Chapter Forty-One: Victory and Farewell

The notifications in the status bar had appeared when Rousseau defeated Tian Shiwei, claiming the championship in the 100-meter dash at the Provincial Games and breaking the record. But it was only now that Rousseau had the leisure to study them carefully.

The two unassigned attribute points were self-explanatory; they could be allocated to either 'Agility' or 'Strength.' Interestingly, they could also be placed in 'Endurance.' The status bar reminded Rousseau that if he added an unassigned attribute point to 'Endurance,' it would be equivalent to increasing his endurance by 30 points, and this would not be subject to the maximum limit—meaning the value before the “/” in “XX/100” could exceed 100. It was, in essence, a supercharged sports drink, no, more like a miraculous endurance elixir.

Rousseau decided to save these two unassigned attribute points for now. After all, at present, it took him about a week of training to raise his Agility or Strength by one point. But as his attributes increased, the time required would inevitably grow. The human body has its limits, and under these circumstances, the later he used these points, the more valuable they would become.

Secondly, keeping these points in reserve meant they could be used in critical moments to turn the tide—a sudden boost of 30 endurance points would be enough to use a skill.

He then studied the newly acquired skill, “Acceleration.”

From “Burst” to “Acceleration,” the names of these skills were plain and unadorned, yet aptly described their effects. “Burst” granted a powerful surge of physical strength for one second. “Acceleration,” on the other hand, increased speed with every step, a skill that gradually built up and had no time limit. Clearly, this was a skill truly suited for running.

The status bar’s description of “Acceleration” mentioned that a balanced physical state would allow the skill’s full potential to be realized. The word “balanced” likely referred to having similar values in Agility and Strength. The “Burst” skill, of course, required no such condition—it was a skill for high jump.

“I probably can’t use both skills at once…” Rousseau mused. After all, these so-called “skills” were really just different styles of running. A normal human could only run in one way at a time, so it was unlikely they could be used simultaneously.

This meant that to use “Acceleration,” Rousseau would have to change his running style, adapt anew, and retrain himself. With the 4x100 meter relay scheduled for tomorrow, there simply wasn’t enough time, and attempting it would be too risky.

…

September 11th, 10 a.m.

The preliminary round of the 4x100 meter relay was officially underway at the Galaxy Stadium in Yangcheng. This race also served as the semifinals, since teams were city-based and relatively few in number. Some cities could barely assemble four relay runners, and their overall performance was almost pitiable.

Given this, the Pengcheng team, though not perfectly balanced in individual strength, performed exceptionally well as a unit, thanks to the countless hours Lu Jinrong had invested in practice. Their only real competition in this event was the Yangcheng team.

Bang!

The starting gun fired.

Rousseau ran the first leg and handed off to Wang Peng without incident, easing Lu Jinrong’s anxiety—if there were no problems at this stage, there would likely be none at all.

As expected, on the fourth leg, Tian Shiwei crossed the finish line first.

First place in the preliminaries.

Excellent.

Tian Shiwei, cheering, embraced Wang Peng and Xu Taiming. Rousseau had no intention of joining in such childish celebrations, but Tian Shiwei pulled him in anyway, dragging him around the track in a victory lap.

Rousseau couldn’t help but grumble inwardly—what, did you just win a gold medal? Was all this excitement necessary? Shall we drape you in the national flag as well?

…

September 12th.

The 4x100 meter relay final was fiercely contested.

The advantage Rousseau gained in the first leg was gradually erased during the second and third. By the time Tian Shiwei took the baton for the fourth, he and Xu Zhisheng, Yangcheng’s anchor, were neck and neck. Yet Tian Shiwei did not disappoint, edging out Xu Zhisheng by a mere 0.02 seconds to claim the relay gold for the Provincial Games.

This was Rousseau’s second time on the Provincial Games podium, but this time was different. This time, four stood shoulder to shoulder, each with a gold medal. The medals were identical, and their value undiminished—for every gold signified a champion.

Rousseau noticed that Xu Taiming was crying.

The 25-year-old “veteran” athlete wept openly as he waved his bouquet in the air. That image lingered long in Rousseau’s memory.

It was evening.

The western sun slanted across the field.

Owing to the semi-enclosed structure of Galaxy Stadium, the light carved a boundary of brightness and shadow across the turf, slicing right through the podium. The other three on the podium basked in sunlight; Xu Taiming stood alone in the shade.

Yet the tears on Xu Taiming’s face, and the flowers in his hand, seemed like flames flickering in the darkness—intense, yet already tinged with the dusk’s final glow.

After the awards ceremony, around a dozen members of the Pengcheng provincial sprint team rushed forward, gathering around Xu Taiming to congratulate him. Rousseau had wondered why the coach had brought the entire team when only four were competing.

It was only when their bus headed straight to a hotel that Rousseau understood—a celebratory banquet had been arranged.

With all sprint events at the Pengcheng Provincial Games concluded, it was indeed time to relax.

Including the coach, sixteen people sat around one large table.

The dishes and drinks were ready.

Lu Jinrong raised his glass first.

Athletes were not supposed to drink, but today was special.

He said, “Five years ago, when I joined the Pengcheng sprint team, there were only three members: Xu Taiming, Song Yunxing, and Zhang Chi. Many of you may not know the latter two—they retired two years ago. Now, Xu Taiming is retiring as well. Let us all wish him a brilliant future!”

Rousseau noticed the coach’s eyes were red.

“Coach, thank you.” Xu Taiming stood up. “These five years, I’ve watched you bring the provincial sprint team to where it is today. We couldn’t even make the top ten at the Provincial Games before, and now two of my juniors have won gold and silver, and I have a gold medal too. Your contribution is immense!”

Xu Taiming drank a glass in one go.

He poured himself another and toasted Lin Lishuo: “Xiao Lin, thank you. You might not know this, but with this gold medal, I can finally get a permanent sports teaching position back home. That means everything to me…”

“Xu, that’s enough,” Lin Lishuo said, pressing down Xu Taiming’s glass. “It wasn’t me who gave it to you—it was the coach’s arrangement and your own effort. I had nothing to do with it.” They clinked glasses and drank together.

So that was it… Rousseau finally understood why, in the relay lineup for the Provincial Games, it was Xu Taiming and not Lin Lishuo who ran—because they wanted Xu Taiming to have a gold medal, securing his future.

What followed was a night of revelry.

It was a celebration of victory, but also a farewell.

In such a setting, Rousseau felt oddly out of place. Though he was the hero of the hour, the one everyone respected and even admired, in that moment, he suddenly sensed a difference between himself and the others.

That was where the feeling of alienation came from.