Hopeless Romance (GL) - Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The day the intensive training camp officially began, Ye Sangshu woke up very early. Although she had prepared everything Ye Du would need for the next fifteen days the night before—clothes, study materials, and some cold medicine—she remained uneasy. It was the height of July, and the summer heat was oppressive. Given that Ye Du had fallen ill with fevers several times during past summers, Ye Sangshu was extra worried; physical discomfort was one thing, but falling sick would affect her training performance and might cost her the qualification. Looking at the open suitcase, Ye Sangshu double-checked and reconsidered every item repeatedly, packing everything she possibly could. In reality, the training was held at Yunchuan Middle School, and students and teachers were staying in designated dormitories not far from home; if Ye Sangshu wanted to visit or deliver something, she only needed to contact the lead teacher and register.

However, neither of them brought this up. It was as if they had both tacitly agreed that Ye Du’s departure was a full, uninterrupted fifteen-day commitment. Ye Du couldn’t imagine herself putting on a display of “mother-daughter deep affection” in front of a crowd, and Ye Sangshu felt that the teachers would naturally do a better job of supervising her studies than she could. Moreover, she wanted Ye Du to grow up faster, and this was a rare opportunity to learn independence.

Summer clothes were light, so the suitcase wasn’t heavy. Ye Du luckily missed the morning rush hour and found a seat on the bus, passing the time by watching the changing scenery outside the window. As she watched, it occurred to her that she had been looking at these shops, trees, and crowds for over half a year, yet looking closely today, not a single thing felt truly familiar. she wondered what she usually spent her time doing during her daily commute to school.

When Jiang Zhouchi and Pei Lang appeared in Ye Du’s field of vision holding hands, the first person she thought of was Wang Zhu. If Wang Zhu actually came to see Pei Lang, she’d get a “buy one, get one free” deal and see Jiang Zhouchi as well—though Ye Du wasn’t sure if that would be a blessing or a heartbreak. She hadn’t expected herself to witness this story from beginning to end. Thinking back on the timeline—from the photo she took, to hearing Wang Zhu and Jiang Xinwan talk about Jiang Zhouchi’s secrets, to Pei Lang’s questioning, and finally to this scene today—it could be considered a complete and happy ending.

Since one was her classmate and the other a senior she saw every week, Ye Du couldn’t really pretend not to see them, especially since they were so eye-catching standing together. “Why are you so late?” Ye Du asked. she was always curious why Pei Lang spoke to her with such a natural lack of formality, as if they were already very close.

“As long as I’m not late, it’s fine.” Ye Du glanced at her watch and saw there were fifteen minutes left until the meeting time. She had to pull her suitcase and head straight in, planning to pack her things in the dorm after the assembly.

Jiang Zhouchi smiled and greeted Ye Du. She looked happy—a transparent, deep-seated happiness that radiated from within, a look Ye Du rarely saw on her face. It made her look like a very fortunate girl. Inopportunely, Ye Du thought of Jiang Zhouchi’s mother; she wondered if the woman ever had the chance to be this happy. Ye Du was actually curious if their lack of discretion was too high-profile. Though there weren’t many people in the training camp, there were students from all grades; it wouldn’t be long before the whole school knew. Then again, she thought, what did that have to do with her?

…

The seating was arranged by grade. She happened to be deskmates with Shang Ruixi, while Qin Zibei was grouped with Peng Zexue, who was rumored to be going abroad. Although Ye Du was often compared to Shang Ruixi and they attended award ceremonies together, they weren’t well-acquainted—at most, they were nodding acquaintances, as their usual seats in class were too far apart to facilitate any real familiarity.

The lead teacher, surnamed Chen, was responsible for the living arrangements, while six teaching instructors managed the beginner, intermediate, and advanced levels. Ye Du noticed that the majority of both teachers and students were male. This reminded her of the saying she had heard since childhood: “Boys are just naturally smarter than girls; girls only know how to work hard blindly.” Ye Du didn’t know if that was true, but she felt certain the sentiment behind it was wrong.

