mountain people

page views:1 Publication date:2023-08-11 08:17:13

[Synopsis] When the relentless years devour passion, your fading beauty fades as you drift away in the sea of people… Will the love in our hearts also dissipate like the passing wind? If the moon waxes and wanes, the tides rise and fall, your figure recedes into the distance, tears blurring your vision… will you remember that in the dim light, I am there, forever waiting for you? A Mountain Dweller, Part 1: The World Beyond the Mountains When I first stepped out of the mountains, I didn't know how complex the outside world was. I naively thought all skies were so blue, all air so clean and spotless, but I was wrong. I am a child of the mountains. Before I was eighteen, I lived in the mountains, a paradise and a haven, like a fleeting dream, completely out of place in the hustle and bustle of the city. There was electricity there, but the nights in the mountains were always dimly lit. The post office in town had two light tubes, and every time the adults came back from there, they would marvel: Shouldn't these lights be round? How come they emit white light? There was a television there too. Every evening at six o'clock, all the children would gather at the village chief's house with their son, the village chief's son, anxiously waiting for the television to light up with its static screen. The village chief would calmly adjust the angle of the two antennas on the television, while several children outside would shout into the house, asking if the television relay lighthouse on the highest mountain had lit up. The mountains were truly wonderful; the people of the mountains had a special affection for them, a mixture of reverence and awe. These continuous, verdant mountains were their source of sustenance—the grain for food, the firewood for cooking, the cloth for clothes, the wood for building houses—all of which came from the mountains. In the summer, during summer vacation, we would go up the mountain with our parents to dig for medicinal herbs: *Celtis sinensis* had small purple flowers that swayed quietly in the gentle mountain breeze; *Polygonatum odoratum* grew in abundance, and finding just one stalk could yield half a bagful; *Platycodon grandiflorus* was even more amazing—a stalk of the same size would have a root no bigger than a fingertip in the soil, but in the rocks, the root would be much thicker, though it was also very difficult to dig up. A group of people would go up the mountain for several days at a time, only needing to bring some dry food. The mountain spring water was clear and sweet, and there were many wild fruits: apricots, hawthorns, sorghum berries (small strawberries), and lotus seeds were all delicious. Winter was also a good time for hunting. The mountains were covered in snow, sometimes for several days at a time, and once you got up there, rabbit tracks were everywhere. There were also pheasants, jackals, and wolves, but the mountain people rarely killed wolves. It was believed that the wolves were the guardian spirits of the mountains, and with the wolves around, the rabbits wouldn't dare to damage the crops. The New Year was the most lively time. Adults were happy, and children were even happier. Every village had a market, and it was always crowded! Every family would go to buy New Year's goods, fish, and new clothes for the children. Firecrackers were the most popular. During the New Year celebrations in a bountiful year, every family was filled with laughter. Whoever slaughtered a pig would invite the whole village to a feast, and this would be a proper celebration that would last for quite a while. Only one rugged road led out of the mountains, and the main mode of transportation was the horse-drawn cart. During the busy farming season, people tended the fields; at other times, they went up the mountain to dig for herbs and gather firewood; and at the end of the year, they went to the market. The carts were always full of people, chatting and laughing. A few families who were better off owned bicycles, which we kids jokingly called "iron donkeys." Later, a few families bought motorcycles, which we jokingly called "electric donkeys." My grandfather was the most learned man in the village. He was probably one of the last generation of private school students in China. Unfortunately, he was born in that era, and the scholarly dreams that my great-grandfather had given him vanished with the smoke of war. But his family still had a considerable collection of books, mostly tattered, but they included the Four Books and Five Classics. When I was little, those books were my nightmare. Other children would play after school and do their homework, but I couldn't. I had to memorize them. Not understanding was acceptable, but not being able to recite them was absolutely unacceptable. There were only two days a month when I could skip memorizing. My grandfather said those were the days when they delivered things to their teachers when they were young. It might sound funny, but back then, although I didn't recognize most of the characters in the books, I could still recite those obscure and difficult characters fluently. Perhaps it was because of this forced "erudition" that I excelled in Chinese from elementary school all the way to high school, especially in classical Chinese and composition. Many teachers couldn't figure out the origins of the sentences I used in my compositions, yet they were always very apt. They could only look at me and sigh repeatedly, wondering just how many books this kid had read! Perhaps influenced by my grandfather, or perhaps this kind of personality was simply passed down in the family, my father also had a habit of forcing me to study, but thankfully not with books, but with his only hobby and proudest skill, the erhu. This ancient Chinese folk instrument was my only joy during what I felt was incredibly dark. In the sweltering summer, after dinner, I would sit in the small courtyard, listening to the melodious sounds of horsehair rubbing against the strings and vibrating the drum, and I would easily become engrossed, oblivious to the blisters that formed on my fingers from the strings. And so, I completed my primary and junior high school education amidst the Four Books and Five Classics and the erhu, and entered high school with excellent grades (except for English). High school was in a county town more than 20 kilometers from home. There were many more buildings, and I finally saw fluorescent lights and electric fans. Compared to the village, it was undoubtedly much more open, and I began to yearn for the outside world; children always crave novelty. I knew that going to university was the only way, so I studied very hard and my grades were quite satisfactory. There was only one bus running between the mountains every day at noon, and I went home every week, but I couldn't catch the bus, so I ran back. Life in the mountains gave me a strong physique, and my three years of high school, besides reading, writing, and playing the erhu, gave me another hobby: basketball. This was, of course, largely due to our physical education teacher. He told me that he had been a student in the sports department of Beijing Sport University, and during the Tiananmen Square protests of 1989, he had been somewhat radical, resulting in him being "exiled" to teach in this remote place. His skill was truly impressive. It wasn't until university that I realized this country bumpkin possessed a set of ball skills that, while I didn't think much of, were enough to attract girls' attention—all thanks to him. Even now, I can't say whether being born in such a place was lucky or unlucky. It was a simple place, where everyone was indifferent, peaceful, and unambitious, yet sadly, it exists in this noisy, complex, and utilitarian world. Who can imagine the impact of reality… People always strive for higher goals; it's destiny, the destiny of survival. Everyone says the law of the jungle is the rule of the animal kingdom, but how much civilization is there in human society? Survival of the fittest? It's just a different way of saying it. What does it mean that the weak don't