The night was as deep as ink. On the playground of Linjiang No. 3 Middle School, a thin figure was running wildly along the 400-meter track. Sweat was dripping down his face, and the back of his school uniform was already soaked, but Qin Yu's footsteps showed no signs of stopping.
"One hundred and seventeen laps." He recited the number silently in his mind, his lungs hurting like fire. This is no ordinary run. He lost his parents in a car accident three years ago. From that day on, he would have the same dream every night - there was an old man with white hair in the dream, teaching him a strange breathing method step by step. At first he thought it was post-traumatic stress disorder, but when he accidentally used the boxing technique in his dream in physical education class and punched through the school's sandbags, he understood.
