The Victim and the Confessor (1)
Zhao Shihua pushed open the door of the Grade 7 (3) class and saw several girls gathered around Fu Rong. When they realized it was her, they exchanged glances and fell silent. When she pulled out a chair and sat down to listen, they seemed to have changed the subject. They seemed to be chatting about a popular online drama. They didn't know which part of the story was about when they suddenly exclaimed in unison, "So sweet~ah~", their voices as greasy as if they had swallowed a mouthful of lard.
She knew they were talking about her; even through the door, the words "Muscle Hua" and the accompanying laughter still rang out faintly. These girls, though average in their studies, were quite gifted at giving others nicknames. For example, the pork seller was called "Pork Rong," the bald man became "Guangtou Qiang," and her personality combined with her name gave her the nickname "Muscle Hua."
The problem was that she didn't have any muscular body at all - Zhao Shihua was so embarrassed that she just wanted to take off her flesh-pink down jacket immediately. It was because of the flesh-colored squares on the jacket that made her look like a burly man with his upper body naked and eight abdominal muscles exposed from a distance.
However, she could only think bitterly. It had been raining in Meizhou for the past few days, and I heard it had even snowed in some places in the mountains. The chill penetrated her bones, and not even her down jacket could keep her out. Besides, she had just bought this coat for Spring Festival, and her mother would never agree to buy her another one. She reluctantly shrunk her neck and hid her ears in the thick collar, hoping to block out the chill and the harsh noise.
The second semester of junior high school had just started, but I seemed to have been kicked out of my friend group all of a sudden.
Speaking of which, we still have to go back to the issue of "martial arts".
As a child, Zhao Shihua was fostered in the countryside with her grandmother until she was old enough to start school. When she first started school, she was so naughty and restless in class that her teacher diagnosed her with ADHD. The psychologist's job was to replace her, and the only remedy she prescribed was: "Take an interest class after class to burn off some energy."
At the time, martial arts and fairy tale dramas dominated television. No matter which channel you turned to, you could find heroes wielding swords and spears, roaming the martial arts world. These heroes were so popular that even the ordinary residential area where she lived took on a fairy-like aura, with martial arts training institutions popping up to follow suit. Perhaps this wasn't the reason, but that was how young Zhao Shihua felt.
Every day after school, she would linger in front of the store, imagining that once she walked in, she would be able to master martial arts like the Bruce Lee or Wong Fei-hung characters in the posters. These unrealistic fantasies only lingered in a child's mind for a short while, eventually dispelling them as she realized Santa Claus couldn't exist in the real world, or discovered that the protagonists on TV were actually secretly hanging on tightrope and climbing walls.
However, Zhao's father happened to pass by the shop one day and chatted with the owner and coach inside. He was immediately captivated by the idea that "girls practicing martial arts not only strengthens and protects themselves, but also can get extra points on the middle school entrance exam and the college entrance exam." Zhao's father, the kind of person who thinks things through, decided on the spot to go home, get the money, and sign up.
Mother Zhao, the head of the family, was a thrifty person; otherwise, their fast food restaurant wouldn't make a profit even if it were open 24 hours a day. While she could handle Father Zhao's whims, she couldn't resist her youngest daughter's persistent nagging. Add to that the martial arts coach's sweet offer of a 30% discount on a full year's tuition, and the Zhao family's last remaining defense against financial loss was breached.
Zhao Shihua still remembers the day her father took her to register. She was so excited that she had no energy left to flex, so she just somersaulted on the lawn below the building, like a little monkey from Flower-Fruit Mountain. And this little monkey was about to come to her father's house to learn a trick.
Although the martial arts organization wasn't particularly formal, and the boxing techniques they taught were essentially the same as those taught by radio gymnastics, they were simply accompanied by the energetic "Heng Heng Ha Hei" chants to make them look more realistic, Zhao Shihua didn't care. At least she had a master, unlike some who pretended to be heroes at home, draped in a sheet and carrying a broom.
With her impressive kung fu skills, Zhao Shihua rose from a country bumpkin to become the class beauty's bodyguard and the princess's knight, making her very popular among the girls. Not only was she a frequent visitor to the bathroom with Wang Zitong, she also often played male roles such as kings and emperors in playhouse games.