have the right to live? What right do those who pride themselves on civilization and technology have to deprive others of their living space? When I came to Beijing, I realized that the sky can be gray, and so can life. Yanyuan, located in a corner of H University's campus in the bustling Haidian district of Beijing, was a beautiful and tranquil place; it was my paradise back then. There are many trees here, though I don't know their names, but the familiar scent of grass and trees often makes me linger. Actually, H University isn't very famous in Beijing, where prestigious universities abound. Only a few majors, like our Business School and Electrical Engineering School, are among the best in the country, boasting top-tier experts and academicians. But in terms of overall strength, it can only be considered a second-rate university at best. When I first arrived, many classmates complained: the school lacked strength, the teaching buildings weren't pretty, the library had few books, and so on. They even said they wouldn't apply to certain schools. But I felt everything was so new and exciting; the world was so vast, and the future so far away… I remember my first meeting with Xiao Siyun was in front of the dormitory building on the afternoon of my registration day. At that time, I didn't know she was in our class. She drove a red Ferrari, stopping at the fourth-floor girls' dormitory across from our building amidst the whistles of a group of boys and the chatter of the girls. At that time, she had flowing black hair, and a pair of orange sunglasses concealed her bright, beautiful eyes. She wore a white tank top with a sheer overlay, revealing a small, round navel adorned with a pendant. Her lower body was covered by a tight, sky-blue mini-skirt, almost entirely exposing her taut thighs, which were long and perfectly shaped. Several white straps bound her lotus-like feet to thick-soled shoes, each toe adorned with pink nail polish. The thrill she stirred within me was indescribable. This is from a forum post marked "Sunrain Essay Contest," with the author's name, department, and class listed at the end. Alternatively, submissions could be sent by class or unit to Room 202, Building C, Teaching Building 3, Sunrain Literary Society… I immediately felt an immense sense of relief; the heavy weight on my chest suddenly vanished, and the problem that had been troubling me for so long was solved. It turns out, it didn't necessarily have to go through Xiao Siyun's hands! What was I doing, acting so foolishly? Half a month later, Xiao Siyun, who had just returned to school after the National Day holiday, opened her Dell laptop in her apartment. "Huh? Whose work is this? Such skill!" She had just logged into the Sunrain forum and found many submissions. She opened one at random and was immediately surprised. It was a poem: *Nian Nu Jiao* with Preface: Author: Shan Zhi Shang Early autumn of the Xin Si year, grieving by the Weiming Lake, I composed this poem. Mist and rain over pavilions, vanished, leaving only rosy clouds, dust, and the setting sun. The bustling city streets, filled with music and song, where can I find solace in loneliness and desolation? Jiang Yan's talent waned, Shu An's travels passed, and the cold of Duling led to his death. Do not laugh at my forced sorrow, for it is ultimately just lamplight and starlight. Autumn winds and falling leaves are not merely two specks of dust, but a drop of flowing water is enough to wound. Day and night under the lamp, the years pass by on the roadside! Alone in the distant city, I pour a cup of wine, speechless, tears streaming down my face. My old friends are gone, I offer this empty libation to all directions.Although Xiao Siyun was born into a wealthy family, she was deeply influenced by her grandparents and had a love for traditional Chinese culture since childhood. A talented woman herself, she could easily read that this was a work written by a student far from home, expressing homesickness and nostalgia. A subtle sadness permeated the words, lingering in her heart. She desperately wanted to know who the author was, so she scrolled to the bottom of the post, only to find a long string of replies from other users with no other information about the author. Suddenly, an image flashed in her mind: a figure sitting by a lake, playing the erhu and weeping. "How could it be him? How strange!" She shook her head gently, as if trying to shake the person who shouldn't be there from her mind. But she always failed; the more she tried to forget, the clearer the image became. She remembered the extremely sad look in his eyes as he gazed at the lake that night. She had seen many girls cry, but she had never seen a "big man" over 180 centimeters tall cry with such aggrieved expression. She had never imagined that eyes constantly brimming with tears could reveal so much intense sorrow and despair. The piece "Moon Reflected in the Second Spring" touched her heart just as easily. She couldn't help but recall her mother, who had already passed away. She used to feel melancholic listening to CDs, but nothing had ever left such a deep impression as that day listening to his performance. What kind of person was he...? "Ring ring," a cell phone rang, interrupting Xiao Siyun's reverie. She quickly glanced at the computer screen. Good heavens, she had been lost in thought for almost an hour! What was wrong with her today? Picking up her phone, she asked softly, clearly puzzled by her own lapse in composure. Looking at the caller ID, it was Guo Jingru, her father's good friend. "Hello, Uncle Guo." "Xiaoyun, back to school? Did you have a good holiday?" "Oh, what's so great about it? Uncle Guo, you and Sister Jingwen didn't come to my house, I was so bored." Xiao Siyun pouted like a little girl, acting coquettishly on the phone with Guo Jingru, the dean of the School of Humanities at H University. "Hehe, alright, Uncle Guo won't joke with you anymore. I've really been busy these past few days. I'll make it up to you next time, okay? By the way, I wanted to ask you: what's the deadline you set for that essay contest you organized?" "It's October 31st! I told your uncle, but you didn't take it seriously. Humph! I'm so angry! I'm never talking to you again." "Hehe, really? Then I'll have to open a bottle of old wine to celebrate. It'll be great to have one less clingy person around. I'll live at least 10 years longer." It seems Dean Guo is quite cheerful and dotes on this little girl, even joking around. "Uncle Guo, you're just teasing me. Be careful, I'll complain to Auntie." "Hehe, don't joke around, don't bring her into it. How could I bear to part with our beautiful and lovely Xiaoyun? I've really felt a bit lost these past few days without you clinging to me." It seems this Dean Guo is somewhat afraid of his wife. "Oh, I was so busy joking with you that I forgot to talk about serious matters. Well, Uncle is going to America on the 20th and may not be back for a month, so it seems like I'm going to have to...hehe, not complete the task of being a judge that you gave me." "No way, absolutely not this time! Uncle, I told you this is Xiaoyun's first time organizing such a big event. How can you let me break my promise, Uncle?" Xiao Siyun used her little girl's signature move again. "This time I really can't refuse. They've invited me several times already, and I've turned them down each time because I'm too busy with work..." "So you're really busy this time? You're turning it down too?" "Three schools in the US jointly invited me. If I don't go, wouldn't it seem like the Chinese are ungrateful? So I'm sorry, Xiaoyun, Uncle really has to break his promise this time." "Oh, is that so? Then I'll... no, how about this, Uncle Guo? We've received a lot of manuscripts already. Could you read through all of them?" "Oh, that seems possible. How about this, you bring the manuscripts you think are of good quality to my office tomorrow. Sigh! I'm really afraid of you, little girl, you'll squeeze every last drop out of me, haha." "Okay, Uncle, I'll bring them to you tomorrow morning. You can't be absent." III. Heated Debate in Class On the morning of October 