The teachers didn’t give them much time to settle in. After a brief introduction, they were given only half an hour to organize their dorms and eat before jumping straight into training. The program combined lectures with practice, focusing heavily on the latter. Speed and accuracy were the two major criteria, and every classroom test was conducted according to formal competition requirements. The difficulty of the problems was beyond doubt, and the sheer volume of work was overwhelming for beginners. Here, Ye Du felt an unprecedented amount of pressure.

“Shang Ruixi, are you okay?” After finally enduring the first day, Ye Du slumped at her desk for a while before standing up. She had intended to ask Shang Ruixi to go to dinner, only to find the girl clutching her stomach and crouching nearby. As soon as the words left her mouth, Ye Du regretted them. Obviously, she wasn’t okay; the question was a useless platitude. Looking around and seeing they were the only ones left in the room, Ye Du went behind her and rubbed her back. “Can you stand up? Or sit in the chair for a bit.” This time, Shang Ruixi shook her head slightly and pointed toward the seat. It was only then that Ye Du noticed a bright red stain on the chair.

As a girl who hadn’t yet experienced her first period, Ye Du didn’t really know what to do. Ye Sangshu had never discussed how to handle such a thing with her. She had learned about menstruation from biology books and chatter among classmates. The first time she heard it mentioned was during PE class; a girl next to her said her “Great Aunt” (a common Chinese euphemism for a period) had arrived. Ye Du hadn’t caught on and asked if she needed to go pick her aunt up. The girls burst into laughter, and one explained that the term sounded more elegant and less shameful for public use. Ye Du didn’t understand where the shame came from. According to the dictionary, shame arises from a deficiency or being different from the norm, but the books said menstruation was a natural biological phenomenon. By that logic, shouldn’t one feel “ashamed” for not having it? However, looking at Shang Ruixi’s obvious distress, Ye Du had no desire to dwell on the philosophy of it.

Shang Ruixi seemed to feel slightly better. She leaned on Ye Du’s forearm to stand up, fished a thin object from her bag to hide in her hand, and asked Ye Du if she could accompany her to the restroom. Under the circumstances, Ye Du naturally agreed.

“I have dysmenorrhea (period cramps), so my reaction is very intense when it first starts. Today is the first day, so it’s worse.” Ye Du supported Shang Ruixi’s weight as they walked toward the dormitory. Hearing her speak, Ye Du thought her condition seemed better than it looked—she wondered if she could let go of her arm.

“I haven’t started my period yet,” Ye Du said truthfully, her grip not loosening.

“I didn’t expect you to see me like this,” Shang Ruixi said, seemingly to Ye Du, but perhaps also to herself. Every time her cramps were bad, Shang Ruixi would take leave and retreat to her dorm to endure it. Sometimes the pain was so unbearable she would soak her pillow with tears. She didn’t want anyone to see her this way—needing care and concern. If she was to be seen, it had to be during her moments of glory, not a moment like this.

“You sound quite dissatisfied,” Ye Du remarked.

“It’s okay. Better than I imagined.”

“Save your energy. What do you want to eat? I’ll bring it back for you.” Ye Du suddenly felt that she and Shang Ruixi were actually the same kind of person—both harboring a bottled-up energy, saving it up for the day they could finally burst into bloom.

When Ye Du brought the porridge back to the dorm, she truly hadn’t expected Shang Ruixi to be pushing herself to study in such a state. She had chosen a comfortable side-lying position, holding a test paper in her right hand and muttering to herself. Ye Du worried that if she kept this up long-term, Shang Ruixi might develop a permanent squint.

“How about eating first?” Ye Du asked tentatively. She wasn’t sure what Shang Ruixi was like when she was in the “study zone” and didn’t want to act rashly.

“Okay, in a second,” the tone sounded friendly enough.

The other two girls sharing the room hadn’t returned yet. Ye Du took out her own test papers and notes to study. After finishing one problem, she noticed Shang Ruixi was still in the exact same position. She looked at the porridge, called out to her again, and received the same “in a second” answer.

Shang Ruixi seemed frozen in place on the bed. Ye Du couldn’t let it go; she couldn’t settle down to study at all. Finally, she simply snatched the test paper from Shang Ruixi’s hand and replaced it with the bowl of porridge. Only after this exchange was complete could Ye Du finally sit down at the desk and begin her review.