Besides, the girls also took great pleasure in fighting with the boys on the other side, relying on their "martial arts" protection. After all, Zhao Shihua had scared away half of the boys who were not at an advantage in height and strength by just clenching his fists and pretending to fight.
Unfortunately, when she was promoted from primary school to junior high school, Zhao Shihua only went to an ordinary local junior high school because of her average grades, and parted ways with most of her classmates, including her best friend Wang Zitong at the time.
In her new environment, she continued to interact with the girls in her old ways, maintaining her carefree and straightforward personality. However, for some reason, she was no longer welcomed by the new group of girls. They began to mock her for her boyishness and thought she was rude and rough. Even her nickname changed from cute names like "Peter Pan" to the unfeminine "Luohan" and "Bronze Man," or "Bronze Gong" for short. Eventually, her very human qualities were stripped away, and she was reduced to "King Kong."
During the first week back at school after winter break, the atmosphere took a sharp turn for the worse. Not only did a group of girls, led by Fu Rong, start speaking to her in a sarcastic tone, but the other girls also seemed to avoid getting too close to her in public, seemingly to avoid offending her.
Zhao Shihua felt baffled, and no matter how much she asked, she got no answer. She was even told, "You know it well!" It couldn't be that it was related to the fact that she ran into Fu Rong on the street with an unfamiliar boy during the Chinese New Year, and when she went over to say hello, she said, "Wow! You're wearing makeup!"
She had originally thought she could be completely indifferent to others, after all, armed with martial arts, truly fearless. In the end, she discovered that while her fists and feet could withstand physical attacks, they were powerless against verbal attacks. As the saying goes, "It's easy to dodge an open attack, but difficult to guard against an arrow from the dark." Her ancestors had warned her long ago. It was ridiculous. She was theoretically the best fighter, but she couldn't even beat them.
To make an analogy, martial arts are like the sails on a ship.
In elementary school, the hoisted sails were her greatest aid, allowing her to sail smoothly. But in junior high, the wind shifted, and the sails became a huge obstacle. But Zhao Shihua had no choice but to let go, forcing herself forward against the wind. She furled the sails, like a snail retreating into its fragile shell in the face of danger, silently waiting for the storm to pass.
But she still can't figure out when the wind began to change direction.
Perhaps it was when young girls began to care about their image. Junior high school girls were no longer as impulsive as elementary school, each transforming from a little swallow into a gentle crape myrtle. While she was still casually throwing on a loose T-shirt and shorts and heading out, the girls around her were already agonizing over which dress to wear and which shoes to pair with it.
Or perhaps it was because she and her good friend Wang Zitong were admitted to different junior high schools. Without her protection, Wang Zitong was still loved by everyone and flowers bloomed wherever he went; but without Wang Zitong's favor, she was like a concubine who had fallen from favor, banished to the cold palace, looked down upon by even the palace maids.
Perhaps even earlier, so early that she firmly believed martial arts were the foundation of her livelihood, that the "Shaolin Girl" moniker would bring her unparalleled power. When others praised her for her fighting prowess, she'd just follow their lead and throw a few punches. But then, having too much fun, she occasionally overstepped her bounds, transforming from a hero who helped the weak into a bully. There were even rumors that a powerful woman disliked her and threatened to teach her a lesson. God knows, despite boasting about her martial arts prowess, she'd never actually fought.
Zhao Shihua, a martial artist, was instantly seen as an outsider by the girls in her class. Even if she was willing to give up her martial arts skills and blend in, it seemed too late. As a child, she had truly believed she could summon the wind and rain, but she never knew that wind and rain were truly hers.
Unable to change the direction of the wind, Zhao Shihua curled up into a small ball, swept away by the storm, counting the days as they passed. She thought everything would calm down after entering high school, but she never expected that the calm was actually the center of the storm - there, Zhao Shihua met Guan Yifu from the past.