8th, in the dean's office on the top floor of the main building of the School of Humanities at H University, Xiao Siyun had just handed some handwritten manuscripts and printed online manuscripts to Dean Guo Jingru and was sitting quietly waiting. "Hey Xiaoyun, who wrote this?" Xiao Siyun knew without a doubt that Guo Jingru was asking about the poem "Nian Nu Jiao," so she didn't even look at it and answered directly, "Don't ask me, I don't know who the person with the pen name 'Shan Zhi Shang' is." "Heh, little girl, how did you know I was going to ask about this poem?" "Uncle, you don't know?" Xiao Siyun's face actually turned red when she said this, "When you called me last night, I had just seen this amazing work and was wondering who the author was." "Interesting, interesting, haha, you young people these days are really interesting. I think he's so proud of himself that he forgot to sign his name." Guo Jingru continued to stare at the simple hundred-odd characters without looking up, seemingly casually saying. "I don't think so. The author of this article definitely wouldn't be that kind of person." A faint blush rose on Xiao Siyun's face again, as if she had remembered something. "Hehe, what makes you so sure? Oh, I see: Sigh, it seems our little girl has really grown up. She can even like someone now, haha!" Guo Jingru finally raised his head, his eyes full of mischief and smugness, as if he had gained a great advantage. "Uncle is here again, teasing me?" This time, Xiao Siyun stood up and stomped her feet, but the blush on her face lingered for a long time, clearly her secret had been exposed. Guo Jingru knew when to stop, having watched this girl grow up. He knew that if he really angered her too much, he would be the one to suffer. He immediately straightened his expression and asked, "Xiaoyun, what do you think of this poem, 'Nian Nu Jiao'?" Seeing that he had stopped joking, Xiao Siyun sat down again, wrinkled her small, cute nose, and replied, "Actually, this poem is strong in its emotion. Undeniably, the author has a very good foundation in classical Chinese, but it's not clearly shown here. What moves me most is the sorrow conveyed between the lines. Although it's not a very intense sadness, this subtle, almost imperceptible sorrow resonates more deeply because it fades much slower than intense grief, making it all the more poignant." "Good! Insightful, hehe, it seems Xiaoyun is quite remarkable now! Ah, time flies! In the blink of an eye, you've grown so much. Uncle still remembers how clever you were when you were just a month old!" "Uncle..." Seeing Guo Jingru unusually sentimental, Xiao Siyun didn't know what to say, so she simply called out softly, "Hehe, I didn't expect someone my age to be like you, worrying all the time, did I? Sigh, it's all because of Shan Zhishang. You must teach him a lesson for me someday. By the way, yesterday you said you were wondering who I was when I called you. Could it be someone you know?" Guo Jingru's mood changed quickly, but his thoughts followed just as fast; he seemed to be quite shrewd! Having her thoughts asked, Xiao Siyun forgot to retaliate against his earlier teasing and thoughtfully replied, "I don't know, but I'll find out. Okay, Uncle, you can continue reading. By the way, how's my article?" "Hehe, yours is not bad either, a very good lyrical essay, beautiful language, concise writing, but to be honest, it seems a bit different from that one." After reading Xiao Siyun's article, Guo Jingru nodded again, but his tone was very serious. "Where's the difference? Why doesn't he think so?" Xiao Siyun asked somewhat unwillingly when Uncle Guo said her writing was a little inferior. Although she wasn't as domineering as other rich girls, it was still a bit uncomfortable for a girl who had been pampered since childhood to admit that she was a little worse than others. "It's still in terms of emotion and artistic conception. Your writing is too delicate, it's obviously written by a young girl, just a sentimental remark about a scene, it lacks grandeur, while that poem is different." "How is it different? He's a boy, isn't he? He's also full of sorrow, he's even more girlish than a girl." Xiao Siyun was still somewhat unconvinced. "You're really wrong. He also feels sorrow, but it's homesickness and nostalgia, different from yours. Men can feel sorrow too, and it's different from women's sorrow. They worry about their country and their families—Li Bai, Du Fu, Bai Juyi—weren't they all sorrowful? Yet their poems are passed down through the ages. You should know: men's sorrow is far deeper and more bitter than women's..." "Yes, Xiaoyun understands, thank you for your guidance, Uncle." Xiao Siyun was indeed different from ordinary girls; she immediately accepted the criticism seriously. As she walked out of the School of Humanities, Xiao Siyun had only one thought in her mind: she must find out who was behind the "Mountain's Lament."In November, the results of the essay contest were announced: my poem actually won first prize! Logically, I should be happy, but instead, I was depressed and at a loss again. Wang Xiaobo didn't seem very interested in my essay. Instead, he called in several authors who had written articles that subtly criticized the coldness of society and the bleakness of life. It seems this famous writer is quite capricious, completely disregarding others' opinions. He should at least have given me, the first-place winner, some face. What's worse, my pen name was listed in parentheses after the winners' list, which read, "Please contact Xiao Siyun, vice president of the Sun Rain Literary Society, immediately." Good heavens, how could I dare contact her? If I did, what would she think of me? Would she believe me? I didn't use my real name when I submitted the work because I was afraid she would misunderstand, but now it's really making things worse. If she asked me, "Since this is your work, why didn't you even dare to use your own name?" how would I answer? Sigh! I never imagined that a moment of impulsiveness would cause me such a huge problem. Sitting on my bed, I kept hitting my head... Days passed by like this, and I remained as indifferent as ever. I rarely spoke to anyone in class or in the dormitory, spending all my free time in the library, constantly reading. I would write a few reflections on good books, and before I knew it, my book reports (including other reflections) had filled two notebooks. It was impossible to find tutoring work in the neighborhood near the school where Ye Rong lived, but I found three more jobs a little further away. The employers were all nice to me. I couldn't bear to spend the daily bus fare, so I gritted my teeth and went to the secondhand market, spending 40 yuan on a rickety bicycle that rattled everywhere except for the broken bell. It was convenient and fast enough for getting around. Although my classmates had discussed the essay contest for a while about who was responsible for the tragedy of the mountain, it gradually faded from memory over time. I still couldn't muster the courage to "contact Xiao Siyun, the vice president of the Sun Rain Literary Society," so I had to give up. My first university vacation arrived. I passed my exams smoothly, and on the 23rd of the twelfth lunar month, I finally finished my last tutoring job. I bought some delicious Beijing food (Red Star Erguotou, Peking duck, etc.) and hurriedly went home. Stepping back onto the mountain soil, gazing at the familiar landscape, my heart couldn't find peace for a long time. I was no longer the little child who cried on my father's shoulder when I left home. I wondered if my face, like my heart, had gained much maturity and vicissitude. At home, I didn't reveal any of the hardships I had endured in this strange place. Some things I should bear alone; what's the use of letting my family know? It would only add a few more gray hairs to my parents' heads. The New Year in the mountains was still lively and bustling, but I no longer had the playful spirit of the past. Few of my childhood playmates were still in school; most had already begun their working lives, either working away from home or doing