Princess Dress and Iron Shirt (4)

The temperature took a sharp dive over the weekend. While the drop wasn't as dramatic as it was in northern Taiwan, it was enough to force everyone on campus into long-sleeved shirts and long pants. Along with the weather, Zhao Shihua's attitude towards others also changed.

Ever since her humble wish to hide her identity and change her appearance was extinguished by Shao Yifu's fire, Zhao Shihua began to live a life of despair. On the surface, she transformed from a cautious, even timid person to a cheerful and self-deprecating girl, but the bitterness in her heart was probably only known to herself.

"Shihua, the light-flying skills shown in ancient costume dramas, did anyone really know how to fly in the past?"

—Yeah, there were people who floated on the water before. Also, how did you get into Yangzhong with your brain?

"Shihua, we don't have to be afraid to go out at night anymore, because you're here to protect us!"

"I'm studying martial arts, not combat. Am I supposed to perform a set of sixteen moves of the enemy-capturing fist in front of the bad guys? The question is, when can you, a boarding student, leave the campus at night?"

Even when faced with the ridicule of the instigator, Zhao Shihua was able to deal with it with a forced smile.

Once, Shao Yifu handed Zhao Shihua a bottle of Coke from behind, pretending that he had just finished playing basketball and that he didn't have the strength to open it. Zhao Shihua took it and pretended to be deaf, asking, "Is this for me? Thank you!" After unscrewing it, he immediately gulped down half the bottle. Shao Yifu was dumbfounded on the spot. He was anxious to grab the bottle back, but he didn't know whether to drink it or not. In the end, he had to pick up the kettle and fill it with water in shame.

Another time, during geography class, they mentioned ethnic minorities. After class, Shao Yifu maliciously asked if she was from the Zhuang ethnic group, which was why she was so strong and muscular. Zhao Shihua, furious, had never been so sharp-tongued before. She immediately asked him if he was from the Baoan ethnic group. After all, "one man guards the pass, ten thousand men cannot break through," isn't that just a gatekeeper? Shao Yifu, who knew no more than five of the fifty-five ethnic minorities, immediately shut up and secretly looked up an encyclopedia about the Baoan people.

It was just that jokes about "female macho" and "strongman" and so on kept coming back, buzzing around her like annoying flies for over a week before gradually dying down. But once she got a little attention, her bad taste would be rekindled and burst into flames.

It happened to be raining outside during a physical education class in late November. Physical education at Yangzhong is an elective. In the first half of the semester, several classes take the class together. In the second half, students can choose their favorite sports based on their interests. Of course, the options are limited, just a few: football, basketball, badminton, and table tennis.

The next three classes were all held in indoor gyms, but soccer class was the only one that depended on the weather. If it rained, the soccer students would come to the gym for physical training, and in the second half of class, they would often join in the fun with the other groups, which was certainly disruptive.

This time was no exception. Zhao Shihua's badminton group was practicing high-flying shots. To help the girls master the power of their shots, the instructor assigned stronger boys to the other side to feed the ball. Due to the gender ratio, Zhao Shihua was naturally assigned to the boys' group. She didn't mind, as the instructor constantly praised her clean and efficient movements, so she gladly accepted the assignment.

The thud of the ball hitting back and forth with Zhuo Siqi, the creak of sneakers scraping against the floor, and the rumble of rain hitting the roof all brought Zhao Shihua a momentary sense of peace, a kind of forgetfulness. If only every day could be this ordinary: study hard, play hard, make friends, and strive for college, slowly navigating a youth that, though not as dazzling, was still beautiful. At some point, she almost understood why her mother kept persuading her sister to take the civil service exam, because a stable daily life is such a rare blessing.

But when Shao Yifu from the football team passed by, Zhao Shihua was easily pulled back to reality from her fantasy. Her heart sank, like a stone that caused a thousand ripples. The next second, she lost her grip, and the ball hit the edge of the racket and fell crookedly in front of the net.

