring so discomfort.
In just over an hour, Xie Ying’an’s sickness seed to have worsened noticeably.
Just as Qingran was about to let go of his hand to grab the water bottle she had brought, Xie Ying’an suddenly gripped her hand tighter, making it impossible for Qingran to pull away.
"Xie Ying’an?" she called out softly, then said, "Let go of for a mont, I’ll get you so water."
Xie Ying’an slowly opened his eyes, his usually expressive eyes seed dimd, possibly due to his illness. His reactions were also sluggish as he stared blankly at Qingran for a mont before slowly letting go of her hand.
The water bottle was hanging on a hook specially prepared behind the front seat. Qingran slightly moved her hand, which had gone a bit numb from Xie Ying’an’s grip, took the water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to him.
At that mont, Qingran only worried about Xie Ying’an being sick, not minding that the water bottle was the one she regularly used for drinking.
Xie Ying’an took the water bottle, he looked at it intently for a while. The girl’s water bottle had so pretty colorful patterns, which he usually disliked, but today he found it extrely pleasing.
The water in the bottle was neither cold nor hot, just the right temperature to hold. Xie Ying’an looked at the rim of the bottle for a while, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down a few tis before he brought the bottle to his lips.
This was the sa water bottle Qingran often used in school, and as her desk-mate, he had seen her drink from this bottle countless tis.
Back then, he did indeed secretly imagine that perhaps in the future, they might share a bottle, but he never thought it would happen so soon...
Xie Ying’an took a few sips of water then didn’t want to drink anymore. He held the bottle in his lap, showing no intention of handing it back to Qingran.
Seeing that he didn’t want to drink anymore, Qingran reached out to take the bottle from him.
Xie Ying’an refused, clutching the bottle close to his chest: "I might want to drink more later."
Qingran, feeling helpless, said: "When you want to drink later, I’ll get it for you. Otherwise, the water will get cold too quickly."
Only then did Xie Ying’an reluctantly hand the bottle over to Qingran. After handing it back, he leaned against the seat, his expression tired.
Qingran screwed the cap back on and hung the bottle back up, asking him, "Are you still running a fever?"
Xie Ying’an looked at Qingran and slowly shook his head: "I don’t know."
I don’t know, if you want to know whether I have a fever, why don’t you check?
Qingran faintly felt that this phrase was reflected in Xie Ying’an’s expression.
Perhaps out of worry, Qingran reached out and placed her hand on Xie Ying’an’s forehead.
This ti it was even hotter than before.
"The fever is getting worse," Qingran withdrew her hand, her eyebrows knitted together with concern: "It’s not good to keep running a fever like this."
Continuing like this definitely wasn’t okay; soon he wouldn’t even be able to stand there, let alone compete. They must go to the hospital.
"It’s nothing..." Xie Ying’an stopped Qingran from calling the teacher.
He pulled a reassuring smile with his sowhat pale lips, "I can hold on until the competition ends."
"So amazing," Qingran joked with him, "Can you also win first place?"
Before Xie Ying’an could respond, Old Wu and the Dean of Students hurried over from the seat in front.
The Dean of Students squeezed past Old Wu, who was partially blocking him, and ca up to Xie Ying’an: "Xie Ying’an, are you sick?"
Isn’t it obvious? How terrible does Xie Ying’an’s face look now?
"Still okay." Xie Ying’an was calm and composed, "It won’t hinder the competition."
The Dean of Students visibly sighed in relief, then sighed again, "You child, you say..."
You say, why did you fall ill just at this ti, neither earlier nor later?
The remaining words, the Dean of Students did not say out loud, his smile was sowhat forced, and his words were even more so: "What’s more important than a competition is your health. Why don’t we send these students first, then have Teacher Wu take you to the hospital for a check-up?"
Old Wu also agreed on the side: "Yes, yes, health is the most important thing, there will be other competitions."
Old Wu’s words were much more sincere than the Dean of Students’, having been with Xie Ying’an for two years, their emotional connection was naturally evident.
"No!" Xie Ying’an coldly refused and closed his eyes to feign sleep, ignoring everyone.
There it is! Another stubborn temperant.
The Dean of Students and Old Wu were both accustod to this kind of awkwardness; just as they were preparing to leave, the Dean of Students turned around and his gaze suddenly fell on Qingran.
"That, Li..." The Dean of Students looked at Old Wu for help, after a month’s sumr vacation he could no longer recall Qingran’s na.
Clearly, just a short while ago, when Qingran scored the sa 702 points as Xie Ying’an, he was always praising ’Li Qingran’ this and ’Li Qingran’ that.
Now it seed like he had completely forgotten about Qingran’s excellent performance.
Old Wu softly reminded him, "It’s Student Li Qingran."
"Oh, that Li Qingran," the Dean of Students frowned at Qingran, his gaze filled with displeasure: "You’ve been sitting so close to Xie Ying’an, you must have known about Xie Ying’an’s illness a long ti ago, right?"
Xie Ying’an suddenly opened his eyes and looked at the Dean of Students.
However, the Dean of Students wasn’t looking at him; he was still questioning Qingran.
Seeing Qingran nod.
The dissatisfaction in the Dean’s eyes imdiately showed on his face, and his voice beca stern, "Li Qingran, I hope you can have a sense of collective honor like Wen Shiyi. Knowing things like Xie Ying’an’s sickness, you should have told the teachers earlier..."
Oh, hearing this Qingran suddenly realized, so who told the teachers about Xie Ying’an being sick?
It was Wen Shiyi, who sat in the front right of them.
But this Dean is a bit too hypocritical, isn’t he?
Shouldn’t it be Xie Ying’an himself who should tell them about his illness? Is it her fault for not saying it?
While Qingran was startled montarily, he faintly heard Xie Ying’an speak, but he did not catch what was said; anyway, the faces of the Dean of Students and Old Wu both looked uglier than the other as they walked away.
When they got off the bus, Xie Ying’an pulled Qingran to walk quickly ahead of Wen Shiyi.
The young man coldly said two words to Wen Shiyi.
Wen Shiyi’s face turned pale upon hearing those two words.
This ti Qingran heard it clearly, the two words Xie Ying’an said were—
"Busybody!"
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