business in the county town. Our common language had become pitifully scarce. When we met, we were still as enthusiastic as ever, exchanging pleasantries, but afterwards, we had very little to say. I didn't...? Studying in Beijing made me feel superior to them, and they had nothing to hide, yet their completely different circumstances inevitably led to a rift between these two groups. Is this the helplessness of time? I don't know. I only understand one thing: while I gained some things, I inevitably lost others. So I locked myself in my room to read quietly, putting aside all these worries to savor the joys and sorrows of countless writers and poets throughout history. My father wasn't too surprised or suspicious of my changes, simply saying, "My son is like a man now," and then left me alone. My attentive mother, however, always found opportunities to ask me questions, which I patiently answered, leaving her with no doubts or worries. Although my parents' attitudes differed, I could feel their love for me was equally deep and meticulous. I spent my remaining free time with my grandfather. In just six months, he had aged considerably, his graying hair a testament to his approaching death. I wanted him to enjoy the joys of family life in his remaining years. My grandfather always thought of me... I felt proud, and seeing the changes in my demeanor as I studied under the emperor's nose filled me with immense joy. I described several famous historical sites in Beijing to him in detail, and watching his enthusiastic expression, I felt for the first time that I had truly matured and could share new insights with my grandfather. The month-long holiday flew by, and just after the Lantern Festival, I boarded the train back to school. My father didn't see me off again, letting me carry my luggage alone. In his eyes, I was truly an adult now, capable of venturing out on my own. The festive atmosphere of the New Year still lingered at school, and returning classmates exchanged local specialties they had brought from home. I also opened my backpack. I had brought homemade dried fruit and meat, without fancy packaging and even looking a bit dirty. After my enthusiastic persuasion, a few curious classmates hesitated for a long time before finally mustering the courage to pick up a piece of dried meat, wash it again and again, and put it in their mouths. "Wow, what is this? It's fucking delicious! Give me some more!" Zhang Zijian, the loud-voiced guy from Shandong, shouted first, walking straight to my bag and grabbing a handful without even washing it before stuffing it into his mouth. My stuff quickly became a hot commodity, and in no time my backpack was empty. Of course, my bed was also piled high with colorful plastic bags filled with all sorts of food I couldn't name. I realized that the animosity between us wasn't so deep anymore; time really can change a lot. Would this New Year be a new beginning? My second semester of university life began. I wasn't so aloof in class anymore, and I started talking to my classmates more often. Except for those few spoiled brats who were always hanging around Xiao Siyun, I could greet everyone I met. Xiao Siyun also seemed to have forgotten the unpleasantness I had caused her, and sometimes she would say a few words to me when we met. Having experienced the initial baptism of university life, my classmates had gained a thorough understanding of it. Other changes might not be so obvious yet, but skipping classes had noticeably increased. And I was proudly a member of this vast army, though I skipped selectively. I skipped every class related to English, and never skipped any others, especially those related to Chinese culture, including electives. My roommates joked that they'd never seen anyone like me: skipping required classes but never missing electives. I just laughed it off. I truly resented China. Why make English a required course, and even link it to graduation and employment? Were the people in charge of this at the Ministry of Education out of their minds? But I couldn't change it, so I could only protest by skipping classes. That day was May 19th. The class monitor informed us, the students who frequently skipped classes, that we had to attend today because the school was taking attendance and "cracking down." To improve the class's overall grades, I had no choice but to attend the 4 PM accounting class. The accounting professor was a young female PhD who had returned from Japan. Classmates who regularly attended her class said she mixed English and Japanese in her lectures. "Equity capital is called *# in English and % in Japanese; debt capital is called #* in English and % in Japanese; capital reserve is called…" I looked it up for her, and in just twenty minutes of class, she had used English ten times and Japanese eight. Finally, when she was about to use %#*$ @ again, I couldn't contain my contempt and anger any longer. I stood up and said loudly, "Professor, we know you are multi-talented and speak fluent English and Japanese, but please, could you please stop showing off to us during class? We are in China, and I would like to hear you teach us in Chinese." The accounting class was held with four classes together, and the classroom was filled with a buzzing noise from over a hundred people. But after I finished speaking, the previously chaotic classroom suddenly quieted down. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at me, the only person as tall as the professor on the platform. A few people even secretly gave me a thumbs up. The teacher on the podium paused for a moment, then quickly realized her mistake and, instead of answering my question, calmly smiled and said, "This is the first time I've seen this student in all this time. Have you attended my class before?" I understood her implication: she thought I, a frequent skipper, wasn't qualified to answer her questions, and she was even mocking my lack of understanding. "Teacher, you know what? Today is indeed my first time in your class, but after just twenty minutes, I feel... I'm so glad I haven't wasted my time here before. Honestly, your teaching style not only fails to spark my interest in learning, but I think it's actually a waste of our time." I didn't avoid her gaze, which, though smiling, remained intensely fixed on me, and met her eyes calmly. "No one forced you to come to my class. If you think this is a waste of time, then feel free to leave. And don't worry, I will never use the exam to pressure you." My words had become aggressive, but she still didn't get angry. As expected of a PhD graduate from Japan, even her manners are comparable to those of the Japanese. She was smiling and not angry at all when she asked me to leave. Moreover, she could use my exam to show her "magnanimity" as a teacher."Teacher, you're right. No one forced me to come to class. Of course, I could leave whenever I wanted, but I can't bear to see over a hundred of my fellow Chinese people suffer at the hands of people like you." Because of my grandfather's actions, I have an intense dislike for the Japanese. Seeing her arrogant yet defiant attitude, a surge of anger rose within me, and my tone became increasingly provocative, as if I were about to start a fight. "What do you mean by that? Isn't my teaching style also meant to broaden your knowledge? How is that 'poisoning'? Explain yourself!" She finally reached her limit and was about to explode. The forced smile on her face vanished, replaced by a layer of frost. I knew that leaving now was impossible, but I didn't intend to. I was determined to teach this kind of person the dignity that every Chinese person must have. "Classmates, do you know what day it is today? Perhaps you've forgotten, so let me remind you: Sixty-four years ago today, on May 19th, 1938, the Japanese captured Xuzhou. After breaching the city, they engaged in widespread burning, killing, and looting—their atrocities were utterly heinous. And today, this woman in front of us speaks Japanese constantly. What does she think she is? A member of the Chinese nation, yet she uses Japanese even for the most basic language—what is she?" At this point, I could