“Hahahaha—!”
Xu Ye had said it as a joke.
And everyone took it as one.
The second he finished, the whole room burst out laughing.
Over by the door, the counselor’s eyes lingered on him for a few seconds, the corner of her mouth curling up.
Zhang Yiyang caught that smile on Su Tong’s face immediately, and it stung. When he’d given his own speech, the applause hadn’t been half this enthusiastic — and here was this Xu Ye guy, three sentences and done, getting the whole room to play along.
A crisis.
For the first time, Zhang Yiyang felt something like a crisis.
The introductions kept going. Once everyone in the class had taken their turn at the platform, Counselor Su Tong stepped forward again. “Remember, don’t be late this afternoon. If anything comes up, report it to me right away. All right, you’re all free to head to the cafeteria.”
With that, the class filed out in twos and threes.
Zhang Xinzhou, Xu Ye, and Yang Fei walked up and grabbed Li Tongwen, ready to head to the cafeteria together — but right then—
“Xu Ye—” Su Tong called out, stopping him.
Xu Ye turned, easy as anything. “You called, Counselor?”
She smiled. “Add me on WeChat. I might need to reach you about something later.”
“Sure.” There was no real reason to say no, so he obediently added her, then headed off to the cafeteria with his three roommates.
With military training starting that afternoon, every other department on campus had also been called in for assembly that morning, so the cafeteria at lunch was packed beyond belief — calling it a sea of people wouldn’t have been an exaggeration.
Yang Fei, drawing on extensive research, rattled off his findings. “Okay, I already scouted this out. Cafeteria One has good stone-pot rice, Shin Ramyun, and beef-seaweed soup. Cafeteria Two has a solid egg stone-pot, mala stir-fry, and the steak-and-chicken-cutlet combo on the third floor. Cafeteria Three’s beef mini hot pot and big plate chicken [TL: a Xinjiang specialty — chicken stewed with potatoes and peppers, served family-style on one large communal plate] are top-tier too. What’s everyone feeling?”
“I had the stone-pot rice yesterday,” Xu Ye said. “I’ll try something else.”
“I’ll go look around too,” Zhang Xinzhou added.
Xu Ye nodded, pointing at a few open seats. “We’ll all grab our own food and meet back here.”
“Deal.”
Xu Ye got in line and came back with a bowl of braised pork rib rice. Yang Fei and Zhang Xinzhou trickled back not long after — Zhang Xinzhou with a few small side dishes, Yang Fei with chicken cutlet rice. Li Tongwen showed up last, his tray the plainest of the bunch: the standard one-meat-one-vegetable combo.
Xu Ye tried a bite of the pork rib, then pushed the bowl toward the middle of the table. “Something’s off about these ribs compared to the ones I get at home. Try it and tell me what you think.”
Yang Fei, not following at all, just grabbed a piece and popped it in his mouth. “Tastes fine to me.”
“Yeah? Li Tongwen, you try a piece.”
Li Tongwen nodded, picked up a small piece, chewed it over. “These were probably frozen. Just not very fresh, that’s all.”
“Huh. I’ll try a different place tomorrow, then.”
Xu Ye dug into the rest with no further complaints. Once they’d all finished eating, the four of them headed back to the dorm. With military training that afternoon and the sun blazing outside, they cranked the AC and crashed for a midday nap.
Xu Ye opened WeChat and sent Chen Qingqing a message.
Xu Ye: Training tough?
Chen Qingqing: Tough.
Xu Ye: I start mine this afternoon too.
Chen Qingqing: We get a break every half hour though. Our instructor’s a woman.
Xu Ye: A break every thirty minutes? That sounds way too easy.
Xu Ye: By the way, how many guys are in your class?
Chen Qingqing: Don’t know.
Chen Qingqing: Like five or six.
Xu Ye: Any of them better looking than me?
Chen Qingqing: All of them.
Xu Ye: You’re joking. There aren’t more than a handful of guys in this whole country better looking than me.
Chen Qingqing: There aren’t more than a handful of guys in this whole country with as much shamelessness as you.
Xu Ye: Taking a nap at lunch?
Chen Qingqing: Yeah.
Xu Ye: Together?
Chen Qingqing: Get lost!
