6.77 Seconds

"Baseness is the passport of the base, nobility the epitaph of the noble."

The school sports meet had begun.

Each class received a schedule outlining the general sequence of events.

The morning was mostly dedicated to sprint races, with both tracks in use.

As a result, Lin Mo had nothing to do.

But the one who truly had no obligations was Xu Sheng—having undergone surgery a month ago, he was still in recovery. For safety reasons, he was exempt from all physical activities.

The first event was the 50-meter dash, the most popular competition.

However, due to the sports teacher's intervention, only the fastest runners in each class were allowed to participate.

Too many participants would have made organization difficult.

Class teacher Chen Xiaoya sat in the class's base camp and asked Lin Mo with a smile,

"Why aren't you running the 50-meter? You’re the sports committee rep."

"But being the sports rep just means I’m strong, not fast," Lin Mo shrugged helplessly.

Chen Xiaoya had a favorable impression of Lin Mo. With his excellent grades, teachers saw him as a model student.

Even if trouble arose, it certainly wouldn’t be Lin Mo’s fault.

Just then, Xu Sheng suddenly popped up.

"Teacher, do we have evening self-study sessions these days?"

"No, not even for the second-years. Only the third-years do," Chen Xiaoya replied.

Xu Sheng sighed in relief. "That’s great."

A girl nearby teased, "What’s so great about it? Once we’re third-years, we’ll have to do it too."

Xu Sheng shook his head. "You don’t get it. There’s a difference between 'three in the morning and four in the evening' and 'four in the morning and three in the evening.'"

The phrase brought to mind the fable of the monkey keeper changing feeding times, but let’s not dwell on that.

Better to enjoy the moment first.

Meanwhile, the girls in class were already busy writing cheer drafts.

Phrases like "crouching tigers and hidden dragons," "flowers of success," and "sweat of victory" piled up in a cascade of adjectives.

Once finished, the drafts were sent to the announcer’s booth for live broadcast.

After a while, the class teacher left to watch the races—after all, they were her students, and she wanted to support them.

Lin Mo glanced over and noticed Chu Miaomiao copying cheer drafts.

Her handwriting was elegant, making the announcers more willing to read her submissions.

Poor penmanship, on the other hand, would get ignored.

Jiang Yunlu and others had gone to cheer for their classmates.

With nothing else to do, Lin Mo headed to the boys’ track.

He remembered that the fastest runner in their class was Pan Shubiao, one of the boys from the back row.

He had also played a key role in their previous "encirclement tactics."

The fourth heat of the 50-meter dash began.

Pan Shubiao stretched his ankles, his number tag stuck to his shirt.

The 50-meter distance was over in a flash.

Eyeing his competitors, who were already fidgeting with anticipation, he took a deep breath.

His feet settled into the starting blocks.

There was only one goal.

"On your marks… set! Bang!"

The starting gun fired, and the runners shot forward like wild horses freed from their reins.

Pan Shubiao’s feet flew—like an arrow loosed from a bow, he streaked toward the finish line.

Before anyone could react, he had already crossed it.

"6.77 seconds!" announced the sports teacher at the finish line, reading the electronic timer.

Only the winner’s time was worth announcing.

Pan Shubiao considered the result decent—not quite his personal best, but close.

Students from Class 8 swarmed around him, boys and girls alike, offering drinks to their champion.

However, Pan Shubiao was also a track and field athlete, so achieving such results truly lived up to his reputation as a sports student.

Lin Mo stood by the roadside watching, unsurprised by this. In his past life, the situation had been similar, except Pan Shubiao had still lost to someone else from Class One.

In the end, he only secured second place.

Compared to the boys' competition, the girls' side was far less intense.

As a result, Class Eight didn’t win a single medal in the girls' 50-meter dash.

Jiang Yunlu had signed up for the 100-meter and 200-meter races, so her turn hadn’t come yet.

However, many of the 100-meter participants had already started warming up.

When Lin Mo returned to the base camp, he saw Jiang Yunlu stretching.

"Weren’t you supposed to be cheering for them?"

"They lost in the preliminaries, so I came back."

Since Lin Mo wasn’t competing in any of the boys' events, Jiang Yunlu had no reason to stay and watch.

She simply returned to stretch and prepare for her upcoming 100-meter race.

As she stretched, Jiang Yunlu looked at Lin Mo. "You’ll come cheer for me later, right?"

"I will."

Lin Mo nodded.

Instantly, teasing noises erupted around the base camp.

"Lin Mo, will you come watch me run the 800 meters?"

A tomboyish girl batted her eyelashes at him in an exaggeratedly shy manner.

"Depends."

The girl pouted. "If you don’t want to, just say so. Couldn’t you at least lie to make us happy?"

Lin Mo smirked. No matter what he said, they’d tease him, so he kept his answer vague.

Who knows? Maybe he really would end up watching.

Just then, Geng Xiao returned from outside and immediately called out to Lin Mo. "Lin Mo, could you pass me a drink? Running is so hard."

Geng Xiao had participated in the 50-meter dash but was eliminated in the first round.

She knew that if she didn’t sign up, she’d be forced into a more demanding event, so she deliberately chose the easiest race to lose early and bow out.

When Geng Xiao approached, the other girls barely acknowledged her.

After all, girls could easily spot a "green tea" act.

Just as guys could recognize a male version of the same.

Still, Lin Mo casually picked up a drink and handed it to her.

"Thank you~" Geng Xiao cooed sweetly.

The other girls shot her disgusted looks.

Jiang Yunlu, however, remained calm. She knew Lin Mo felt nothing for Geng Xiao—if anything, he saw her as a joke.

So she wasn’t bothered by Geng Xiao’s advances. No matter how hard she tried, it was pointless.

Then Geng Xiao pretended to struggle with the bottle cap.

"Oh no, I can’t open it. Lin Mo, could you help me?"

Lin Mo pretended not to hear, staring off into the distance.

The tomboy beside him snatched the bottle from Geng Xiao, twisted the cap open effortlessly, and shoved it back into her hands.

"Here. It’s open now."

The others silently cheered her on.

Defeated, Geng Xiao took a sip—only to suddenly choke and burst into a coughing fit.

This, of course, was Lin Mo’s doing. A little "accident" to shut her up and keep her from bothering him further.

With that settled, Lin Mo walked away.

Soon, the 50-meter dash concluded. Just like in his past life, Pan Shubiao lost again, this time by just a hair.

But instead of being upset, Pan Shubiao walked up to the winner and said, "I still can’t beat you. But mark my words—I’ll win before these three years are up."

The top-ranked guy clearly had a higher air of prestige, being the one challenged. Sipping his sports drink, he smiled and said, "Well then, I’ll be watching. I’m also signed up for the 100-meter and 200-meter races, by the way."

"Same here. I’ll beat you next time."

Lin Mo listened to these declarations and couldn’t help but recall the next three years, during which Pan Shubiao had only managed to surpass him a handful of times.

Pan Shubiao even earned himself a nickname: The Eternal Runner-Up.

Though rumor had it they later attended the same university and even ended up as roommates.

What happened after that, no one really knows.

The story took a bit of a strange turn.