no longer conceal my anger. I was almost trembling as I raised my arm and pointed at the teacher standing on the platform. "Traitor!" "Traitor!" My words finally ignited the anger of several "spirited" students. Two of them even stood up and shouted without hesitation, just like me—this was truly unexpected. "You… how could you students be like this? Waaah!" The accounting teacher finally broke down. She couldn't bear such accusations. Covering her face, she cried and ran out. Only then did the students begin to murmur amongst themselves, glancing at me and the other two from time to time. The two students who had echoed me exchanged glances and then walked towards me. "You must be Lin Peng, the one who was 'probationed' before, right? I'm Zhao Zhifeng from Economics Class 011. Buddy, well done!" He really is a rough and unrefined guy, daring to mention my "misdeeds" even when we first met. "Hello, I'm Chen Xing from Finance Class 012, greetings, Brother Lin." This one was even more unique, greeting me with an ancient greeting. I first shook Zhao Zhifeng's hand, then returned the greeting to Chen Xing, saying, "You two are too kind, I, Lin Peng, don't deserve such praise." "Damn, I've been fed up with that old woman for a long time. I didn't expect you to be here today, Lin Peng? We got our revenge, it felt so good. Come on, let's go for a drink, it's on me." I agreed to this straightforward guy. "Hey everyone," I said, walking up to the podium and clearing my throat. Addressing the still-discussing students, I said, "I'm Lin Peng, the one who was placed on probation for suspected theft. I acted impulsively just now, leading to this situation. I apologize to everyone; I'm very sorry for making it impossible for you to continue the class. I will take full responsibility." After speaking, I bowed to the students and walked straight off the podium, intending to go drinking with Zhao Zhifeng and Chen Xing. To my surprise, someone started clapping, and it quickly turned into a thunderous applause. I thought these students were just gossiping about me behind my back, like before, but I was wrong again. This seemed to be the first time I'd been acknowledged here. In an instant, my nose stung, and I forced back the urge to cry. I bowed deeply to everyone again, "Thank you, classmates! Thank you!" Sitting in the front row of the classroom, Xiao Siyun looked at the person on the podium who had once offended her but whom she couldn't forget, her face flushed with excitement like a big child, repeatedly saying thank you. Suddenly, she wanted to laugh, but then a sense of worry rose in her heart: Sigh! This fool, he doesn't know he's made a huge mistake. IV. Escaping a Disaster Of course, I didn't know I had stirred up a hornet's nest. Our accounting teacher was named Wang Xiaoyan, the niece of Wang Daping, the vice principal in charge of education at H University. Would I get away with offending her? Xiao Siyun was also very dissatisfied with this accounting teacher's teaching methods. One day, while chatting with her Uncle Guo and complaining about her terrible teaching, she learned about the background of this foreign-worshipping teacher from Guo Jingru. "This fool, he never thinks about the consequences of his actions. What should I do? That Wang Xiaoyan will definitely not let this go, and... he already seems to have been placed on probation once. If he gets another punishment, he'll have to drop out. Oh dear, what should I do?" Xiao Siyun didn't realize that she was acting like a wife worried about her husband who had caused trouble. A male classmate who had offended her was anxious... "Sigh! I guess I'll have to ask Uncle Guo again... that's the only way..." Thinking of this "mischievous" uncle who had teased her every time they met since childhood, Xiao Siyun felt a little happy: although he always made fun of her, she always ended up getting the better deal, either by taking this or that, and at that time, Uncle Guo would sigh that he was unlucky and "hate" her. Why did she always like to provoke this "clingy guy"? "Hehe," Xiao Siyun couldn't help but chuckle softly at this thought, and then she thought about how she was going to ask a boy for help this time, and she didn't know how he would tease her. A blush rose on her pretty face. However, she didn't expect that when she told Guo Jingru the whole story and her request, Guo Jingru was surprisingly serious, showing no sign of joking. "What's wrong, Uncle Guo? Is there a problem?" Seeing his unusual seriousness in front of her, Xiao Siyun couldn't help but wonder if her request was unreasonable, but she couldn't think of anything. At a loss, unsure what this highly respected uncle at school was thinking, she could only ask in a low voice. "Xiaoyun, Uncle can't help you solve this problem, but I can teach you a method that might work. Whether it succeeds or not depends on you," Guo Jingru's attitude remained solemn. Xiao Siyun was somewhat confused. "Uncle, what? You can't intervene? How can a student like me do that?" "Xiaoyun, listen to your uncle. I admire your classmate's courage. There are too few people in China who dare to speak out for justice like this. I don't want to see him lose his opportunity to study and I really want to help him, but it's not appropriate for me to get involved." "Xiaoyun still doesn't understand. People might think you don't like him! Since you like him, why don't you step in?" Xiao Siyun raised her question again. "Xiaoyun, do you know? Although I'm the dean at H University, what they really need and value is my authority and reputation in the academic world. In other words, I'm far less cunning and powerful than Wang Daping and his ilk when it comes to manipulating power. Of course, I'm not the kind of person who craves power, nor do I stoop to doing things that are superficially civilized but are actually more ruthless. And Xiaoyun, have you thought about what it would mean if I stood up for Lin Peng?" "If you stand up against punishing Lin Peng, it's equivalent to supporting his point of view, which means... it means you admit that Wang Xiaoyan is..." Xiao Siyun was intelligent and perceptive, and immediately understood the key point. "This is no small matter; it concerns Wang Xiaoyan's reputation. Now it's a right, protected by law." "What should I do? This kid... this kid has really gotten himself into big trouble this time!" Hearing Guo Jingru say this, Xiao Siyun completely lost her composure, pacing back and forth anxiously and stamping her feet. "Hehe, I've never seen you so concerned about a boy's affairs before, Xiaoyun. Could it be that this Lin Peng is your..." "Uncle Guo, what time is it? You're still joking? Hurry up and think of a solution!" Xiao Siyun had already stopped arguing with Guo Jingru. Actually, she was a little confused herself. What was going on? Why was she so anxious about someone else's affairs, especially since this person had bullied her before? "Didn't I say? This matter can only be accomplished with the help of you students." Guo Jingru's expression finally softened, and it seemed he really had some plans. "Uncle, you wouldn't expect me to organize a protest against Lin Peng's punishment, would you? Do I have that much influence?" "Of course not a protest. I want your club to join forces with a few other clubs to organize a large-scale patriotic education event. As long as it doesn't violate any regulations, the larger the scale and the greater the impact, the better. I happen to have a national-level research and development project that needs Wang Daping's cooperation. I'll try my best to keep him from having the energy to care about other things in the short term, which is about ten days. And if your event is very successful, then if Wang Daping still wants to defy the students and punish a 'patriotic hero,' he'll have to consider the students' reaction." Xiao Siyun stared blankly at the uncle who had watched her grow up, her astonishment lingering on her face for a long time, as if she were seeing him for the first time. Although Xiao Siyun was born into a wealthy merchant family, her father never let her get involved in his business affairs, only