…
At two in the afternoon, all forty-five students of Financial Economics Class 1, Class of 2014, had assembled on the sports field.
The drill instructors hadn’t arrived yet, but Zhang Yiyang had already “volunteered” to arrange everyone by height into five rows. Xu Ye and Zhang Xinzhou ended up in the back row, Yang Fei in the fourth, Li Tongwen in the third.
It was September, and the sun was merciless.
They’d barely been standing on the rubberized track for a few minutes before half the class was already drenched in sweat.
“I should’ve had my old man get me a fake doctor’s note,” Zhang Xinzhou muttered. “Then I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this.”
Xu Ye laughed. “Military training carries actual credits. If we can’t even pass the one class that doesn’t require an exam, how are we supposed to graduate senior year?”
“Let’s just hope we get an instructor who’s reasonable,” Zhang Xinzhou said, resigned.
As the two of them talked, a tight formation of drill instructors came marching in through the entrance to the field, perfectly in step.
The moment the class spotted them, the chatter died instantly.
Among the instructors was a head instructor, and once the group reached the field, he laid out a few key points for everyone. After that, the formation broke apart, and each instructor went off to find the class they’d been assigned to.
What Zhang Xinzhou found hardest to accept was that the instructor assigned to Financial Economics Class 1 was a thick-necked, broad-shouldered wall of a man who looked like he did not take kindly to nonsense.
“My name is Cheng Yong. For the next two weeks, I’ll be in charge of your training. There are a few rules I want to lay out right now, before we go any further…”
Right out of the gate, Cheng Yong made sure to put the fear of god into them.
“What are you moving for! Did I say you could move?”
“Wiping sweat? Report it to me first! From this point forward, anything you do in this formation, you report to me. Is that clear?”
“Clear!”
“Did you skip lunch or something?”
“Clear, sir!”
“Whole formation — attention! At ease! Eyes left, dress!”
“This afternoon, I’m not going to teach you a single thing. Your only job is to learn to stand at attention. Remember what I just said — if you have a problem, report it.”
“…”
Everything after that was, frankly, deeply boring. Forty-some students stood at attention on the rubberized track under the blazing sun, sweating more in one afternoon than they had in the entire summer combined.
Mercifully, Cheng Yong wasn’t cruel enough to deny them rest entirely — roughly once an hour, he’d give everyone a ten-minute break.
“Has your class picked a room leader yet?”
“Not yet, sir.”
“Last row — give me two of your taller guys to go haul a couple buckets of mineral water from the first floor of the activity center.”
Zhang Yiyang had barely started to get up when Cheng Yong barked, “You’re in the last row, aren’t you? Yeah, you. What are you smirking about? You two, go get the water.”
Zhang Xinzhou, watching Zhang Yiyang get put in his place, couldn’t help cracking a smile — which the instructor caught instantly, dragging Xu Ye into it as collateral damage.
“Zhang Xinzhou, you absolute—”
“Don’t whine. I’ll buy you a juice tonight… Xu Ye, would you walk faster, for god’s sake.”
“The slower we walk, the longer their break lasts. What’s the rush?”
“Aren’t you scared of getting yelled at?”
“Not even a little.”
Ten minutes later, Zhang Xinzhou and Xu Ye sauntered back with the water at a leisurely pace. Cheng Yong marched right up and demanded, “I’m asking you two — could you possibly have gone any slower? People who left after you already made it back.”
Xu Ye quickly offered up an excuse. “Reporting, sir, I twisted my ankle a little on the way back. Want to take a look?”
He started to pull off his shoe and sock.
Cheng Yong took two quick steps back, waving him off with a look of pure disgust. “Fine, fine, forget it. You two, you’re in charge of handing out the water. Ladies first.”
“All right, listen up — one disposable cup per person per day, drink it and clean up after yourselves.”
“What kind of crap is that — instructor literally just said ladies first, where’s your chivalry, man?”
“Zhang Xinzhou, save some for us, would you? I couldn’t even piss earlier, I’m that dehydrated.”
“How does nobody think to put ice in the water on a day this hot?”
“Whoever gets me a bite of ice-cold watermelon right now, I will call that man my father.”
(End of Chapter)