Chapter 12

September’s Dandelions

Miao Luo also noticed Wei Lai lying down and approached him before they started sit-ups.

“Are you sure you can do sit-ups, Wei Lai?” Miao Luo eyed the wound on his knee.

As he bent his knees, the edges of the wound began to slightly tear open.

Her concern stemmed from this exact issue; running could easily lead to sweating, causing sweat to flow into the wound through these cracks.

The playground was prone to wind-blown dust, and during a run, the repeated stretching would widen the fissures, increasing the risk of dirt entering the wound and potentially leading to infection.

“Teacher, I’m fine with sit-ups; they don’t involve much leg movement,” Wei Lai said confidently.

“All right. Qing Ting, keep an eye on him,” Miao Luo instructed, turning towards her.

“I definitely will, Teacher.”

With Qing Ting’s nod, Miao Luo felt reassured and continued overseeing the class.

“Everyone ready?”

“Yes, we’re ready.”

“Then, let’s begin counting.”

Miao Luo pressed start on her stopwatch and stepped away from Wei Lai and Qing Ting.

As soon as the teacher announced “begin,” Wei Lai started doing sit-ups. However, just after the first one, he realized something was off. Qing Ting wasn’t holding his feet down as expected; instead, she had raised her hands above her head, untying the hairband around her ponytail.

Yet, when he attempted the first sit-up, he didn’t feel any strain on his legs, which seemed strange.

As Wei Lai started his second sit-up, he deliberately peeked and noticed Qing Ting kneeling, using her knees to press down on his feet.

(She’s so light; I barely feel any pressure.)

It wasn’t just about the weight.

Hearing Wei Lai’s thoughts, Qing Ting’s smile began to radiate with warmth. Finally, she swiftly removed the hair tie from her hand, allowing her long locks to cascade loose, gently floating in the breeze like delicate dandelion seeds in autumn.

This unexpected turn of events, not seen in his premonition, captivated Wei Lai’s attention. He momentarily forgot his movements, mesmerized by Qing Ting’s dancing hair.

With her freed hands, Qing Ting placed them on Wei Lai’s legs, holding onto him lightly. 

She blinked, looking up at him. “Why did you stop? Just two sit-ups and already giving up?”

“I…I was just finding my rhythm. Now that I’ve got it, let me continue.” 

Wei Lai, flustered, nearly bit his tongue, then steeled himself and closed his eyes.

(This is too underhanded! Trying to distract me by untying your hair won’t work on me.)

In his previous vision, Qing Ting clearly never untied her hair. This sudden change unsettled Wei Lai.

He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly had deviated from his planned future, despite following it meticulously.

(No matter what she tries, if I close my eyes, she shouldn’t be able to distract me.)

Yes, that should do it. It would be fine.

Qing Ting discreetly glanced at her classmates and teacher, ensuring no one was paying attention to them.

She gently rested her arm on Wei Lai’s uninjured knee, propping up her chin, and watched him perform sit-ups one after another.

His cheeks were flushed red, eyes tightly shut with a stubborn expression on his face – such expressions from him were rare, yet utterly adorable and intriguing, making it impossible for her to tire of watching him.

However, as Wei Lai’s count of sit-ups increased, Qing Ting clearly noticed his control over his movements weakening. Several times, just before fully sitting up, his forehead nearly collided with hers.

Realizing this, Qing Ting silently lowered her hand, continuing to hold onto Wei Lai’s legs.

As their classmates began struggling towards the end, some inadvertently stretched and flexed their legs. When Wei Lai lay down and contracted his legs, the scab on his knee slightly cracked, revealing faint traces of reddish tissue and tiny beads of blood beneath.

Qing Ting didn’t want the wound to widen further with repeated leg movements, causing more bleeding.

“Eleven, twelve…”

Since he was competing against Qing Ting, Wei Lai knew she wouldn’t accurately count for him, so he silently kept track himself.

“You have 30 seconds left, hang in there.”

Hearing the teacher’s encouragement, Wei Lai’s confidence surged, and his movements quickened compared to earlier.

(Perfect, just keep pushing and surpass her with this momentum.)

He truly wanted to win; perhaps today could be his chance.

Qing Ting watched Wei Lai doing sit-ups, her fingers momentarily tensed around his legs before relaxing again.

