Chapter 60 The East Wind Blows, the War Drums Beat—Where Does This Road Lead...?

Grandma stayed in the hospital for about a month and recovered quite well. Li Leshan stopped letting her go to the market to buy discounted groceries every evening. The old lady was reluctant; she just wanted to move around a bit. Last time, she hadn't noticed her eyesight was failing and hadn't been careful on the stairs. But Li Leshan still insisted that she not go. This was the first time he had gone against the old lady's wishes; at least she couldn't go that far, and someone needed to be there to look after her.

Days flowed by like water, gently passing through Sanxiang and Shengping.

The weather was getting warmer, and Jiang Yueming needed a haircut. Sister Yiyi gave him a trendy haircut, which looked really cool, not the non-mainstream kind. Jiang Yueming couldn't pull off that kind of haircut, and if he stepped into the gates of No. 1 High School with that hair, he'd probably get beaten to death by Wu Jinzhong with a stick.

Amidst the chaos of war, the second mock exam was over. Taking advantage of the one-day weekend, Jiang Yueming lay casually on Li Leshan's bed, the math exam paper peacefully covering his face, with obvious scribbles and marks on it.

"Lele—" Jiang Yueming wailed.

Actually, calling out to Li Leshan is fine; he just wanted to shout it out. He doesn't need any response from Li Leshan; he just feels happy and at ease shouting it out.

Hearing the sound, Li Leshan turned around. The kid had just been sitting cross-legged on the bed writing his exam paper, and now he was lying down again. A smile played on his lips as he gestured to Jiang Yueming, "Tired?"

"Aren't you tired?" Jiang Yueming asked in shock.

He had been writing for at least two or three hours, and had even finished one and a half sets of test papers like Jiang Yueming. He slowly got out of bed, pulled up a chair, and sat down next to Li Leshan.

"Don't you get tired of sitting here every day? The sky outside." Jiang Yueming looked in that direction and saw a locust tree behind the window, with the ivy just climbing halfway up.

Li Leshan shook his head, saying he didn't watch it often.

Indeed, all I see all day is exam papers; I don't have much time to actually enjoy the scenery.

The sewing machine was piled high with books and test papers, completely different from Jiang Yueming's desk. The exercise books that Jiang Yueming had given to Li Leshan back then had all been completed and set aside after all this time.

In the center of the desk, a brown paper envelope stood out conspicuously. Jiang Yueming's gaze lingered on the envelope for several seconds. He was about to reach for it when he immediately felt embarrassed. After all, it belonged to someone else, and he couldn't just take it and open it without permission.

What's inside? Jiang Yueming wondered.

Who did he write to? Who replied to him? These questions occupied Jiang Yueming's mind. It couldn't be his grandmother, so who else could it be?

Is it money? Is money kept here?

Could it be... a love letter?

...

Boys write to girls, girls write to boys. These days, love letters are nothing special; frankly, they're all too common. Although Jiang Yueming has never written one for anyone else—oh wait, he has. He wrote one for Cao Fan back in elementary school, but never actually gave it to her. Over the years, he's received some from other people. Young girls, just beginning to experience love, would secretly slip them into his desk during PE class or after school, filled with anticipation and longing.

Some of the writing was very literary, so much so that even the literary-minded Jiang Yueming couldn't quite understand it. He remembered the day he graduated from elementary school, when a little girl blushed and called his name, ending with, "You are my moon." Jiang Yueming obliviously thought she was reciting a poem, only realizing much later that it might have been a girl's confession.

Even now, he stared at the envelope, examining it repeatedly, as if trying to see right through it and see what was inside. Who wrote it to Li Leshan, or who did Li Leshan write it to?

The words of hesitation stuck in her throat, unable to be uttered. Jiang Yueming pondered for a long time, but ultimately asked nothing.

Suddenly feeling a touch, Jiang Yueming quickly snapped back to reality. He noticed a puzzled look in Li Leshan's eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" Li Leshan asked.

Jiang Yueming's gaze flickered for a moment, shifting from the envelope to the window. She stammered, "I...I was thinking...I wasn't thinking anything..."

Can he say what he's thinking? Can he even say that? How can he say it?

So Jiang Yueming suppressed his curiosity about the envelope, just as he had suppressed his curiosity about Li Leshan's essay back then. Only this time, he might not have the chance to rummage through the scrap yard again, because Li Leshan would definitely not throw this away. But he figured he probably wouldn't be as foolish as he was three years ago.

“By the way,” Jiang Yueming suddenly remembered something when this was mentioned, “what was your wish when the fireworks were set off at Lijiang Bridge in 2008?”

His original wish was to get into Shishi High School and study with Li Leshan. He and Li Leshan had made a promise then, to see if his wish had come true. Now, in another six months, he would know the outcome of his wish; he wondered how many more years it would take for Li Leshan's.

Li Leshan looked at him, his eyes as deep as the sea. He was about to say something when Jiang Yueming hurriedly stopped him, "Never mind, it's not the right time yet. I'm afraid it won't work if I say it."

Although he had already expressed his true desire.

But I don't think I'll be that unlucky.