"Good shot!" Shao Yifu clapped his hands vigorously. After watching for half a minute, he pulled Li Xuping over and asked her, "Can we join? Let's play mixed doubles?"

"Fight with bare hands?" Even Li Xuping felt annoyed that his companions spoke without thinking.

However, Shao Yifu was very active. Before Zhao Shihua could say that they were practicing and had no time to play with others, he ran out and back like a whirlwind, got the approval of the physical education teacher, and successfully borrowed two rackets.

He took the initiative to stand opposite Zhao Shihua, divided the team on his own, and challenged with a professional attitude: "Come on!"

Forced to accept the challenge, Zhao Shihua glanced around and found no empty courts. Zhuo Siqi didn't seem particularly pleased either. She had always disdained playing with three-year-olds, and unlike Zhao Shihua, she didn't even bother to maintain a superficial politeness. She simply leaned her racket against the net post and explained, "I'm going to take a break and go to the bathroom. You guys can go play first."

"Then I'll go too."

Zhao Shihua copied and pasted Zhuo Siqi's movements exactly. Just as he put down his racket, he heard a provocative voice from behind: "Hey! Why are you all leaving? That's really mean."

If patience is a skill, then Zhao Shihua would definitely fail the exam. She started taking this course in junior high school and reviewed it before entering her freshman year of high school. Only when she actually entered the exam room did she realize the examiners were incredibly tricky and the questions were all beyond her scope.

"It's just a game of ball. Are you so afraid of losing?" Shao Yifu asked another question.

"Who's afraid of losing? Li Xuping, get out of the way!" Zhao Shihua was completely impatient. Like a barrel of explosives that had been stored for years and suddenly ignited by a spark, he immediately bent down, grabbed the handle again, and pointed it directly at Shao Yifu across from him. The sound of the wind whistling as he swung the racket was even heard. "I want to challenge you to a duel. Let's see who's stronger."

No more nonsense. She serves first. The opponent returns. Then Gao Yuan hits the ball. Then Gao Yuan returns the ball.

She had received fairly professional training as a child, and although that had been three years ago, her skills had remained strong, giving her a good chance of winning in a head-on attack. However, Shao Yifu's repeated underhanded tactics forced her to fight with all her might. It was clearly just an ordinary practice session, but Zhao Shihua felt as nervous as if she were actually in an Olympic final.

Physical education class was already halfway through, and many students were gradually growing tired. However, the competition between them was becoming increasingly intense, attracting several spectators nearby. However, her seriousness wasn't just a matter of appearances. While she was fiercely competitive, she knew full well that she was embarking on a battle of revenge.

Bang! —Why me, of all people?

Bang! —I've already apologized, what else do you want?

Bang! —Do you have to team up with others to embarrass me just to be happy?

She wiped the sweat from her forehead, having long forgotten the score. After calming down, she served again. A diagonal lob from the front court was met with a backhand lob from the opponent's back. Here came her chance!

Zhao Shihua tilted her head back, staring intently at the ball as it swung towards her from the opposite direction. The glaring white light from the high-ceiling lamp made it difficult for her to open her eyes, and her eye sockets felt sore and swollen. She took a step forward, moved into the right position, raised her racket, and, seizing the perfect moment, leaped high and unleashed a powerful smash.

Generally speaking, a spike should be placed where the opponent cannot reach it to ensure a score; otherwise, it is not called a "smash." Although Zhao Shihua was familiar with the key technical points, he subconsciously aimed his shot at Shao Yifu.

Because of the force, a feather broke free from the shuttlecock and slowly fell. As she had hoped, the shuttlecock hit Shao Yifu on the head. He quickly covered his head with his hands and glared at her angrily. Strangely, Zhao Shihua heard a scream of "Ah" from deep in her throat.

Zhao Shihua could never have expected that revenge and retribution would happen at the same time.

Just as she landed after jumping, her right foot suddenly felt as if it had stepped directly on a knife blade. A piercing pain suddenly hit her, reminding her of the experience of spraining her ankle on a trampoline on a distant festival.