Wei Lai anticipated she might target his wound, unaware that she had multiple ways to disrupt his sit-ups. For instance, while he raised himself up, she could quickly tickle his armpit.

She knew all too well his vulnerable spots.

Should she let him off the hook today? Qing Ting hesitated slightly. Allowing Wei Lai to win once wasn’t entirely out of the question, but if afterward, he no longer agreed to compete with her, it would diminish much of her enjoyment.

As she pondered, Qing Ting noticed a dandelion seed had landed on Wei Lai’s cracked wound, seemingly mistaking it for a fissure in the soil.

Let’s see how hard he tries then.

In the end, Qing Ting decided to follow Wei Lai’s expectation by gently blowing at his wound, testing whether he possessed as much determination as he thought.

Freeing one hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, Qing Ting leaned down close to Wei Lai’s knee. With pursed lips, she softly exhaled, aiming to casually blow away the dandelion from his injury.

As Wei Lai lay on the mat preparing to sit up, his knee suddenly felt a stinging sensation, causing him to momentarily lose strength.

When he had initially bent his leg while lying down, the wound tingled slightly with pain but was manageable and didn’t hinder him.

However, as he continued doing sit-ups, his body warmed up, and so did the wound, intensifying a prickling, warm itchiness.

Up to this point, Wei Lai could endure it; once accustomed, it seemed bearable.

But…

(This is unbearably itchy! Is she deliberately teasing my wound with her hair? She’s truly a witch – I can’t let her win!)

It wasn’t Qing Ting’s fault; blame the mischievous dandelion fluff.

Qing Ting stole a glance at Wei Lai, who was enduring with closed eyes, a hint of sympathy flashing across her own gaze. Deciding not to test him further, she unconsciously retracted her other hand, intending to remove the pesky dandelion fluff from his wound.

Just as her fingers were about to grasp the dandelion, Wei Lai’s flexed leg abruptly regained freedom and shot straight out, leaving her hand empty.

Caught off guard before she could even turn to see what happened, Wei Lai swiftly rose, creating a gust that unexpectedly struck her face.

After lying still for a moment on the mat, Wei Lai sensed Qing Ting’s hand leaving his leg. Assuming she felt confident and had given up her ‘control’ over him, he swiftly gathered his strength, sat up abruptly, intending to surprise her.

As his lips touched something soft and smooth, curiosity took hold, and he opened his eyes to see Qing Ting’s startled gaze – she was genuinely caught off guard.

However, he wasn’t faring much better himself.

The sun hung in the sky, not as beautiful as dawn nor as intense as midday, but precisely because of this, it quietly radiated its vitality, bringing warmth to the earth.

In a corner of the school playground, dandelions, small and unassuming, released their seeds with tiny yellow parachutes, freely dancing across the campus with each autumn breeze.

“Time’s almost up, everyone can get ready now. Switch places with the groups who haven’t completed their task yet,” Miao Luo announced, watching the stopwatch in her hand and pressing stop at the final seconds.

At her voice, Wei Lai and Qing Ting snapped back to reality, hastily separating and standing up together.

“Don’t blame me; you started by teasing me with your hair.”

“It’s not hair; it’s dandelion fluff. It must have drifted there on its own.”

Standing side by side, both Wei Lai and Qing Ting avoided looking at each other’s faces, speaking softly with their heads bowed.

Hearing Qing Ting’s explanation, Wei Lai glanced down at his knee wound where the dandelion fluff still rested. It appeared content, swaying leisurely as if finding suitable soil for itself amidst the injury.

“…”

Embarrassed, Wei Lai instantly turned red and silently plucked the mischievous dandelion from his wound.

“Let’s call this round a tie. Can I have the dandelion?”

“If I lost, then so be it. It’s not like I can’t handle losing. You can take it.”

Both participants completed sixteen sit-ups, but Wei Lai genuinely couldn’t count the last one due to the distraction. Muttering, he placed the dandelion onto Qing Ting’s outstretched palm.

“Well, consider this my reward for winning the competition.” Qing Ting held the tiny dandelion umbrella, examining the small black seed beneath it against the sunlight.

This little fellow is quite playful; I need to find a place for it to settle down and behave properly.

*****

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