Of course, no one can tell that I don't like Song Zhirang.

I've always been easygoing and indifferent. Although my classmates in the class admire me, I never engage in cliques and isolate others.

Initially, it was during the physical education class when we separated boys and girls to practice tennis, and everyone chose their own partners.

As expected, Song Zhirang was left alone.

He stood awkwardly in the middle of the playground with a racket in his hand.

I smiled and walked over, extending my hand to him, and said, "Let's be partners."

He was somewhat surprised and looked at me in astonishment, stuttering, "M-me?"

I nodded and smiled, saying, "Yes, you."

He smiled at me gratefully.

I thought of the scene between him and Meng Jinxia in the library. In that instant, I wiped the smile off my face, thinking expressionlessly, hoping that he would still be able to smile later.

Song Zhirang didn't catch any of my balls.

I deliberately hit the ball to places where Song Zhirang couldn't reach, like walking a dog. He struggled to the best of his abilities, running back and forth, but could only keep picking up the balls.

While picking up the balls, he kept apologizing to me, "S-sorry, I'm really bad."

He didn't realize that I was intentionally teasing him until gradually, classmates started gathering around us. I heard a classmate behind me whisper, "What's wrong with Master Lu? I've never seen him treat someone like this before."

"When did the new good student offend Master Lu?"

I smiled as if I hadn't heard anything, making tricky serves until Song Zhirang tripped and fell to the ground while trying to catch one of my shots.

I stood there with a smile, without any remorse, and apologized to him, saying, "Oops, I'm really sorry."

He lowered his head, holding his swollen knee, and said softly, "I-it's okay."

I smiled kindly and continued, "Your tennis skills are really poor. Don't drag me down in the group match later, okay?"

While apologizing, Song Zhirang struggled and tried to stand up.

People around us were all watching the spectacle until Meng Jinxia walked over. She glanced at me, then took the racket from Song Zhirang's hand and looked at me coldly.

She smiled and said, "He's bad at tennis. Wen Zhou, I'll practice with you."

Meng Jinxia mercilessly defeated me, despite the physical differences between boys and girls.

When she was twelve, she won the championship in the youth tennis competition. I only practiced with her for two or three years to have a common topic. My amateur level was really no match for her.

I struggled to play with her for half an hour, and I hardly hit any of her shots.

But fortunately, I didn't have to pick up the balls. Every ball I couldn't catch, someone would pick it up and hand it to me.

I calmly watched Meng Jinxia, unaffected by her slight softening, until the last ball. When she served, the tennis ball hit my knee hard, just like the leg Song Zhirang injured.

The pain was unbearable, and I couldn't bear it anymore.