requiring her to focus on her studies. This kind of sophisticated approach was something that a simple student like her could never have imagined. She also realized for the first time how naive she was in front of these adults. "So... what kind of event should I organize?" It took her a long time to come to her senses and ask the next question."You'll have to figure that out yourself. Remember, the faster the better, and the bigger the scale and the greater the impact, the better. I'm going to find Wang Daping right away. I reckon he's already decided how to punish Lin Peng and is just waiting for the meeting to approve it. I need to get him to put these little things aside for now. Xiaoyun, you should also hurry back and think about the activities you want to organize. Whether they succeed or not depends on you. By the way, when do you have time to bring Lin Peng over so I can meet him? Uncle really wants to see what's so great about the boy that our little girl Xiaoyun is so worried about! Haha." It seems Guo Jingru thinks this matter should be settled by now. He couldn't resist joking with Xiao Siyun again, and before she could reply, he had already opened the door and run out. At the same time, in the vice-principal's office at H University, Wang Xiaoyan was also crying and complaining to her third uncle about those students. Wang Daping was naturally furious. With heavy breathing, his eyebrows seemed to twitch. "What kind of student is this? He's really gone too far! How dare he insult a teacher during class? Xiaoyan, don't cry, your third uncle will get revenge for you. What's his name? What department is he in?" Wang Xiaoyan was even more heartbroken. Because she wasn't used to taking attendance, she didn't even know the name of the student who had insulted her. She was furious. But Wang Daping was a seasoned veteran in the officialdom, and he could remain calm in a critical moment. He immediately opened the computer, pulled up the student database, and printed out the information of all the students who had attended Wang Xiaoyan's class at that time. He had Wang Xiaoyan check the photos one by one, and they quickly found the result: Lin Peng. "How come it's him again? It seems this kid is really no good! Alright, this time you can completely disappear from my sight." Wang Daping was initially surprised, then muttered a few words under his breath. "What's wrong, Third Uncle? Do you know him?" Wang Xiaoyan had stopped crying and was looking angrily at the photo of the student who had humiliated her that day. Wang Daping certainly recognized the student. Last year, during freshman registration, this arrogant brat had come to him seeking help, only to be quickly dismissed. Later that evening, someone came to the school accusing him of off-campus theft. He initially intended to refuse and go to the police station, but the woman's brother produced a work ID from the Beijing Municipal Public Security Bureau's Criminal Investigation Department, and the woman claimed to have many journalist friends. It seemed they had already given the boy a hard time, but lacked evidence and couldn't swallow their anger, hence their visit to the school. It's said that anyone with a bit of fame fears reporters these days, and a high-ranking official like Wang Daping in the education department naturally valued his reputation even more. Considering this, he agreed to give the student any punishment other than expulsion. "This kid is causing trouble again," Wang Daping muttered, then said to his niece, "You asked for this, don't blame me." He continued, "Xiaoyan, go back now. I'll give you a satisfactory result as soon as possible." "He must apologize to me in front of the whole school," Wang Xiaoyan said, turning back at the door. Seeing Wang Daping nod, she left reassured. Just after Wang Xiaoyan left, Guo Jingru knocked on Wang Daping's office door… Six days later, a debate competition on the theme "The Relationship Between Refusing to Learn Foreign Languages, Boycotting Foreign Goods, and Patriotism," jointly organized by the Sun Rain Literary Society, the Student Union, and several other influential clubs at H University, opened in the school auditorium. Due to strong student response, the final round, originally scheduled for the auditorium, was moved to the school stadium, which could accommodate more listeners. At 7:30 PM on May 27th, the final round of the debate competition on the theme "The Relationship Between Refusing to Learn Foreign Languages, Boycotting Foreign Goods, and Patriotism" began on time in H University's newly opened Stadium No. 3. The affirmative team was the 1999 debate team from the School of Humanities at H University, a strong team that had participated in the National College Debate Competition and won second prize. The negative team was the 2001 debate team from the School of Business at H University, a dark horse in this competition. Two members were particularly noteworthy: the first speaker, Xiao Siyun, was not only very beautiful but also calm and composed during debates, speaking slowly yet with strong logic and few flaws; the second was the fourth speaker, Lin Peng, an almost cold-blooded young man whose eloquent yet sharp arguments often left his opponents breathless, and whose concise yet powerful summaries. It seems the organizers of this event were quite influential; a simple stage with a complete lighting and sound system was set up in the middle of the stadium, somewhat resembling a star concert! The stage was surrounded by crowds, and the entire stadium was packed. A post-event survey showed that nearly 20,000 of H University's more than 30,000 students attended the event; the rest were there for other reasons…? Finding the sports field too crowded, I stayed in my dorm to watch the live broadcast on H University's TV. The affirmative side's topic was "Refusing to learn foreign languages and boycotting foreign goods does not demonstrate patriotism," while the negative side naturally argued, "Refusing to learn foreign languages and boycotting foreign goods is precisely an expression of patriotism." The debate began with the affirmative side's first speaker's opening statement. That evening, Beijing residents passing by H University's No. 3 stadium, seeing the bright lights and hearing the occasional cheers, wondered: "Which singer is holding a concert here again? I didn't know?" And the audience inside the stadium... were they all there? The debate was incredibly exciting, with both sides delivering surprises from the very first speaker's opening statement. The free debate was even more intense, with both sides wielding sharp wit and delivering a constant stream of clever remarks. In particular, the fourth speaker for the opposing side posed the question: "According to the opposing side, does this mean that China will only truly become strong when we can no longer speak Chinese? How can a Chinese person who has lost their own language be worthy of being called a descendant of the Yellow Emperor? What face will they have to meet their great ancestors who created one of the four ancient civilizations after their death?" This question left the affirmative side speechless for a long time, and the audience erupted in cheers. In the end, the judges consistently ruled in favor of the opposing side, but in their concluding remarks, they stated that the opposing side's victory did not mean their position was correct; it merely demonstrated that they had verbally defeated the affirmative side. However, the audience seemed completely oblivious to this, focusing solely on chanting slogans like "Boycott foreign goods! Boycott foreign languages!" in unison with the opposing side. Xiao Siyun and Lin Peng on stage, on the other hand, celebrated their victory with unrestrained high-fives. Just these past few days, another famous university in Beijing, B University, experienced an incident where Japanese students insulted the image of Chinese people at a party. Anti-Japanese sentiment in Beijing immediately surged to unprecedented levels, and the Japanese Embassy in Beijing was besieged by angry students for three whole days. On the afternoon of May 29th, Wang Daping