Hopeless Romance (GL) - Chapter 8

Chapter 8

During the long break, Qin Zibei wrote five large characters on the blackboard: “Sports Meet Registration.” Indeed, the annual Autumn Sports Meet, a source of ecstatic joy for every Yunchuan student, was scheduled for next Thursday and Friday. What did a sports meet mean? It meant no sitting upright in classrooms for lectures and no lugging heavy backpacks to and from school. Instead, students could openly share their aimless youth and bags of chips with friends—perhaps even steal a few extra glances at their crushes. It was essentially a school-sanctioned autumn field trip. Of course, it also meant that the 800m, 1000m, high jump, long jump, and relay races required enthusiastic participation. On this front, the students of Class 10 collectively adopted an “evasion tactic.”

Under Qin Zibei’s mix of soft persuasion and hard pressure, the list was finally no longer empty, but those “notorious” difficult events remained untouched. Finally, Qin Zibei declared, “How about this: if we don’t have enough volunteers by the end of the day, I’ll randomly assign people according to their student ID numbers and announce the final roster on Monday.”

Hearing this, Jiang Xinwan bolted to Qin Zibei’s desk to showcase her “skills,” using a carton of pure milk as a bribe. “Brother Qin, please, whatever you do, don’t put me in any running events. I have exercise-induced anemia. Strenuous exercise will cause me to vomit and faint on the spot.” In that brief sprint across the room, she had concocted a tragic and heroic excuse for herself.

Qin Zibei adjusted his glasses and used his pen to gently poke the head resting on his desk away. “Okay,” he said softly. Before Jiang Xinwan could celebrate, he continued, “Then you’ll do the shot put. I’ve seen your majestic form in the cafeteria line; you’re quite powerful.”

Jiang Xinwan gulped, about to argue, but Qin Zibei cut her off: “One more word and it’s the 800-meter.” One of Jiang Xinwan’s greatest virtues was knowing how to read the room; she stood up to leave immediately. Suddenly, someone grabbed her uniform. She turned to see the beloved class monitor, who gestured for her to leave the milk. Holding the carton, Qin Zibei reminded her, “Technically, you owe me one for today.”

After hearing Jiang Xinwan’s full account, Ye Du gave her a single sentence: “Thank you for giving me a vivid demonstration of the phrase ‘losing the wife and the soldiers’ (a total loss).” She patted her shoulder and left her to lean against the railing in solitary grief. This brief break-time experience solidified a thought in Jiang Xinwan’s mind: Bad guys really shouldn’t be too smart; it’s just plain bullying!

…

On the way to the cafeteria, Jiang Xinwan was still nursing her “milk grudge” and decided to ignore Ye Du, dragging Wang Zhu along at a brisk pace. A bewildered Chen Pupu looked at Ye Du, then at Jiang Xinwan.

“I just upset her,” Ye Du explained succinctly. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a major offense, but when you’re young, your heart is small—small enough to be easily filled with joy, and just as easily filled with anger. In Jiang Xinwan’s eyes, Ye Du’s failure to help her “rebel” against Qin Zibei earned her the silent treatment. Recognizing her “inappropriate” behavior, Ye Du decided to make a gesture.

“What happened?” Chen Pupu asked after a moment’s thought.

“Sports meet registration. She failed to beg Qin Zibei and got teased instead; then she told me and I laughed at her.” After hearing this, Chen Pupu felt it was no wonder Ye Du’s Chinese grades were so high—she had explained the cause and effect without a single wasted word.

“Do you have an event you want to join?” Speaking of the sports meet, Chen Pupu was actually quite excited; she loved the bustling atmosphere.

“No, but I’ll probably be assigned the 800-meter and asked to write scripts for the announcer’s booth,” Ye Du said. She was a good runner. In the past, when she fought with Ye Sangshu or when her mother lost control of her emotions, Ye Du would initially bolt out the door. But once outside, she realized she had nowhere to go. After the childish emotions settled, she still had to choose to go back, making the whole “escape” seem pathetic. That was until she started running; she discovered that physical exhaustion left her with no energy to be sad. For her, it was a low-cost coping mechanism. When Qin Zibei asked her to do the 800m, she didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she searched her memory for when she had accidentally leaked that information. Qin Zibei hadn’t asked; he had invited her. That certainty made any excuse she tried to invent feel flimsy.

