The Man of Wind and the Man of Earth (1)
As the saying goes, "Don't hit someone who smiles at you, and don't scold someone who gives you a gift."
Zhao Shihua had always been vulnerable to flattery and praise. She wasn't the type to float away easily, like a balloon. Rather, she simply didn't believe she was truly worthy of recognition and praise. Therefore, she often returned the favors others offered her, tenfold or even a hundredfold, to maintain a balance and avoid feeling indebted.
She had never really considered the source of this habit of lowering her self-esteem. She didn't know if it was the constant emphasis on humility in school's moral education classes, which only caused her to puff up her pride for a few days before being tamed again; or if she should blame the inexplicable crackdown in junior high—it seemed like there were always one or two students in every class who became the random target of public criticism, turning her back into the timid little girl she'd been when she'd just moved from the countryside to the city.
Over time, acquired habits and innate nature merged together, and even she could not tell which was her true self: the domineering hero or the self-deprecating marginal figure.
In short, Zhao Shihua instinctively smiled back at those who offered her a smile and a gift, like a mirror, managing to avoid surrendering on the spot. While she wasn't as magnanimous as a bodhisattva to directly accept the gift and apology, at least she managed to rebuff the harsh words she'd memorized, leaving only the remark, "I've already eaten."
"Ah? You can't walk?"
"Hey, Uncle Shao, are you treating us like we don't exist?" Xu Jiamei had sharp ears and could hear someone doubting her noble act of helping others even from across the group. She quickly retorted, "Of course we bought it!"
"And you didn't tell me." Zhao Shihua also frowned, trying to clear himself of the suspicion of wasting food.
"Because my phone was confiscated again! It was the day before yesterday, when I was sending you a message——"
Zhao Shihua recalled what had happened and realized that "I'll go" didn't refer to the teacher's office, but was an interjection. He had, inadvertently, gotten his phone put in detention. It was a kind of revenge, and he couldn't help but feel both angry and amused.
After a while, Shao Yifu seemed to be still convinced that he had to give her a loving breakfast to make sure they would not owe each other anything, so he asked her quietly, "What about tomorrow? How about I buy you breakfast tomorrow?"
Zhao Shihua turned around and saw Shao Yifu with his hands covering half his face with his English book from morning reading. He looked a little embarrassed. Suddenly, an idea came to him and he pretended to ask casually, "Will you treat me?"
Seeing him nod violently, the hair on his forehead shook like a messy chicken coop, and the idea of revenge took over again. She suddenly remembered the tasteless pancakes and ordered a large amount of food in revenge: "Okay, then I want the pancakes from the back door, with eggs, ham, pork tenderloin and chicken fillets. Also, buy me a bottle of aloe vera juice, thank you!" It can be said that she truly realized the "pancake wraps everything" concept.
Even though fortunes change, wouldn't the next line be "Next year, it'll be my turn?" Zhao Shihua crossed her legs, feeling a little proud. She hadn't expected the fortunes to turn to her today. A month or two ago, she'd been secretly courting Shao Yifu, only to find herself in a thankless position, stirring up a hornet's nest of gossip. Now, she was in the driver's seat, with him even offering her tea and water. It was unbelievable.
Especially during the afternoon self-study class, Shao Yifu actually volunteered to hand over his biology book and said, "This is my notes from yesterday afternoon, why don't you take a look?" It vaguely reminded her of the last time he forgot to bring his glasses, and when she lent him her political science book, she was ridiculed for her notes being "so colorful that it made my eyes dizzy."
Zhao Shihua didn't actually need it; she'd already received tutoring from her deskmate the previous night. Zhuo Siqi's notes were essentially a final summary, like concentrated juice. While they contained the essence, they were too thick to digest. She simply copied them down hastily, dedicating time to digesting them.
So she took Shao Yifu's textbook, ostensibly to review his notes, but in reality, hoping to find a chance to retort. However, the moment she opened the book, Zhao Shihua was stunned: the notes were a mess, with arrows pointing left and right, and transposition symbols everywhere. The typos were horrific. And because he wrote slowly, many complex characters were only halfway written. It was clear that he was listening attentively, but what he had written down was like a mysterious book, and she had no ability to decipher it.
However, since Confucius taught: "When three people walk together, there must be one who can be my teacher," Zhao Shihua seriously took out his mechanical pencil, circled all the wrong characters one by one, and also filled in the missing radicals. It felt like he had completed a Chinese language error correction problem.
