The Man of Wind and the Man of Earth (5)
The entire December schedule was packed with competitions for hosts, young singers, dancers, and instrumentalists – the perfect stage for anyone hoping to shine. The vibrant energy that permeated the air dispelled the winter's chill, but winter in the south rarely feels bleak, like a small, warm pot of stew served on the table.
From the bulletin boards along the school roads to the grade bulletin boards in the hallways, keywords like "Express Yourself" and "Challenge Yourself" were everywhere. Zhao Shihua, however, avoided them as much as possible, constantly darting back and forth between the classroom, dormitory, and cafeteria, her eyes fixed on the horizon, never stopping. Her swift, wind-like pace had already begun to imitate the demeanor of her deskmate, Zhuo Siqi. She was planning to take advantage of the distractions of the arts festival, studying hard, like the tortoise in the tortoise and the hare, to try to catch up a little, get a good score on the final exam, and return home for the New Year.
About half of the class shared her vision, while the other half were racing toward well-rounded development: Zhu Miaoyan, always known for her sweet, girl-next-door style, was actually planning a high-energy hip-hop dance performance; Pei Nachuan was directly nominated to host the grade party, then reluctantly entered the school-wide hosting competition; and Shao Yifu, fully committed to the principle of "integrating art and sports," had just finished his winter long-distance running and immediately signed up for singing and instrumental competitions. Zhao Shihua had never known he was so versatile.
"Like piano, violin, flute, saxophone," Shao Yifu counted on his fingers. The more Zhao Shihua listened, the wider his mouth opened, and his body shrank smaller and smaller in comparison. Finally, the second half of his sentence was, "I haven't learned any of those. I only play guitar."
It seems that although his essay score wasn't high, he mastered the writing technique of "first criticizing and then praising" to perfection. She restrained herself from attacking him, and Li Xuping, acting on his duty, struck him on the head.
"What do you play on the guitar? Pop songs?" Zhao Shihua's understanding of the guitar only stayed at the level of accompaniment.
"That's an acoustic guitar, but I play fingerstyle guitar!"
"Just playing guitar? Just playing guitar and not singing?"
"Yes, of course they don't sing when competing in musical instruments. Singing is the only competition for young singers."
Li Xuping laughed out loud. Zhao Shihua didn't understand what was so funny. He just thought, how could Shao Yifu have the time? He even signed up for two competitions. Didn't he learn to fish like a kitten in elementary school? If he was distracted, he would end up catching nothing. Then he thought, he spent most of elementary school in Canada, so he probably never learned to fish like a kitten.
As they spoke, it was almost time for school to end, and everyone was feeling a bit lazy. Shao Yifu, not caring that self-study class still had a minute or two left, pulled out a black backpack from behind him like a magic trick, unzipped it, and pulled out his guitar like a precious egg: "Clang clang clang! Do you want to hear it?"
"I don't want to." Zhao Shihua was a little impatient. If he had known, he should have passed the Chinese test paper to him and then went back to do his own thing. Now, Shao Yifu wasted several minutes of his time with his rambling.
However, Shao Yifu couldn't hear the answers he didn't want to hear. Perhaps it was this selective deafness that allowed him to survive in a once marginalized world. He took his stance, his left thumb gently brushing across the strings. A nostalgic atmosphere just began to fill the air, but it was suppressed by the school bell.
"Have you heard of Oshio-san? He is my idol! Come and listen." Although Zhao Shihua and Li Xuping shook their heads at the same time, Shao Yifu continued to turn a blind eye.
But idols become idols precisely because of the insurmountable distance between them. Zhao Shihua doesn't remember which piece of music Shao Yifu played, but she later recalled the scene when she watched a video of the performer himself. She realized that at the time, Shao Yifu's performance was roughly equivalent to a simplified version of Oshio-san's ten-times-slowed-down version.
Shao Yifu lowered his head, his long bangs drooping softly. His expression suddenly became focused, looking even more serious than the exam itself. Zhao Shihua couldn't help but slow down packing her bag, pausing politely as if she were treating a street performer.
Unfortunately, his true colors were revealed the next second: he plucked a few notes and said, "Oh no, that's not right." He played another section and said, "Wrong, wrong." Finally, he wisely put it back and said, "I'll go home and practice some more."
After school, Zhou Xin, who was halfway across the classroom, also rushed over after hearing the noise. Since he had moved to a new seat at the beginning of the month, he had fewer opportunities to interject and make jokes. He was listening with great interest, his chin in his hand. When he saw Shao Yifu put away his guitar, he stood up and asked, "Why is your guitar a little bit frivolous?"
Zhou Xin could actually recognize his playing style. Although it didn't seem like a positive evaluation, Zhao Shihua still sighed deeply for his own level of music appreciation.
"Oh, that's my cat. It got mad at me and peed on it to get back at me."
As expected, Shao Yifu, despite his clumsy playing, was undoubtedly eliminated in the first round of the instrumental competition. However, he became more and more courageous, completely undeterred. He simply got up, dusted himself off, and continued on to his next destination, even encouraging himself with words like, "Artists are often not accepted at first." He immediately switched from classical music to song accompaniment and immersed himself in preparing for the singing competition.