Zhao Shihua looked up blankly and saw Shao Yifu chatting with Li Xuping in the last row of the classroom. They must have talked about something interesting, and Shao Yifu clapped his hands twice in delight. He was really good at showing support. After the seat swap, the two of them were now sitting at the same table. Shao Yifu no longer had to run to the other end of the classroom to meet Li Xuping.
"Shihua, have you finished counting? I have 97. You got it right the first time." Zhu Miaoyan shook the papers evenly, but noticed that Zhao Shihua beside her had stopped moving, as if in a daze. "What are you looking at?"
Zhu Miaoyan leaned over after she finished speaking, frightening her so much that she covered the half-counted table with her hands. The two of them stared at each other for a long time. Finally, Zhao Shihua reluctantly made an excuse: "Sorry, my hands are a little sweaty, and I can't count correctly no matter how hard I try..."
"It's okay. I just counted them. 97 plus 111 equals 208." Zhu Miaoyan was afraid that Zhao Shihua would make things worse again, so she quickly picked up the two stacks of forms and ran away. "Then I'll go hand them in."
Zhao Shihua returned to her seat as if she were walking on cotton, still struggling to come to terms with the reality before her. This should have been a scene of fellow villagers meeting, tears welling up in their eyes, but she wasn't moved to tears, nor was she excited enough to dance with joy.
Next to her, Zhuo Siqi was studying New Concept English, and the two boys behind her were still laughing non-stop. Everything was the same as it had been just a few minutes ago. But she seemed like a completely different person, feeling uncomfortable all over.
She had promised to transform herself and embrace a beautiful new life, but after just ten days of military training, she was reduced to her original form and had to return to the mountains to train for decades. Although there was no sign that Shao Yifu, the thick-skinned guy, had seen through her past, as a poor actor, she really couldn't continue to pretend to be ignorant.
Zhao Shihua leaned back slightly and overheard the two men behind him discussing military deployments. A moment later, they were discussing trade taxation. What the hell was going on? How did they instantly switch from military to economics? Were they planning to research scientific pig farming techniques?
She turned around involuntarily, opening her mouth but unsure what to say. She couldn't just blurt out, "Do you remember me?" or "I've wronged you before." This was the beginning of a romance novel, clearly at odds with the aura of the two men before her, each with their hearts set on the world.
"What's wrong?" Shao Yifu was puzzled when he saw her staring blankly but not saying anything. He turned to ask Li Xuping, who also shrugged, not understanding what was going on.
"you--"
"I……"
The two sides were deadlocked for a second or two. Zhao Shihua felt that he had to say something, otherwise it would seem too strange. Unfortunately, he chose the wrong time to speak, so he gave the microphone to the other party: "Then you should speak first..."
However, the next moment, Shao Yifu suddenly leaned over and stared at her with his eyes straight, like a policeman confirming the identity of a suspect, or like Sun Wukong with his flaming eyes ready to see through the goblin's disguise. Zhao Shihua was so scared that her heart suddenly rose to her throat, and her body leaned back involuntarily, and a rapid alarm seemed to ring in her ears.
"Well, what I want to ask is, are you—" he lowered his voice seriously, as if he were going to exchange some confidential information, "also fighting Total War?"
Zhao Shihua didn't dare to breathe. After being asked this question, it took him a long time to come back to his senses. Countless questions popped up in his mind: "What? What is the full station?"
"Total War!" Shao Yifu realized that Zhao Shihua was not a gaming ally, so he leaned back in his chair and said with a bored look on his face, "I thought you were playing it too. So what do you want to say?"
If the information on the form was the key to the secret door, then the pout he'd just made was the click of the lock. Suddenly, Zhao Shihua's dusty memories all came rushing back. Everything clicked. That was the same expression Guan Yifu had in elementary school, when he'd been wronged but suppressed tears. How could I have observed him for so long, yet I hadn't noticed? He'd even been trying to find out indirectly, his self-directed detective story was riddled with flaws.
"Hey, are you okay? Why are you stunned again?" Seeing that she was silent for a long time, Shao Yifu waved at her exaggeratedly.
"I, I forgot what I was going to say..." Zhao Shihua laughed dryly and turned away, leaving the two boys bewildered. She not only regretted her earlier carelessness in not recognizing the lingering traces of her childhood in Shao Yifu, but now she was even more annoyed at her impulsiveness. It seemed she would have to prepare her speeches in advance.