With less than three months to go before the high school entrance exam, No. 1 Middle School organized a mobilization meeting. It was one of those motivational gurus that Han Jiang hated the most. In the early spring, the air was still a bit chilly, and the ninth graders stood on the playground. Although they were wearing winter school uniforms, they were still a little cold.

Jiang Yueming and Li Leshan stood at the back of the line, making the most of every second to memorize English words. Each of them had a dictionary that could be easily slipped into their pocket, and they could start memorizing as soon as they opened it.

The dictionary had been thoroughly rummaged through by Jiang Yueming, making it look like a third-hand book, but it was actually a genuine first-hand book. If it were sold as a secondhand book, it would probably be sold for several times less, and even then, it might not sell. After the exams, it could be passed down to Tian Tian. Although it's a 1500-word dictionary for junior high, early birds get to work; it might be a little late to start memorizing it now.

There was a senior student in the alley who was preparing for the postgraduate entrance exam. She was so tormented by English that she cried out in despair every day, and decided to start having her three-year-old sister memorize the exam vocabulary right away. Compared to her, Jiang Yueming was far too kind.

"Where are you on your vocabulary list?" Li Leshan patted him on the shoulder.

“Words that start with P,” Jiang Yueming said, sounding slightly guilty. He had forgotten the ones he had memorized, and had no recollection of the ones he hadn’t memorized at all. To be honest, it was as if he hadn’t memorized them at all. Besides, with less than three months left until the exam, he had only memorized up to “P”. When would he ever be able to memorize “Z”?

Carry him for a lifetime. Is there a lifetime to carry him?

“Permanent?” Li Leshan quietly traced a line in his palm.

It's a little itchy, Jiang Yueming thought to herself.

“Per...manent? That’s too long. I probably won’t use it,” Jiang Yueming said. He hadn’t memorized any good words or phrases because he felt he wouldn’t need them. He just needed to be able to write his essays smoothly with simple sentences, so he might as well memorize a few more common words. In the end, they would just be useless and take up space in his brain.

Also, what does "permanent" mean?

On the flagpole, the motivational speaker was giving a speech that moved heaven and earth, even bringing tears to his eyes. Jiang Yueming didn't have time to listen; he had his own important business to attend to. He would have joined in the fun earlier or later, but not now.

Time passed slowly amidst the slogans for the high school entrance exam, and the inspirational quotes repeated every morning during morning exercises and evening self-study had become a habit. That slogan was the result of Wu Jinzhong spending an hour fiddling with the computer, and he felt it was particularly powerful, as if he was about to grab a sword and go to war at any moment: "The east wind blows, the war drums beat, Class 3 of Junior High is not afraid of anyone."

At first glance, it seems like Class 3 of the third year of junior high school is about to go to war and fight on all sides.

The morning exercises involved running eight laps around the track without a break. Towards the end, it was all about willpower. Jiang Yueming ran in the outer lane, shouting slogans, whistling, and adjusting the formation. It was exhausting work; the outer lane alone meant running an extra 120 meters, plus shouting slogans at least twice per lap, and constantly whistling to adjust the formation to prevent classes from colliding.

This actually happened. In northern middle schools, students run laps very close together, their toes practically touching the heels of the student in front of them. If someone steps on someone else's shoe, trips someone else, or if someone loses their footing even slightly, the entire group will fall.

Once, a little girl in the middle of the group couldn't keep up and tripped, causing the entire group to fall to the ground. Fortunately, Jiang Yueming, who was standing on the outside, reacted quickly and pulled Li Leshan back, preventing him from falling.

After eight laps, Jiang Yueming was the most exhausted. No one wanted to lead the exercise, so it had to be Jiang Yueming.

Seeing how exhausted he was, Li Leshan offered to blow the whistle and lead the race on the outer lane, so Jiang Yueming would only need to shout a slogan. Jiang Yueming refused, always joking that he was only one lane behind him, it wouldn't be that much of a difference, and he wouldn't have to run much less. Actually, he just knew the job was too tiring and didn't want Li Leshan to do it.

Han Jiang does the same job, and no one can replace him. He doesn't exercise as much as Jiang Yueming. After each exercise session, he practically has to crawl on the ground, using both his hands and feet. It's so difficult for him. This school leader really doesn't treat people like human beings. If he's so capable, let him try running eight laps.

Every time Jiang Yueming made eye contact with Han Jiang after he finished his morning exercises, he felt like he was seeing a ghost. Every time Han Jiang walked toward him, it felt like a ghost was coming to claim his life.

The old calendar on the classroom wall, which read "N days until the high school entrance exam," was seven years old, according to Wu Jinzhong. No wonder it looked like it had survived World War II. He always liked to talk about how amazing a certain student was that year. Jiang Yueming thought that after this high school entrance exam, that student Wu Jinzhong was talking about might have a different name.

No, it will definitely be renamed.

Jiang Yueming stared at the numbers on the calendar every day; these were his hopes, his only wish to end his "suffering"—one less day, one less day, and one less day. The bright red numbers stung his eyes, seemingly pointing out a path, though Jiang Yueming himself didn't know where it led.

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Author's Note: The next chapter will be super sweet! [glasses]