After the Secrets of the Passerby Were Leaked, He Was Cherished by the Entire Family of Antagonists

The first time Song Zhehan saw Xiang Yang, he wasn’t a chubby boy.

Back in middle school, even the smallest news could be a hot topic among all the students for days. When a new transfer student arrived a month after school had already started, it became the talk of the entire school, even reaching the eighth graders.

During one of the breaks, Song Zhehan’s friends, who loved excitement, dragged him along to check out the class where Xiang Yang had been placed.

It was break time, and the hallway was packed with students. Amid the chatter of his friends, Song Zhehan caught a glimpse of Xiang Yang, who didn’t once look their way.

The boy sat quietly by the window, his soft hair covering his eyebrows and eyes, showing only the graceful curve of his side profile. Yet, the tear-shaped mole under his left eye was particularly striking, leaving a deep impression on Song Zhehan.

He only glanced at him briefly before his friends pulled him away, back to their classroom.

That was their first meeting.

The second time Song Zhehan saw Xiang Yang was during the school's sports day.

Song Zhehan had always disliked participating in such group activities and usually avoided them whenever possible. But he had a group of friends who loved being in the thick of things, and as it happened, the sports monitor of his class was part of that group.

Whenever the school needed participants for events, the sports monitor would put down their names. This year, the sports monitor had signed Song Zhehan up for the 800-meter race.

Although he wasn’t thrilled about it, Song Zhehan kept his feelings to himself and even joked around with his friends during the warm-up. Some girls from his class came over to cheer them on, and one even brought a bouquet of flowers for Song Zhehan.

The crowd around them started teasing, and Song Zhehan glanced at the bouquet with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

The girl, pushed forward by her friends, blushed deeply. “Song... I, uh...”

Song Zhehan smiled down at her. “I haven’t even raced yet. How about you give me the flowers when I win first place?”

The girl nodded in agreement, and so did the other students, thinking it was a reasonable suggestion.

Soon, the referee arrived, and the race was about to begin.

Once they left, Song Zhehan’s smile faded completely, and he walked over to the starting line. It was then that he noticed the boy standing next to him.

The boy’s smooth side profile had rounded a bit, and his long hair had been cut short, revealing delicate brows and eyes.

Song Zhehan thought he looked familiar but couldn’t immediately place him. Then, his gaze landed on the tear-shaped mole under the boy's left eye, and he suddenly recalled the transfer student he had seen a few days ago.

He glanced at the boy’s number tag, which read "Xiang Yang."

Song Zhehan sized him up but quickly looked away when Xiang Yang turned to meet his gaze.

That was their second meeting.

Song Zhehan remembered that race well—he finished dead last.

Xiang Yang came in second to last.

In truth, Song Zhehan had the stamina to win first place if he had wanted to. But whether it was because he didn’t want to accept the flowers from that girl or because he found himself distracted by the boy running in the lane next to him, he slowed his pace and let himself finish last.

His friends were furious when he crossed the finish line, and even the girl with the flowers looked disappointed.

As Song Zhehan leisurely crossed the finish line, his friends surrounded him, demanding to know why he had performed so poorly.

The girl with the bouquet, clearly worried, asked if he wasn’t feeling well, which might explain why he hadn’t come in first.

With a gentle smile, Song Zhehan went along with her assumption, saying that he hadn’t been feeling his best, which had affected his performance.

Hearing this, his friends couldn't press him any further and instead comforted him, saying he could win next time.

Though disappointed, the girl still smiled and offered him the flowers.

But Song Zhehan kept his polite smile, saying, "I didn’t win this time, so I can’t accept your flowers."

The girl hesitated. "But—"

"No, really. Give them to me next time when I win," he said, walking away with his friends without waiting for her response.

After that day, Song Zhehan never saw that girl again. Clearly, she had understood his message, and he felt relieved.