"You're welcome." She closed the book and walked back without looking back.
Shao Yifu was probably listening to music with his headphones on again, so he probably didn't hear what she said. He bounced back like a signal amplifier: "You're welcome!"
Thanks to the timely treatment of the sprain, Zhao Shihua no longer needed help by Friday. However, she pretended to be seriously injured when she entered the classroom, intending to use this as an excuse to extort more money from Shao Yifu in the next few days as compensation for her medical expenses.
She was craving the Big Mac multi-grain pancake, so she woke up, drank a glass of water, and rushed to the teaching building. But when the bell rang for morning reading, Shao Yifu still hadn't arrived. Did he stand her up? As Zhao Shihua clutched her empty stomach, she thought to herself, when she heard hurried footsteps behind her.
"Why are you so late? Morning reading has already started!" Facing Shao Yifu, she was not polite at all, and completely tore off the mask of human relations in the name of "once we were classmates, we will be friends forever".
"--I'm sorry!" Shao Yifu didn't even have time to put down his schoolbag. He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes as if praying to Buddha. "The pancakes are gone!"
Zhao Shihua's eyes widened, and he was so angry that he couldn't say a word. Was this a deliberate revenge?
"I wasn't late, and there was still more than a minute before the bell rang. But the guard at the back door insisted that I was late. He grabbed me and confiscated your breakfast, saying that bringing food into the campus is not allowed. When did the school add this rule?" Shao Yifu secretly opened half of his eyes, observing her reaction. "Oh, right! Was he your coach before? Why don't you go ask him for it back?"
Who said, "Catch him harder?" It was like shooting oneself in the foot. Who can I blame? I can't blame Master for having a bad memory. It was dark, and she just pointed casually, and Master remembered it.
Zhao Shihua was so hungry that he felt dizzy and wanted to call his master. He took out his address book but found that he had forgotten to keep the other party's contact information. He thought that this luxurious breakfast would probably become Xiang Feiyu's luxurious lunch in the end.
Seeing her silence, Shao Yifu assumed she was furious, so he hurriedly rummaged through his schoolbag and pulled out a large green plastic bottle. He placed it on the table with a thud, proving its immense weight. "But I brought aloe vera juice! 1.5 liters, definitely enough for you to drink for the whole day."
The morning math classes were two consecutive periods, and the ten-minute break between classes wasn't even enough time to go to the canteen. Zhao Shihua had to rely on guzzling aloe vera juice to drown out the throng of frogs beating vigorously in her stomach; even so, one or two still popped out and croaked during the quiet, embarrassing her.
If Zhao Shihua had not been indoctrinated with materialistic ideas in class since childhood, he really wanted to look up the horoscopes of the two people to calculate whether they had a blood feud that wiped out their entire family in their previous life, and that was why the other party was intentionally or unintentionally trying to trip him up in this life.
After school, Zhao Shihua, leaning against the wall, slowly made her way to the gymnastics office by the playground. On the way, she wondered what her zodiac sign's nemesis was. She didn't know what month Shao Yifu was born, but since she had never heard of it before, she at least ruled out September, October, and November, which had already passed.
Speaking of zodiac signs, she suddenly remembered that Pei Nachuan's birthday was at the end of the year, exactly one month from now. She remembered that when Xu Jiamei found out, she said that Pei Nachuan was truly celebrating another year.
"Zhao Shihua?" The boy's voice popped into her mind, startling her. It was like she'd won the lottery. She couldn't help but smile, thinking how wonderful it was that people met by chance. Then, turning around, she saw Zhu Miaoyan, Xu Jiamei, and Shao Yifu standing in a row at the other end of the corridor, about ten meters away. They were paired up, like a poster for a youth film.
She looked at the notebook in Pei Nachuan's hand in confusion, then glanced back at the office behind her. Only then did she realize that the four of them were also here for a meeting. She had originally thought that the Cultural and Sports Department that Teacher Mei was referring to was just a few people from the Student Union, but she hadn't expected it to include the Cultural and Sports Committee members from each class.
"Why are you here too?" Zhu Miaoyan was the first to run up and take her hand. During the class leadership selection after the start of the school year, she had been chosen as the cultural and entertainment committee member because of her versatility.
Zhao Shihua wasn't a class leader or a student union member; at best, she was just a group leader, responsible for collecting homework. She didn't want to explain everything from beginning to end, as she thought others would get bored. She simply said, "I'll help," to get by.