Even his guitar had been upgraded to keep up with the times—the original guitar backpack, stained with Kitty's rage, was replaced the day after he was eliminated from the preliminary round. The red guitar inside the new backpack looked so cool, Zhao Shihua felt that only a bright blond punk hairstyle and studded leather jacket and pants could truly match the guitar's non-mainstream charm.
"Cool, right?" Shao Yifu saw that the guitar attracted the attention of several people around him, and his tail was almost up to the sky with pride. "I won't demonstrate it to you. This needs to be plugged in to use." He seemed to cherish this guitar very much, and the way he held the guitar tightly made him look like he was playing the pipa.
Zhou Xin, standing nearby, reached out to try it out, but Shao Yifu wouldn't even let him touch it. He called him stingy, and after a long pause, he finally said the guitar wasn't his, he'd just borrowed it for a performance. Then, as if trying to save some face, he said his mother had promised to buy him a guitar if he did well on his final exams.
"I've even thought of a name for the guitar! It's called 'Yan', with two 'fire' characters. It goes perfectly with this color!"
"It's just a brain inflammation." Li Xuping added without raising his head.
"Pfft, pfft, pfft! Don't say such unlucky words!" Shao Yifu quickly chased his friend away, then pulled him back the next second. "But Old Li, I still need you to help me with my studies."
When he thought about equating his final grade with his guitar, Shao Yifu suddenly perked up, tidied up his desk, took out a stack of test papers from the drawer, flipped them over and over again, making the papers rustle: "Wow, Zhuo Siqi, this model essay is yours again. How come you are so good at writing essays? Can you teach me too?" His enthusiasm for learning was so high that he wished he had a famous teacher for each subject.
Zhuo Siqi, who was a good writer, of course ignored the low-level contestant who was still struggling with typos. Because the recent study sessions were too noisy, she had already started wearing noise-canceling earplugs while doing her homework.
After finishing his elective classes on Saturday morning, Zhao Shihua returned to the classroom for his usual afternoon study. The academic building was usually quite deserted on Saturday afternoons, with most boarding students out having fun. However, this week, it was as lively as the backstage at the Spring Festival Gala, with many students staying behind to practice. In addition to those who had signed up for various competitions, there were also rehearsals for clubs like the choir and dance club.
When Zhao Shihua pushed open the door with his schoolbag on his back, he felt like a college entrance examination candidate walking into a circus with his review materials, which was out of place, so he decided to take his homework to the library to do it.
The lake green curtain next to the seat covered half of the tabletop. Perhaps it was blown by the wind, and it looked like a big bulge. Zhao Shihua was wondering why no one had pulled up the curtain, so he walked over and ripped it open with force.
"Wow!!!"
"ah!!!"
Both of them were shocked by each other.
"You scared me to death!" Shao Yifu complained, covering his heart.
"You scared me to death!" Zhao Shihua couldn't help but loosen his grip, and the curtain hit Shao Yifu's face again. He sneezed several times in a row, probably because of the dust raised by the curtains that hadn't been washed for a semester.
"What are you doing hiding here?"
"Who said I was hiding?" Shao Yifu said as he straightened the curtains. "I was taking a nap."
Zhao Shihua looked up at the afternoon sunlight slanting through the glass. It must be very pleasant to sleep under the sunlight in winter. This person really knows how to find a comfortable nest for himself, just like a cat.
"Are you coming to rehearsal too?"
"How is that possible?" Zhao Shihua squatted down and pulled out English and physics workbooks from the drawer. He estimated the time and pulled out the politics book. "Yes, I'm here to rehearse for the final exam."
But the other person didn't laugh at all. She turned around and found Shao Yifu still staring at her blankly, with a dazed look on his face, half asleep and half awake. "You stayed to practice guitar? Did you form a band with Li Xuping or Zhou Xin?"
"What?" Shao Yifu rubbed his eyes, "Oh, yes, but, alas..."
The series of modal particles left Zhao Shihua completely confused. She glanced around and found that neither Li Xuping nor Zhou Xin was in the classroom. She thought to herself, could it be that they were having a conflict over the band?
After a long silence, Shao Yifu suddenly sat up straight: "Oh my god, it's already half past two? I have to go find Jian Tingting."
"Your band also invited Jian Tingting?!" The rocket-like rapid progress immediately made her dumbfounded. It turned out that the crux of the conflict was with Jian Tingting. Could it be that the toad was going to transform into the frog prince?
"That's good!" Shao Yifu put on the school uniform he had been wearing and zipped it up to its highest point with a swish. "Starting next semester, Tai Chi will be included in the morning exercises, but the student union said that the physical education committee members of each class should perform on stage as the opening program. Are they so bored? They are really crazy! I had an appointment with Zhou Xin and the others, but now my time is all taken up. If Jian Tingting hadn't invited me, I would..."
While listening to his complaints, Zhao Shihua had already packed his schoolbag, put one side of it on his back, and was about to put the other side on with his left hand. However, he tried to hook it behind his waist for a long time but failed. He turned his head and realized that Shao Yifu had grabbed it.
"Hey, what are you doing?" She raised her hand and chopped it down vertically, but the moment she touched his wrist, she vaguely guessed what the other party's intention was.
"Zhao Shihua, Uncle Zhao, Grandmaster!" Shao Yifu pulled his hand back in pain, his eyes blinking in the sunlight, as if the light of hope was flickering. He then clasped his hands together and bowed his head deeply, as if worshiping Guanyin Bodhisattva. "...Can you go in my place?"
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