"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!!!" That student, because she was caught by a friend, didn't fall as hard. She apologized profusely, "I was pushed by someone, I'm so sorry! Are you hurt? Where does it hurt?"

"It's fine," Pei Ran bent his arm to look at it. The skin was scraped and bleeding; it looked like a surface wound.

He glanced at the petite female student in front of him. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

The girl was scared to death, shaking her head, then nodding. "I'm not hurt. Are, are you okay? What should I do? Are you injured anywhere?"

Seeing how panicked she was, Pei Ran wanted to say a few words to comfort her.

But he realized he seemed to have injured more than just his arm—he had twisted his ankle, and there was a faint, dull pain in his calf.

He took a deep breath and tried to push himself up from the ground with difficulty.

"Don't move."

Pei Ran looked up and met Yan Zhun's eyes.

Yan Zhun squatted down, held his arm to examine it carefully, and then asked him, "Did you hurt your back?"

Pei Ran said, "I don't think so."

"Can you walk?" Yan Zhun said, "I'll help you."

Pei Ran felt like he was "lifted" up by Yan Zhun.

One of his arms was around Yan Zhun's shoulder, while Yan Zhun supported his waist, easily hoisting him up.

They were very close, so close he could even feel the warmth from under Yan Zhun's thin clothes.

The first thing Pei Ran wanted to do after getting up was let go, but then he heard Yan Zhun ask coolly, "Can you walk to the School Clinic by yourself?"

Pei Ran was silent for two seconds. "...Sorry to trouble you."

During the sports meet, the School Clinic was packed. The school doctor gave Pei Ran's wounds a quick check, gave them some Povidone-iodine and an ice pack, and told them to go to the break room next door to do some simple treatment first.

Pei Ran sat on the bed in the break room, carefully rolling his pant leg up to his knee. His calf was also scraped and was now a patch of red.

Yan Zhun came in with the medicine. His gaze lingered on the wound for a moment before he turned to leave again.

"Where are you going?" Seeing the disinfectant Yan Zhun was holding, Pei Ran asked subconsciously.

"To ask her for more medicine," Yan Zhun said.

"Don't," Pei Ran said urgently, grabbing his clothes, "it's just a surface wound; disinfecting it will be enough."

Yan Zhun frowned.

Pei Ran: "...Really."

Half a minute later, Yan Zhun casually dragged a chair over and sat down in front of him.

Pei Ran let out a sigh of relief. Just as he was about to thank him again, he heard Yan Zhun say, "Put your leg up."

Pei Ran was a little dazed. "Up where?"

He watched Yan Zhun open the Povidone-iodine and suddenly understood. "No need, I'll do it myself."

Yan Zhun didn't respond, simply bending down, taking hold of his ankle, and resting it on his own thigh.

Pei Ran was still wearing his shoes. He froze for a few seconds and immediately tried to pull his leg back, but he couldn't.

"My shoes are dirty," Pei Ran said.

"So don't move." Yan Zhun pinched the cotton swab stained red by the medicine, his eyelashes lowered, his gaze fixed on the wound on Pei Ran's calf.

Pei Ran wanted to refuse again, but the cotton swab had already been pressed onto his skin.

Pei Ran's legs were very straight, and his skin was a bit fairer than the average guy's. The iodine spread across it, like a clean canvas accidentally stained with paint.

Yan Zhun was wearing a short-sleeved shirt today. His arm would occasionally brush against Pei Ran's calf. Pei Ran unconsciously furrowed his brows, and with each touch, the frown deepened.

Their posture was too strange.

"Does it hurt?" Yan Zhun asked.

Pei Ran answered quickly, "It doesn't hurt anymore."

In truth, it still stung a little, but it was completely within his range of tolerance.

Yan Zhun watched quietly for a moment, then suddenly lowered his head a little.

Pei Ran felt a cool breeze brush against his wound, bringing waves of itchiness that spread from his calf to his entire body—Yan Zhun was blowing on his wound.

Pei Ran held his breath, then took a very light, deep breath. He could even feel the tremors from his own heartbeat.

Just as he was about to pull his foot back, the door to the break room suddenly opened.

Luo Qingshan was standing outside, still panting heavily. When he saw the situation inside the room, his movements froze, and his eyes slowly widened.

The break room fell into a brief silence.

Luo Qingshan's gaze shifted back and forth between the two of them. After a moment, he found his voice, surprised and confused. "...Yan Zhun?"