"Help? Acting as a liaison?" Zhu Miaoyan seemed to understand the purpose of this meeting. "But your leg is injured. Can you walk as far as Guangdong University?"
Zhao Shihua had been thinking about whether she could just go to the scene, but after hearing Zhu Miaoyan's question, she couldn't help but think she was worrying too much. As a child, she never cried even when she bumped into something, let alone a sprained ankle. There was no need to be waited on like a spoiled brat for two weeks. She quickly waved her hands, saying she was fine, and practically danced in front of her.
Unfortunately, most people shared Zhu Miaoyan's opinion, including Teacher Mei. Ultimately, Teacher Mei didn't send her to Guangdong University, but instead assigned her to a dispensable position: helping direct traffic at the school gate.
It's unclear whether Teacher Mei was simply trying to comfort Zhao Shihua, or if she had miscalculated the total number of cultural and sports committee members for each of the first and second grade classes. Looking at the crowded scene, it was clear that no additional volunteers were needed. Zhao Shihua couldn't help but feel completely redundant, and the meeting's topic completely irrelevant to her. Unconsciously, she gradually retreated to a corner, like an uninvited guest at a party, feeling both embarrassed and frustrated.
After the meeting, Teacher Mei came to see her alone and explained what she was supposed to do. A few minutes later, she came out to find her four classmates still waiting for her at the door. Although Zhao Shihua repeatedly insisted she could walk on her own, Zhu Miaoyan and Xu Jiamei insisted on supporting her from both sides.
Around six o'clock, the campus gradually emptied out, and the paths were almost deserted. The five of them walked side by side, excitedly discussing the coming week. These fifteen or sixteen-year-old students, entrusted with organizing a large-scale marathon-like event, felt like the first time their parents had sent them shopping as children. Their excitement grew as the day approached.
Zhao Shihua was clearly right in the middle, yet she felt like a gray figure fading away. People on either side of her walked around her, describing the day's events—who would lead and who would be the last, who had a bike and needed to ride farther ahead, who was assigned to the front of the university cafeteria so they could go buy food afterward, and so on... Their words pierced through her, and her presence felt as thin as invisible, intangible air.
"What a pity, Shihua, you can't participate this time." Xu Jiamei suddenly turned the topic to herself.
"Yeah, you took part in the long-distance race during the school sports meet and even won a place," Zhu Miaoyan agreed. Then, recalling her own experience collapsing at the finish line, she sighed heavily. "That time I was exhausted to death. It seems I'm not destined for sports anymore. Luckily, I can just follow slowly from the back this time. And your excellent stamina, is it related to your past martial arts training?"
Being dragged into confronting a past she'd rather bury was like being forced to stare at a bright flash of light, stinging her eyes. Zhao Shihua couldn't hold back her anger in front of everyone, so she stammered, "...maybe."
She truly regretted not taking ballet, something like that, and transforming from an ugly duckling into a graceful swan. It seemed that learning kung fu would forever brand her as "strong," "tough," and "female macho." But if she had truly taken up ballet, she might have been ridiculed, with people saying, "Zhao Shihua, why are your calves as thick as pillars?" It's easy to find a pretext for a crime.
"I remember hearing that you used to be very strong and even won arm wrestling or something?" Zhu Miaoyan turned her head and asked Shao Yifu beside her, "You said that last time, right?"
"...I said it? I, I don't remember, I didn't say that." Shao Yifu scratched his head, and for some reason there was a hint of guilt in his tone, "But some people may practice martial arts because they are not in good health, right?" After he said that, he leaned over and glanced at Zhao Shihua, blinking as if hoping to get affirmation.
"That's clearly what you said. I was there too. Don't pretend to be forgetful." Xu Jiamei said indignantly, "Besides, wasn't it you who caused Shihua's ankle sprain?"
"I already told you I didn't mean it! Don't I apologize every day now?" Shao Yifu said, then put on a smiling face and looked at him, "What would you like for breakfast next week?"
Zhao Shihua had no idea why Shao Yifu had suddenly become such a flatterer, considering he'd been trying so hard to get her into trouble. But she didn't have time to dwell on the reason—her heart was practically in her throat because she was waiting for the other person's reaction, and that person had remained silent.
Ever since the photo incident, she had been trying to avoid any possible contact or conversation with him. Zhao Shihua always wanted to know, but she never dared to find out.
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