collapsed into his office chair like a lump of mud. He was utterly exhausted. These past few days had been incredibly hectic. He was frantically applying for funding and setting up a research group for Guo Jingru's ridiculous research project, dealing with a mountain of miscellaneous matters that left him no time to attend to anything else, not even having a chance to resolve his niece's situation. Now, all the students in Beijing were protesting against the Japanese; how could he dare to go against the tide and do something like that? He was even a little relieved that he hadn't expelled Lin Peng. Thankfully, she was his niece; everything was negotiable. He picked up the phone on his desk and dialed his niece's cell phone… At this moment, besides being happy, I was also puzzled. What? My punishment hadn't come down yet? That day, I was so caught up in my own enjoyment that I forgot I was at a school, on a teacher's turf, and going against someone like that. Later, Xiao Siyun even told me that the accounting teacher was the niece of Wang Daping, the vice principal in charge of education. I was already prepared to pack my bags and leave the school, but Xiao Siyun insisted on dragging me into that debate competition. Actually, the question I couldn't understand was: why would Xiao Siyun, who always seemed so composed, rush to organize such a large-scale event that should have been thoroughly prepared? Could it be that my "passionate" speech in accounting class that day ignited a strong sense of patriotism in my bones? Would she be such an impulsive person? Absolutely not. Although I haven't had much contact with her, I know she's a girl after all. While she's shown strong problem-solving abilities in some activities, she shouldn't be so arrogant as to think she can do whatever she wants at school. Could it be… she's trying to help me?! I was startled by the thought myself, silently cursing myself, "Lin Peng, stop dreaming! Who is she? A super-rich heiress, a princess, driving a sports car, living in a luxury single apartment. And you? A country bumpkin from the mountains, riding a rattling bicycle, and a 'suspected thief' with a 'probationary' label on your head. If this came true, what a unique Beauty and the Beast story it would be!" Despite my cursing, the idea that she was trying to help me grew clearer and more reasonable in my mind. "Xiao Siyun, I really want to ask you some questions." At that moment, Xiao Siyun was also reliving the excitement of the final match that night. Thinking about how she and Lin Peng had so passionately high-fived to celebrate their victory, her fair face flushed again—it was the first time in her life she had ever touched hands with a boy. She never imagined Lin Peng would be so eloquent and knowledgeable. He spoke fluently and eloquently, citing numerous examples. How ridiculous she had always thought of him as just a dullard! "Sigh, I must never argue with him again," she suddenly wondered, puzzled by such a ridiculous thought.She didn't understand why she seemed to blush so easily lately. Could it be...could it be that she'd fallen for that boy?! Impossible! She should like Shan Zhishang. Oh no! She'd almost forgotten about finding him. She had to hurry. Xiao Siyun forced herself to think of that talented and romantic man, of the heart-wrenching sorrow emanating from his poem. But she found herself constantly associating the poem with a lonely figure sitting by the Weiming Lake. How could it be? How could it be? He was so dark-skinned and so foolish... She pulled out a poetry collection to banish these strange and absurd thoughts that kept popping into her head, but as soon as she opened the book, her mind went blank again...Uncle Guo had said he wanted to see Lin Peng. How was she supposed to tell him? She couldn't possibly say...that would make him her...my lover? In fact, Xiao Siyun had perfectly legitimate reasons to get Lin Peng to meet Guo Jingru. For example, the dean of the School of Humanities at H University, who was also patriotic, might want to meet Lin Peng, this "patriotic youth" and "radical," or something like that. It was just that being caught in the middle of the situation threw this otherwise bright and intelligent girl off balance. A disaster that seemed inescapable vanished without a trace in my mind, and life returned to normal. I continued skipping classes and spending my days in the library, chatting happily with my classmates during the few classes I did attend. Why? Because that debate had already changed my classmates' perception of me. Xiao Siyun, on the other hand, seemed to be intentionally avoiding me, only greeting me when she couldn't avoid me anymore. I never had a chance to ask her my questions, but fortunately, I never had high hopes for a deeper relationship with her, so I didn't pay much attention. My freshman year was coming to an end. I easily passed the exams; even the accounting teacher didn't give me any trouble. My classmates said that she had become much more restrained in her lectures after that incident. I thought about apologizing to her someday, but I never had the chance. Summer vacation arrived, but I didn't go home. Since I could work full-time, I took on several tutoring jobs, working from 8 am to 10 pm every day for a month. I earned over 7,000 yuan, but I was exhausted! My loan of 50,000 yuan for four years was approved in March, so I was basically free from financial threats. I sent 5,000 yuan home with my earnings and wrote to them to reassure them that it was from tutoring. My father quickly replied, saying the money had arrived, everything was fine, and I shouldn't worry. He also told me to take care of myself and not overwork. I felt a surge of warmth: my father's love for his son wasn't as overtly expressed as a mother's, but it was equally profound and moving. In fact, his love for me was no less than my mother's. V. Brilliance and Demise: A New Semester? The cycle begins again. After the hazy restlessness of freshman year, sophomores have fully embraced their roles as university students, maintaining a consistent schedule regardless of summer or winter: waking up at 8 am and going to bed at midnight. Have some of the idealistic youths ended their daydreams? Completely decadent, smoking, drinking, and playing computer games; some angry young people have set their goals and begun to work tirelessly, studying, studying, and more studying. Every day is exactly the same as the first day, constantly starting and ending. The students' faces are still young, but their hearts have slowly grown old. I am still the same. I saw on my timetable that my physical education class name had changed from basic physical education in my freshman year to optional physical education, and I realized that I am still young, even physical exercise can be an elective. I still take my favorite basketball. Our physical education teacher has changed, and the replacement teacher is named Yang Huazheng, who is said to be the coach of our business school basketball team. September and October are the time when there are many and concentrated sports competitions in universities. The clear autumn weather is naturally the golden time for outdoor sports. H University's "Beyond Cup" intra-school basketball league will also kick off as usual on September 20th. This is the second largest competition in our school, with all twenty departments sending teams to participate. The competition will be divided into five groups for intra-group singles... In the basketball league, the top two teams from each group advance to the quarterfinals and then face off against each other. The Electrical Engineering team and our Business School team will be matched based on their previous results. The number one and number two seeds will not meet before the finals. My physical attributes and skills made me an easy target for the coach. In practice matches, I demonstrated excellent inside and outside shooting, especially my jumping ability, and I also had a precise three-point shot. My performance greatly surprised the coach. He asked why I hadn't seen him last year, given my outstanding skills. I smiled wryly and told him that this