To mask her panic, Zhao Shihua feigned a busy demeanor. Coincidentally, the bell for the second period of evening study rang. However, there was nothing on the desk except a pen. She quickly dug out her schoolbag, only to find a freshman handbook and a few club recruitment flyers.
She'd already read the brochure from beginning to end two or three times and really didn't want to read it again. The club flyers were meticulously crafted, featuring a literary club, a radio station, a debate club, a choir, a hip-hop club, an anime club, and so on. She hadn't decided which one she'd join yet and planned to ask Zhu Miaoyan about it later. But by the time she'd finished reading it, word for word, and weighed it over, only a quarter of an hour had passed. She couldn't possibly spend the next forty-five minutes staring at the clock.
Some of the students around me were reading, but most were chatting quietly. In the back row, Shao Yifu and Li Xuping had returned to their previous topic, seemingly discussing the game's foreign policy. They'd even brought up the term "marriage alliance," which immediately attracted Zhou Xin from the next group. Military training would end tomorrow afternoon, so the homeroom teacher wasn't here to enforce discipline.
However, Zhuo Siqi beside him was concentrating on copying English words, as if separated by a glass cover. Zhao Shihua didn't want to disturb her, but since he had nothing else to do, he leaned over and asked softly, "Siqi... Um, excuse me, do you have any other books you can lend me?"
Zhao Shihua was actually a little nervous when she asked the question. The reason was that the three of them had been rejected by Zhuo Siqi several times in the past few days, and it was almost a psychological trauma that made them afraid to talk to her anymore. For example, when they went to eat together or to a meeting together, she would often refuse because of time, which was understandable because Zhuo Siqi didn't participate in the class's group training. The other half of the time, the four of them finally sat down to eat together, and just as they were chatting about something interesting, Zhuo Siqi would finish her meal and go back without waiting for them.
Of course, Zhuo Siqi looked quite busy. She walked with such swiftness that most people couldn't keep up. Even during breaks, she kept a book in hand, as if she had the college entrance exam tomorrow. Although Zhuo Siqi didn't seem to be targeting Zhao Shihua personally—she was actually indifferent to everyone—Zhao Shihua still felt a little disheartened. After all, she was so eager to make new friends in her new school, so why did she end up with such an unkind new deskmate?
If only she could still sit with Zhu Miaoyan, arm in arm, chatting every day, experiencing the sweet, strawberry shortcake-like lives of the girls in the comics. In just eight or nine days, Zhu Miaoyan already had a throng of friends surrounding her, a safe haven offering protection that she envied. Although she often joined in the fun, she still felt a sense of crisis. She knew she would have to fight hard to maintain her place in Zhu Miaoyan's small group—it sounded like a harem drama.
But to avoid straining relations with her deskmate, Zhao Shihua decided to put herself in a good place. Furthermore, her teachers had taught her since she was little: to follow the example of diligent classmates and make friends with them. As the saying goes, "A red plum becomes redder, a black plum becomes blacker."
"What do you want to see? Mathematics or physics?" Zhuo Siqi stopped writing and looked at her.
"Huh? Aren't textbooks distributed tomorrow?"
"I borrowed it from a senior who graduated."
There's always someone working harder than you; that's absolutely true. Zhao Shihua doesn't consider herself lazy. While others were out and about playing, she stayed home during her third year of junior high school, studying English. Of course, the real reason was her family's lack of money and her parents' unavailing time. Her so-called self-study was simply an attempt to understand the original Harry Potter books.
"Then I'll borrow a math book."
"I only have one that's a little taller, is that okay?"
"...Then I'll just borrow physics."
Zhao Shihua was stunned for a moment, almost wanting to ask Zhuo Siqi if he had an English name. If not, she strongly recommended Hermione, saying he could definitely compete with the wizarding elite. It seemed that with Zhuo Siqi by her side, every day was a countdown to the Gaokao, a constant struggle for the exam.
But she will soon understand why Zhuo Siqi works so hard.
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