It was still early. Chen An didn't delay and went straight to the office. The office was at the end of the hallway, the door slightly ajar. He knocked.
"Come in," a voice answered from inside.
He pushed the door open and stepped in. It was lunchtime, and most of the desks were empty. Only one mature woman sat near the window, grading papers with a red pen. When she heard someone enter, she looked up and was briefly surprised to see Chen An, but then she smiled.
"Chen An? What's wrong? Do you need something?"
As his homeroom teacher, Liu Mengzhu naturally knew a bit about his situation. This child had been dealt a rough hand, plagued by misfortune. Despite that, he had always been well-behaved, and she'd never had to worry about his studies.
But misfortune always chose the weakest threads, and calamity always found those already suffering. Liu Mengzhu felt sorry for him, but she had her own life. Aside from giving him extra attention at school, there wasn't much more she could do.
"Miss Liu, I'd like to ask for some time off," Chen An said as he stepped forward.
She blinked, then put down her pen and bent down to search through a drawer. While rummaging, she asked gently, "Why? Why so suddenly?"
"I want to go to the hospital for a check-up."
That simple response made her freeze. She paused, her brows tightening. She pulled out a leave slip and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her expression turning serious.
"Chen An, are you feeling unwell? If anything's wrong, you must tell your teacher right away. Don't bottle it up, alright?"
Her tone grew softer, afraid to hurt his pride. At sixteen or seventeen, self-respect mattered most. But her worry was unnecessary. Even before living nine lifetimes, Chen An wouldn't have been emotionally shaken by something like this.
"Teacher, there have been some changes in my body…" he said as he took the leave slip and casually picked up a pen from the desk to fill it out.
Then, raising an eyebrow slightly, he added, "But it's good news, so you don't need to worry. Maybe the hospital will find out I'm just like everyone else now."
"If that's true, that's wonderful…" Liu Mengzhu sighed. She took his hand and looked at him earnestly. "Promise me, no matter what happens, don't give up easily, okay? I'll always be behind you."
Feeling the warmth in her grip, Chen An smiled and gently withdrew his hand.
"Teacher, I'll take care of myself."
With that, he picked up the leave slip and walked toward the door.
"Hey!" she called out.
Chen An turned back and saw her raising a tiny fist at him and waving it with a smile.
"Good luck!"
Just as he stepped out of the office, he heard a commotion. Looking ahead, he saw a crowd gathered outside the classroom labeled "Class 1, Grade 3." As he drew closer, he realized it was a group of gossip-hungry students forming a ring around something.
Inside the circle stood a boy and a girl. The boy had a trendy middle-part hairstyle, fair skin, and held a letter sealed with a heart-shaped wax stamp in his right hand.
His face was twisted with embarrassment, his fingers clutching the envelope as if he wished he could vanish on the spot. At this age, few things were worse than a public confession followed by outright rejection.
As he listened to the quiet whispers and scattered laughter, Gao Qingyang felt like his face was on fire. He had never been so humiliated in his life. Glancing sideways, he happened to spot a familiar face walking toward them—another boy he vaguely recognized as a classmate, though he couldn't remember his name.
All he knew was that this guy always dodged gym class or any physical activity and barely made a ripple in class. A perfect scapegoat.
His eyes lit up. He squeezed out of the circle, walked over, and clapped the other boy on the shoulder like an old friend.
"See? I told you. Even if it had been me, Lin the school beauty still wouldn't have accepted the letter."
With a click of his tongue, he shoved the envelope into Chen An's hands and turned to leave in one smooth motion, playing it off naturally.
Even the onlookers were momentarily stunned. Gao Qingyang's escape was clean, and he acted the part so well that even the girl—Lin, the one who'd been confessed to—looked up and glanced over.
She had delicate features and a bright, captivating face. Even in a plain blue-and-white school uniform, she radiated charm and elegance.
But Chen An didn't look at her.
He tossed the envelope into the hallway trash bin without a word, not even bothering to explain himself. He just kept walking.
He was too lazy for that. Explaining things was always a hassle. Besides, even if you did, most people wouldn't believe you. And sometimes, actions spoke louder than words.
"Class 2's Gao Qingyang… man, that guy's ridiculous."
"Was he really delivering the letter for someone else?"
"You believe that? Is your brain broken, or is mine?"
"Tch, you never know. The other guy didn't deny it."
"Idiot. He probably just couldn't be bothered to respond."
Their gossip filled the corridor, sure to fuel conversations for days to come.
But Chen An was already gone. He walked down the stairs and reached the main gate of the school.
In the security booth sat an old guard with his shoes off, feet stretched out onto the table. He lounged back in his chair with a cap pulled over his face, looking completely relaxed.
Chen An knocked on the window.
The old man's toes twitched, but he didn't wake. Chen An knocked again. This time, the guard stirred, lifted his cap, and looked over. Then he lay back down again.
"Pass slip," he muttered.
Chen An passed the leave slip through the curved window. The old man squinted at it, waved his hand, and opened the gate.
Stepping outside, Chen An squinted against the scorching midday sun and shielded his eyes. He stood at the edge of the street, thinking about how to get to the hospital.
The logical choices were either the bus or a cab—it was still around ten kilometers away, after all. But today, he wanted to try running.
In real life, he had never run at full speed before. So he crouched slightly, mimicking the form of long-distance runners he'd seen. His body leaned forward, his toes lifted slightly.
Then, with force from his legs, he launched himself forward.
Wind roared past his ears.
Running actually felt pretty good. No wonder so many people liked it. But still… it was too slow.
He frowned slightly and thought to himself "Divine Step."