The wind of early September carried the sweet scent of osmanthus across the school track.
Kai Chen stood beside the running lanes, watching students sprint out one after another—only to stumble back minutes later, bent over and gasping for air.
For some reason, the sun felt unusually harsh today.
"Next! Kai Chen!"
The P.E. teacher's voice hit him like a brick.
Kai Chen didn't move.
His eyes were fixed on the camphor tree at the end of the track. The wind rustled its leaves, branches swaying like dozens of waving hands. He was still thinking about how to say it.
"Kai Chen! Are you deaf?"
Kai blinked and finally turned around.
"Sir… I'm exempt."
He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it over.
"I have asthma. The school approved my exemption."
Coach Wang took the paper but didn't look at it immediately. Instead, he studied Kai from head to toe.
Kai wore a faded school jacket zipped all the way up to his chin. He looked like the kind of student who lived by one simple rule:
Avoid trouble whenever possible.
"Asthma?" Wang finally glanced at the document. "You seemed pretty lively just now. Chatting with classmates. Walking around just fine."
"Intermittent," Kai said calmly."Running might trigger it."
The document carried a very real stamp from the city's Education Bureau.
Kai's father had arranged it the week before.
Two expensive gift boxes and an old classmate working in the bureau later, the certificate appeared.
"Done," his father had said casually. "Congenital asthma. Intense exercise could be life-threatening."
His mother didn't even look up from the soup she was making.
"He did wheeze a few times as a kid. Not exactly a lie."
Kai knew better.
Those "attacks" were mostly excuses to skip P.E. class.
At eighteen, running eight hundred meters would probably leave him panting like a dog—but it wouldn't kill him.
"Hmph."
Coach Wang folded the certificate and slipped it into his pocket instead of returning it.
"Kids these days are soft."
Kai didn't argue. His eyes stayed on the paper now sitting in the teacher's pocket.
"Twenty years teaching P.E.," Wang continued loudly. "I've seen fake sick notes, fake injuries, students skipping class entirely. But your class is impressive."
He raised his fingers.
"Five exemption requests. Three asthma. Two heart conditions."
He snorted.
"What is this? A group discount on congenital diseases?"
Laughter spread across the track.
Kai stared at the red running lane.
After a moment he said quietly,
"Sir… my certificate."
"You don't need to attend my class anymore," Wang waved him off like a fly."Exemption means exemption. Go back to your classroom and study. Or stand here and watch."
Kai blinked.
"Your score will be zero," Wang added. "But the final grade will still count as passing. Now move aside."
Being looked down on wasn't new to Kai.
Average height.Average grades.Average face.
The kind of person who disappeared in a crowd.
Back in middle school a girl once asked him,
"What do you think our relationship is?"
He answered honestly.
"Desk mates."
She rolled her eyes and never spoke to him again.
Kai had learned something that day:
Sometimes it was easier to just say whatever.
But for some reason, the teacher's words now stuck in his throat.
Not painful.
Just irritating.
"Sir."
Kai cleared his throat.
"I'll run."
Coach Wang frowned.
"What?"
"I said I'll run." Kai extended his hand."Give me the certificate back."
Wang stared at him like he had just heard a joke.
"You? With that body? If you collapse, your parents will blame me."
"They won't."
Kai's voice was steady.
"I'll take responsibility."
The nearby students gradually went quiet.
Coach Wang studied him for several seconds.
Then he smiled.
Not kindly.
The kind of smile teachers give when they're certain a student is about to embarrass himself.
"Fine," he said. "Passing time for the 1000 meters is four minutes thirty seconds. For you? If you finish under six minutes I'd already be impressed."
"One month."
Kai didn't blink.
"Give me one month. Next month I'll run four-thirty."
Coach Wang laughed.
"You start wheezing after two hundred meters."
"One month."
Kai repeated calmly.
"If I fail, I'll never attend your P.E. class again."
He paused.
"But if I succeed…"
He looked straight at the teacher.
"You admit in front of everyone that my asthma exemption is legitimate."
Coach Wang narrowed his eyes.
"Oh? Making deals with me now?"
He ripped a sheet of paper from his notebook and slapped it against Kai's chest.
"Write it down."
Kai borrowed a pen from a nearby student and squatted down to write.
The words on the pen read:
'Tsinghua University — Dream Big.'
He almost laughed.
Using his knee as a desk, he wrote:
I, Kai Chen, voluntarily agree to take the 1000-meter test in one month.Target time: 4 minutes 30 seconds.If I fail, I will permanently give up all P.E. classes.If I succeed, Coach Wang must publicly acknowledge my exemption.
He handed the paper back.
Coach Wang glanced at it, then slipped both the note and the certificate into his pocket.
"I'll keep this," he said.
"One month later, we'll see."
Kai nodded.
"Deal."
He turned and walked off the field.
Behind him, whispers spread among the students.
"Who's that guy?"
"Kai Chen from Class Three."
"Isn't he the one who never runs?"
"So why'd he make that bet?"
Kai didn't look back.
Outside the school gate, a cool breeze swept down the street.
He inhaled deeply.
The air felt sharp in his lungs.
His phone vibrated.
A message from his father appeared.
Dad:Did the exemption work? Come home for dinner tonight. Your mom made pork rib soup.
Kai stared at the screen for a moment.
Then he locked the phone.
Teachers could lecture all they wanted in class.
Grades depended on talent.
But running?
Running only needed two legs.
Kai looked back toward the school track and muttered quietly.
"Laugh while you can."
"In one month… we'll see."