“Ms. Zhang told me. You wrote ‘running’ in the interests column of your enrollment form,” Qin Zibei said, answering her silence.

Ye Du now understood Jiang Xinwan’s feelings a bit. She tried to leave herself some wiggle room: “Alright, put me down as an alternate.”

“Alternate means starter,” Qin Zibei thought silently, but he contentedly wrote down Ye Du’s name. After two days of piecing it together, Class 10’s roster was finally complete.

“800 meters? That’s so far, how do you keep going?” Chen Pupu was neither good at nor fond of sports, though she didn’t know which came first—the lack of skill or the lack of interest.

“Yeah, it’s pretty far.” Ye Du ran often, but she had never been in a timed race. She felt a twinge of worry, fearing she might be too slow and finish last—that would be quite embarrassing.

“If you really have to go, I’ll get Wang Zhu and Xinwan to cheer you on.” With her petite frame, Chen Pupu wasn’t suited for most sports, but she was perfectly capable of being a cheerleader.

Ye Du stopped suddenly and held out her pinky. Chen Pupu hesitated for a second before catching on and doing the same. “Pinky swear, hang for a hundred years, never change.” After Ye Du seriously recited the somewhat silly oath, Chen Pupu laughed and agreed.

…

Jiang Xinwan decided to stop being mad at Ye Du because Ye Du covered all her cafeteria expenses at lunch as an apology. Such a good deal couldn’t be passed up by Wang Zhu and Chen Pupu either. The phrase “share the spoils” almost crushed Ye Du’s young wallet. Jiang Xinwan bought several fried skewers and ate them while walking across the playground, finally returning for the noon nap while letting out burps that tasted like fish balls. Of course, later, when Ye Du ran out of money and had to rely on the three of them for food, the group felt a twinge of regret—such is the cycle of karma.

Beyond the events, the class formations were a highlight of the meet, especially the leaders. A leader needed a good appearance, temperament, and physique—for Class 10, it was naturally Jiang Zhouchi. Her beauty was well-known across the grade; boys from other classes frequently sent gifts and letters. It wasn’t that the boys in Class 10 didn’t like her type; it was just that Jiang Zhouchi looked down on them and didn’t give them the time of day. Over time, their enthusiasm faded.

Coming up with a slogan was also a headache. Too formal was boring; too funny was undignified. Zhang Jianwei felt her own literary flair was lacking in this moment, so she handed the task entirely to Qin Zibei, specifically telling him not to bring it to her for a final decision. However, when she saw the finalized slogan, she felt a sliver of regret.

“Class Ten, Class Ten, truly beyond the norm; Class Ten, Class Ten, taking all the medals home!” (十班十班，非同一般；十班十班，獎牌全搬。)

When these sixteen characters appeared before her, she felt that Chen Chao would likely laugh himself to death behind her back. But since she had given her word, she couldn’t go back on it. She could only accept the slogan with a tear in her eye.

The sports meet was set to open on Thursday, and preparations began on Monday. The after-school math tutoring was temporarily shelved. Everyone had to spend time practicing their formation. Though the movements were few, the focus was on synchronization. While Zhang Jianwei didn’t have high hopes for her students to dazzle everyone on the field, she insisted on a serious attitude—doing their best with what they could control.

To the surprise of the four friends, every single one of them was assigned an event. Qin Zibei was a man of his word: Ye Du and Jiang Xinwan were indeed doing the 800m and the shot put. Chen Pupu was assigned the relay race, and Wang Zhu was set for the triple jump—a technique she had never even touched. Thus, except for Ye Du, the other three threw themselves into the preparations with the principle of: “Happiness first, comfort second, and the competition a distant third.”