After the following rounds, which didn’t require much teamwork, Ming Yao’s team managed to place decently.

The next challenge, however, was a boys-carry-girls event. The girls would have name tags stuck to their backs, and points would be awarded for tearing off opponents’ tags.

If the boy put the girl down or if the girl’s tag was torn off, the team would be disqualified.

Many boys groaned at the rules, complaining that carrying girls was hard enough, but running around while trying to grab tags and avoid losing their own seemed impossible.

While most boys sulked, Zhou Nanye was blushing furiously at the thought of carrying Jiang Mianmian.

She was wearing shorts, her long legs smooth and fair, her waist slender but her figure perfectly curvy under the sports uniform.

The mere thought of having her on his back, her legs in his arms, and her soft body pressed against him made Zhou Nanye’s face burn and his heart race.

He wasn’t nervous about the competition itself—he was nervous about the closeness.

“…!”

As the imagined scene played in his mind, heat surged to his cheeks, and his heartbeat quickened uncontrollably.

“Nanye… Nanye, what’s wrong? The competition is about to start!”

Watching his flustered, awkward demeanor, Jiang Mianmian chuckled, her peach blossom-shaped eyes curving into crescents.

“Nothing, nothing…” Zhou Nanye shook his head lightly, lowering his gaze, too shy to look at her.

Finally, the event began.

The boys crouched down while the girls climbed onto their backs.

As Zhou Nanye bent down, he caught a whiff of Jiang Mianmian’s light, pleasant fragrance before feeling her soft body leaning against him.

He nervously hooked his arms around her smooth legs and carefully stood up, carrying her securely on his back.

Some boys were already struggling to carry their partners and were dreading having to run and grab tags. Their faces were filled with despair.

But Zhou Nanye said nothing. He held Jiang Mianmian tightly, determined to keep her steady so she wouldn’t fall during the chaos.

Jiang Mianmian wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling the boy stiffen under her touch. His hands, gripping her legs, remained motionless, as if afraid to move.

Her lips curled into a soft laugh, the sound light and melodic, like a silver bell, reaching Zhou Nanye’s ears.

His ears turned red, a slight tingling sensation spreading from them.

Mianmian…

The contrast of the boy’s blue uniform and the girl’s red created a youthful, vibrant, and heartfelt scene.

The boys began running, carrying the girls on their backs while trying to grab name tags from their opponents. They also had to protect their own name tags from being torn.

As more boys were eliminated—either because they couldn’t carry their partners or had their tags torn—only two teams remained on the field: Jiang Mianmian and Zhou Nanye, and Ming Yao and Zhou Ling’er.

The tension in the air became palpable.

Ming Yao’s gaze darkened as he watched Jiang Mianmian, who looked dazzlingly radiant, so close to the stuttering boy. His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding in frustration.

He had always thought Jiang Mianmian would cling to him forever, never letting go.

Now, seeing her happily teamed up with another boy, he was consumed by jealousy.

The more he watched, the more his eyes burned with anger, and his grip on Zhou Ling’er tightened unconsciously.

“Ow! Ming Yao, you’re hurting me…” Zhou Ling’er winced in pain, her voice trembling.

Realizing this, Ming Yao loosened his grip slightly but muttered through gritted teeth, “I must beat that damn stutterer!”