time last year was when I was most depressed, and I had no interest in playing basketball. "So, your skill level is only known to your classmates and people on our team?" Yang Huazheng, our coach, pondered for a moment and then asked curiously. "I think so." Although I was puzzled, I still answered him. "Hehe, good! Good! This time, there might be a chance, there might be a chance." "Coach, I don't understand what you mean." He smiled mysteriously, "You are my secret weapon this year. This time, I'm going to make the Electrical Engineering department pay." The Electrical Engineering department has always been our Business School team's arch-rival; I heard they've snatched the school basketball league championship from us for three consecutive years. Although Yang Huazheng's skill level was comparable to that of the Electrical Engineering Department's coach, no matter how much he trained before the game, his players were always "afraid of electricity" on the court. He was very dissatisfied but had no way to deal with it. In fact, in terms of individual physical and technical conditions, our Business School was definitely stronger than the Electrical Engineering Department. At 1.86 meters tall, I was only the fourth tallest player on the team. Our center, nicknamed "Big Strong," was two meters tall, with decent skills, and was the starting center for the H University team. Our tactics and player coordination were also comparable. The only difference was the Electrical Engineering Department's extremely tough, sometimes even brutal, style. Every year, the Business School's main scorers were heavily guarded by the Electrical Engineering Department during games, and injuries were frequent. After several such incidents, several of the Business School's key players became wary of physical contact, and naturally, they dared not go head-to-head in games anymore. They were at a disadvantage in terms of momentum, so losing was to be expected. According to the coach, the Business School team could reach the finals even without me, so I wouldn't be used as a starter before the finals. I would only play as a substitute, and "I absolutely cannot perform too impressively; it's just a warm-up game for the finals." This seems to be what the Chinese football team often refers to as "hiding their strength." Heh, it's just that the Chinese team seems to lose every time they field a player they've benched. I wonder if I'll be that unlucky? I understand the coach's expectations for me, so I've been practicing diligently on my own lately. Although I'm confident in my abilities, I'm not blindly arrogant. The "Beyond Cup" started on September 20th. The spacious basketball courts at H University were bustling with activity every afternoon. Large colorful flags from various departments were everywhere, and each court was surrounded by several layers of people. The powerful cheers of the boys and the occasional screams and cheers of the girls blended into a basketball anthem, echoing in the air for a long time. Generally speaking, teams from liberal arts departments, such as English and Law, are relatively weak, but these departments happen to be where beautiful girls congregate. So, the players from the stronger teams are very happy... to be drawn into a group with these weak liberal arts teams. Needless to say, the lecherous mentality is that they'd love to show off their manliness in front of the beautiful girls. Our business school team was drawn into a group with the English department, and it was the first game of the group stage. I hate English, and of course, by extension, I dislike the English department as well. The girls' pretentious manner made me want to humiliate them, so my performance in this game greatly displeased the coach. In the second quarter, as a substitute, I made a brilliant steal and immediately passed the ball to create a fast break opportunity. Then, taking advantage of the opponent's defensive lapse, I made a three-pointer, even though the coach's tactics were supposed to be a lob to the center for an inside attack. What angered the coach the most was that later, after another steal in the backcourt, I actually slammed the ball into the basket with a tomahawk dunk on a fast break layup, defiantly pounding my chest with my right hand in front of the quiet English department cheerleaders. However, with this dunk, my debut on the H University basketball court came to an end, and the coach immediately called a timeout and substituted me off the court. After celebrating with my teammates by bumping chests, I was about to high-five the coach when I noticed he was glaring at me like he wanted to devour me. Just then, I overheard a few electrical engineering players nearby—who, apparently watching the game and observing our abilities—whispering: "Who's this kid? We've never seen him before." "How come the business school has another one this strong this year?" I immediately realized my mistake, quickly bowed to the coach, and promised never to repeat it in future games. The coach's gaze softened slightly, and he seemed to have let it go. "Coach, isn't it a bit suspicious if you just keep me off the court like this? Those guys aren't stupid, are they?" I pointed to the electrical engineering team members on the sidelines who kept glancing at me. "Besides, why would a coach as famous as you substitute a player when he's on fire? That would only make people more suspicious." "You have the nerve to say that? What did I tell you? You're not yourself once you're on the court." The coach glared at me again."Sorry, I was mainly annoyed with the English department people. I promise I won't do it again next time. But now the electrical engineering people probably think our business school has another great player. If we try to hide it, it'll only make them more cautious. So... so this tactic might not work." I scratched my head, feeling a little annoyed with myself. Why was I so impulsive again? "That's not necessarily true. It's common for a player to have an exceptional performance in a single game. Do you understand what I mean?" The coach smiled slyly. Of course I understood: he meant I could still play in this game, and I could play however I wanted, but I absolutely couldn't do that again. I had to prove myself to the electrical engineering people in future games. I was just overly excited and performed exceptionally well in this game; my actual skill level wasn't enough to pose a threat to them. As a result, I really had a great time: due to the disparity in skill, I played for another fifteen minutes in the second half, which was practically garbage time, and performed impressively. Every time I scored a goal, I would show off to the English department girls watching, making them both disdainful and forced to admire me. On the other side of the field, in a less conspicuous spot, Xiao Siyun was also watching the game. Actually, she wasn't particularly enthusiastic about these kinds of competitions. Although she often cheered for the department team before, it was mostly out of a sense of collective honor; she only cared about the result and that was it. She never found the sight of ten grown men scrambling for a ball particularly appealing. This time, however, she didn't know why she'd unconsciously come to watch as soon as she heard Lin Peng was on the department team. When she saw Lin Peng's flamboyant demeanor on the court, so different from his usual low-key self, she was initially puzzled. She'd only seen Lin Peng act this way twice—in accounting class and during a debate. Otherwise, he was always quiet and unassuming. Why was he so excited this time? The way he was showing off to the girls was almost arrogant. But she quickly realized: the business school team was playing against the English department, and those English students were probably considered half-traitors in his eyes. Xiao Siyun gently shook her head and smiled: This boy she couldn't forget! SomPlease don't hesitate to give me a "like"; your "likes" are my biggest motivation for posting.[This post was edited by Zero Degrees of Longing on 2014-08-18 at 09:51]

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