Horse Girl, Your Friend is Fighting Her Way Out of the Horse Racing Track

The teacher stood on the podium, writing something on the blackboard with chalk.

What was it again?

Poetry and Wine stared at the words on the blackboard, but couldn't absorb a single one.

So she turned her head and stared blankly at the sky outside the window.

P.S.: There will be six more updates today related to data, making it exactly 100 chapters.

The blue and white figure being pursued is called Miracle: Chapter 95 Are you alright?

The sun was shining brightly, the clouds were white, and the sky was a pleasant, deep blue.

It's a pity, I can't feel anything.

My mind felt like it was stuffed with cotton, or like it was being pressed down by something, heavy and making it hard to breathe.

School finally ended.

After packing his things, Shi Yu Jiu ate a few bites of food in the cafeteria and then went straight to the training ground.

She felt she needed to get moving and do something.

There weren't many people at the training ground in the evening.

After all, many female horse trainees' schedules consist of academic classes in the morning and training in the afternoon.

The sun was setting in the west, turning the horizon orange-red, with golden halos edging the edges of the clouds.

The grass on the training field shone brightly in the setting sun, like a golden velvet carpet.

Poetry and wine entered the locker room, where they changed into their training uniforms.

Red and white short-sleeved shirt, dark red shorts, and sneakers.

She stood in front of the mirror and glanced at herself.

The person in the mirror was pale, with deep dark circles under their eyes, looking as if they hadn't slept for days.

She looked away and walked out of the dressing room.

Standing by the track, she began to stretch.

Leg presses, lunges, side presses.

Every movement was performed with great effort; poetry and wine were forcing his body into a state of readiness.

My muscles were being stretched, causing a dull ache.

But the soreness actually made her feel comfortable.

At least that's true.

This makes her feel alive.

But after doing that, the fatigue became even more pronounced.

The fatigue emanated directly from the very core of my being.

It felt like something was constantly draining the black-haired girl's strength, making her feel tired even just standing up.

'So annoying.'

She thought to herself.

'So annoying, so annoying, so annoying...'

Countless thoughts buzzed around in her mind like flies, and she couldn't get rid of them no matter what she did.

The face of the diamond-like treasure.

The scene of that world.

And the date is drawing ever closer.

Poetry and wine: Close your eyes and take a deep breath.

'Don't think about it.'

'You won't think about it when you're running.'

She stood up and walked onto the track.

The rays of the setting sun shone on her back.

She stood on the starting line, looking at the winding grass track ahead.

Then--

Start running.

a circle.

It started off rather slowly, which was a warm-up.

Horseshoes clattered rhythmically on the grass.

The wind brushed past my ears, carrying away some of the sweltering air.

The evening breeze carried a slight chill, which felt very comfortable on my face.

The breathing of poetry and wine was relatively steady.

Inhale—exhale—inhale—exhale—

Everything is normal.

Two laps.

The speed began to increase.

The strides have become longer, and each step taken goes further than before.

The swing of the arms became more pronounced, propelling the entire body forward.

My heart started racing.

"Boom-thump-thump-"

The black-haired girl could feel her heart pounding in her chest, each beat stronger than the last.

His breathing became rapid.

Inhale—exhale—inhale—exhale—

The rhythm started to get messed up.

Three laps.

It's even faster now.

They were practically sprinting at full speed.

Poetry and wine know this is wrong.

This speed is far beyond her usual training pace. If she continues like this, her muscles will get injured and her knees will be damaged.

Having acquired a memory from the trainer, she knew better than anyone the consequences of this unscientific training method.

But she couldn't stop.

Because as long as you slow down—

Just give your mind a little bit of free time—

Those thoughts will then come to mind.

Like a flood bursting its banks, it surged forth with unstoppable force.

How many days left?

Do not think.

"A few more days until I go back?"

Do not think.

'After going back, I'll have to go through all those things again—'

Don't even think about it...

She ran even faster.

It's at full sprint speed.

The wind whistled in my ears, sharp as if someone were screaming.

The sound pierced her eardrums, leaving her mind blank.

well.

Don't think about anything.

Don't think about anything.

My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of my chest with each beat.

"Boom-thump-thump-"

It got faster and faster, louder and louder.

My lungs started to burn, and every breath was accompanied by a searing pain.

Someone lit a fire in her lungs, and every breath she took was like pouring oil on the fire.

It seems there isn't enough oxygen.

I was trying so hard to breathe, but I couldn't get enough.

His mouth was wide open, and he was gasping for breath, but it seemed that no air could get into his lungs.

That feeling—

It's a bit like when you're drowning.

As soon as that thought popped into his head, a picture suddenly flashed through Poetry and Wine's mind.

A black sky, a gray world.

Water rushed in from all directions, filling my nasal cavity, my throat, and my lungs.

Cold, murky water, mixed with mud and debris.

She struggled in the water, paddling frantically, but couldn't float to the surface.

The water was right above our heads, so close, yet so far.

She could see the faint light above the water, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't reach it.

Damn it, damn it, damn it, why is it still water? Why is it still water?

Am I starting to hate rivers? Hate the ocean?

No, no, no, what exactly do I hate...?

asphyxia.

pain.

Is there still despair?

Despair was like a giant hand, tightly gripping the throat of poetry and wine, making it impossible for her to breathe.

"—!"

Her steps suddenly faltered.

He stepped into the air with his right foot, lost his balance, and fell forward.

The world began to spin before her eyes, the sky and the grass merging into one.

She managed to regain her balance just a second before she fell.

He slammed his right foot into the ground, bending his knee to absorb the impact.

But the inertia is too great.