As Dai Mubai and Han Feng returned to Shrek Academy, it was already early afternoon.
No sooner had they arrived than Dai Mubai found an excuse to leave, leaving Han Feng standing there alone, holding a food box and feeling a bit lost. He missed Qianqian—when he was with her, things never felt this complicated.
Meanwhile, Ning Rongrong had just finished her tenth lap.
Oscar had already finished his own run and noticed the tear-streaked look on Ning Rongrong's face. He wanted to ask what had happened, but the cold aura she radiated kept him at a distance. He munched on a few sausages and hurried to finish—after all, Ning Rongrong's mood had unexpectedly awakened Oscar's latent potential.
Because she was two laps behind, Ning Rongrong missed lunch. Hungry and sore, she slumped under a tree. The words Han Feng had said that morning echoed in her mind, and she couldn't hold back her tears.
"Han Feng! You bastard! Bastard, bastard, absolute bastard! "
Her body ached, her stomach growled, but nothing hurt more than the emotional wound Han Feng had dealt her. Though she had a thousand insults ready, somehow only the word "bastard" made it out of her mouth.
Realizing that even her anger lacked bite, she bit her lip in frustration at herself.
"You know it's bad manners to insult someone behind their back, right? "
Han Feng had just found her and arrived in time to hear her shouting. He frowned, but seeing her drenched in sweat, her pale face streaked with tears, and her trembling legs, he decided not to scold her harshly.
Ning Rongrong flinched at the sound of his voice, and though a small spark of happiness lit up in her heart, she kept her cool. She gave him a frosty glare and snapped coldly, "What are you doing here? "
"If you're here to laugh at me, you've seen it. Now go."
Han Feng frowned again. Her sharp tone grated on him.
"You underestimate me. I came to apologize."
Having made up his mind, Han Feng didn't beat around the bush. He walked up to her, opened the food box, and said sincerely, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so harsh this morning. I still believe what I said was right, but my tone crossed a line."
Ning Rongrong was stunned. In the past few days, she'd come to understand how stubborn Han Feng was. Getting him to admit he was wrong was harder than pulling teeth. She'd tried and failed so many times—yet here he was, apologizing on his own and sincerely.
Han Feng, misreading her silence, thought she still hadn't forgiven him. He opened the box further, revealing warm tanghulu and delicate Linglong sweet potatoes, carefully kept warm by a hidden flame.
"Here. The candied hawthorn and sweet potato you wanted."
The rich aroma hit her instantly, just as fresh as in the morning. Somehow, even this simple snack felt overwhelmingly satisfying. Just tanghulu and roasted potato—things far inferior to what she ate back home—but in Han Feng's hands, they felt priceless.
"…What are you trying to do? " she asked, voice cracking.
"Apologize. Isn't it obvious? "Han Feng replied, puzzled by the question.
"Then what did you mean this morning? " she asked again, eyes filling with tears.
"I told you—you needed to run. You're a support-type Soul Master. Without stamina, how can you even survive on the battlefield? "
"No! Not that! " she shouted, eyes fixed on his. "You said you wouldn't protect me! Why!? Am I so worthless to you? Do you hate me that much?! "
This time, Han Feng felt wronged. "When did I say I wouldn't protect you?! Don't accuse me of things I didn't say! "
"You did! " she shot back. "'Can you protect me? ' I asked. You said you could protect me for a day, maybe a year—but not for a lifetime! Why not?! Why do you hate me!? "
Han Feng rolled his eyes. "That's what this is about? "
"'That's it? 'You mean I don't even matter!? " she exploded, launching herself at him in tears.
He calmly caught her hands and explained, "Of course I can't protect you forever. That's obvious! My dad's a defense-type Soul Master, and my mom's support-type—and even he couldn't protect her all the time. I'm not going to follow you into the bathroom, am I? "
That stunned her. She hadn't expected her day-long heartache to boil down to something so… logical.
"And… I don't hate you," Han Feng added awkwardly. "You're just too headstrong sometimes…"
That last line rendered her speechless. Han Feng continued, "Anyway, want me to massage your legs? It'll help after all that running. If you don't, your legs will turn into radishes. Ever seen Ma Hongjun's? Short and round like tree stumps! "
When she didn't respond, Han Feng called out a few names teasingly. "Missy? Little Witch? Ning Rongrong? Big dummy? "
"…What did you say just now? " she whispered.
Han Feng stiffened. "Uh, Ning Rongrong? "
"…I don't hate you? "
"Waaaah! " Ning Rongrong burst into tears and threw herself into his arms. Hot tears dripped onto his shoulder as Han Feng stood frozen, unsure whether to push her away or let her stay. Strangely, he didn't want to push her away.
"You're squeezing me. I can't breathe…"
"Do you still want the tanghulu and sweet potato? "
"It's past lunchtime…"
"But do you want it? "
"And the leg massage? "
"So you forgive me? "
"No! Never! " she declared with dramatic finality.
"…" Latest content published on N0v3l.Fiɾe.net
What else could Han Feng do? He just sighed internally.
Yeah… Qianqian really was the best.