“I seem… seem… to have… diarrhea.” Ou Yeh had a hard time even talking and the blue veins on his forehead were protruding.

“What are we going to do then? Shall I find someone to run in your place?” Fang Duo said anxiously.

“No, I have to finish running.” Ou Ye's lips had turned purple. It was like there was a long worm in his stomach, biting his flesh and drilling his intestines.

“You don't even have the strength to talk now. How can you run? You might get sick if you insist on running.” Fang Duo turned to look at the other students and asked anxiously, “Who can replace Ou Ye?”

The other students of Cla.s.s 7 all fell silent. They could run in Ou Ye's place, but they weren't confident they could win the last leg of the relay race.

Besides, the last runner of Cla.s.s One was Zhao Biao. What if they lost this crucial battle?

Anyway, the third leg was only halfway finished. They were all waiting to see who would stand up first.

“Hiss—” Ou Ye was hurting so badly that he suddenly saw stars and half-knelt on the ground.

“Ou Ye! Ou Ye!” Fang Duo tugged his arm and called his name anxiously but couldn't pull him up.

“Give the baton to me.” At this moment, a calm voice rang out and a figure appeared in front of the half-kneeling Ou Ye like a G.o.d descending from the sky.

Sheng Yang wasn't a nosy person but since Ou Ye called her “Idol”, she didn't mind helping out her little henchman.

“No! Not you! You're a girl!” Fang Duo said.

Sheng Yang directly grabbed the baton from Ou Ye, who had lost all his strength, then said indifferently, “Take Ou Ye to the infirmary.”

At the same time, noticing that there seemed to be something seriously wrong with Ou Ye, Cla.s.s One students began to murmur amongst themselves.

“Huh? What the h.e.l.l is Cla.s.s Seven doing?”

“I saw them change their last runner.”

“That's ridiculous. They sent a girl to run in the men's relay race. It's that transfer student from their cla.s.s.”

“I know their plan. They're going to lose anyway. This way, they'll have an excuse because boys usually run faster than girls.”

“Hmph, Cla.s.s 7 is really treacherous! All they know how to do is play dirty.”

On the court, Sheng Yang raised her cold eyes and looked back.

The third runner of Cla.s.s 7 was straining every muscle to sprint towards her, his face and neck all red, but he could only barely catch up with Cla.s.s 1's runner.

He failed to create distance from his opponent. Now their entire cla.s.s's hopes rested on Ou Ye.

“Ou Ye, here you are—”

Handing over the baton, the third runner gasped violently, his cheeks sore, his throat pained, completely breathless.

Someone handed him a gla.s.s of water. Without looking at it, he took the gla.s.s and drank the water in a gulp. Then he suddenly noticed that the slender figure in front didn't seem to be Ou Ye.

He rubbed his eyes only to discover it was actually a girl, and he almost spurted out the water from his mouth.

With a contemptuous look, Zhao Biao was running ahead with complete ease.

He would beat Ou Ye more than easily, not to mention Sheng Yang, a girl who looked so fragile.

Upon thinking about what she said and the way she looked earlier, he felt quite upset.

At this time, a breeze pa.s.sed by his side.

Zhao Biao looked ahead in shock, his eyes wide.