The Wind Man and the Earth Man (4)
They sat there for who knows how long, until a security guard passed by and, assuming they were students skipping classes and having a premature romance, questioned them. Zhao Shihua's eyes turned red, and the misunderstanding that the couple had quarreled only deepened.
Shao Yifu realized he had made the other person cry and hurriedly searched his pocket for a tissue. Sure enough, there was a piece of paper, which he immediately handed over excitedly. But when he flipped it open, he found a crumpled map showing the route for the winter long-distance running at the neighboring Guangdong University.
"Here, this," he quickly took it back, "...it really can't be used, right?"
Zhao Shihua rolled her eyes at him, wiping away a tear. Seeing the security guard still waiting to see what was happening, she tried to pull out her sign-in form to explain herself, only to realize she'd left it on a chair at the school gate. If she hadn't rushed back immediately, she'd probably have been even more offended, misunderstood, and accused of making up an excuse.
A few scattered figures could be seen not far from the school gate. Judging from the color of their clothes, they should be students of the school. Zhao Shihua lowered his head and blinked hard, hoping to hide the traces of his emotions. He caught a glimpse of Shao Yifu still following him blankly, so he reminded him not to forget to find someone to repair his bicycle.
"Oh! I almost forgot if you hadn't told me." Shao Yifu slapped his thigh, stood up quickly, and turned around two or three times before he remembered where he parked his bicycle. Before leaving, he turned back and asked her, "Is there anything else I can help you with?" His tone was as friendly as a volunteer who made a mistake and went to serve the community.
"Then do me one last favor." Seeing a large group of people about to arrive, Zhao Shihua just wanted to get rid of him quickly so that he could carry out this useless task seriously. So he said whatever came to his mind, "Go to the bookstore across the street and buy me a magazine called 'Mengya'. Say it's the latest issue."
"Front teeth, right? Sure!" Shao Yifu kicked off his footrest, smiled attentively, and asked her through his teeth, "Hey, my friend, so you want to be a dentist in the future?"
When Zhao Shihua heard this name, she felt embarrassed and annoyed. "Right! Treat your ears first!"
For a moment, Zhao Shihua truly felt that Shao Yifu was an old friend she had known for over a decade, and that he was more than just an old classmate. Because they were in front of an old friend, she no longer needed to pretend or lie. After all, both of them had seen their dark sides, and their past history was already well known. There was nothing left to hide, and instead, she felt a sense of ease, having taken off a mask.
After all, at that moment, she was truly deeply moved. The word "friend," once so vague and illusory, now struck home with a tangible force. It was like a boat lost at sea, suddenly illuminated by the beam of a distant lighthouse, guiding her. She only had to keep moving forward to reach home.
Even a lighthouse has its rest period during the day. It wasn't long before Zhao Shihua realized that it was best not to hold onto such movie-like lines—the idea of a good friend was bullshit. She had never known Shao Yifu to be such a frivolous person, assuming that signing a friendship agreement gave him the freedom to talk and chat without restraint.
When their shared past was connected to their present, Shao Yifu sometimes confused the two different modes of getting along. Once, after a physics experiment class, Zhao Shihua saw him rushing towards her from a distance. He was probably in a hurry to submit a lab report. He was holding several sheets of paper in his hand and shouting at her like waving a flag: "Hey, wait for me, Tai--"
Before she could even utter the word "Shan," Zhao Shihua turned around and glared back at her fiercely. Shao Yifu finally reacted, stuttering, "Tai, Tai, Tai," before finally calling her by her given name. Zhou Xin, standing nearby, overheard the conversation, and his long-sitting gossip radar suddenly clicked into action: "What's the follow-up? You actually called her Madam?"
"You're such a fool!" They both retorted in unison, only to arouse each other's suspicion. Zhou Xin stroked his chin, as if stroking a nonexistent beard.
"I mean she walked too, too, too fast, I couldn't catch up with her!" Shao Yifu rolled up the report and knocked it on Zhou Xin's head, then smoothed the paper with great effort and handed it to Zhao Shihua.
For example, there were times when Shao Yifu deliberately called her "old friends" in Cantonese or "old classmate" in an out-of-tune Hakka dialect. Zhao Shihua would be irritated by one or two such jokes and would suddenly turn around. Her first reaction was always to shrink back into a ball, shielding herself with her hands, and then suddenly return to speaking standard Mandarin as if being beaten back to her original form, and yell in a fuss, "Don't hit me!" His expression was almost the same as that of the timid Guan Yifu in his childhood, which made her laugh and cry.
It was like a puppy whose leash was once pinned to a nail, only to grow up and not realize that its strength had long since grown to the point of breaking free from that nail. Unlike the short, fat kid from elementary school, Shao Yifu was now more than half a head taller than her. In a true contest of strength, she had little chance of winning. So, she simply frowned, muttered a curse, and no longer dared to raise her fist, which she once used to intimidate others.
What made Zhao Shihua regret that she was too gullible was that Shao Yifu's so-called inspirational story of turning his life around might not be a secret at all, and even the authenticity of the story was questionable.
One day, for some reason, the subject came up again. Li Xuping was sitting nearby, leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling while spinning a pen. Someone who didn't know him might have thought he was pondering some life dilemma, but in reality, he had finished his homework and was just waiting for self-study to end.
When he heard Shao Yifu return the notebook to Zhao Shihua and then clasp his hands in thanks, "Thank you, Master, for teaching me martial arts," Li Xuping suddenly jumped back, as if he had just heard some earth-shattering news. However, his movement was so abrupt that he pushed the table directly into Zhuo Siqi's back, earning her a stern glare. Li Xuping apologized profusely, then lowered his voice, "Another Kung Fu Panda story? Zhao Shihua, don't believe him."
"What do you mean?" Zhao Shihua felt something was wrong the moment he heard it. He quickly turned from the left side of his seat to the right side like a compass, holding onto the edge of his desk with both hands and demanded, "You know that too?"
"That was the theme of his junior high speech. He used it several times in Chinese and English classes." Li Xuping pushed his glasses up, looking unfathomable. "Did he tell you—"
The second half of Li Xuping's words was forcibly muffled by Shao Yifu, who then continued, "Tsk tsk tsk, Old Li, you have a good memory!"
"Of course. According to the data I've collected over the past three years, there are a total of..." Li Xuping's voice came out muffled through his palm. Then, perhaps because he was holding it in, he forcefully pried Shao Yifu's fingers apart and quickly finished explaining the rest of the story. "Zhao Shihua, Shao Yifu didn't become invincible through martial arts. He became acquainted with those foreigners after playing football with them."
"Oh, it seems you know me better than I know myself?" Shao Yifu pretended to clamp Li Xuping's neck with his elbow again.
"Didn't we meet through playing football?"
"That's not called playing football, that's called guarding the goal with your hands!"
"That's because you always think I'll pass the ball wrong because I'm shortsighted."
"Then you have indeed made mistakes a few times!"
"You understand mistakes, right? But you wouldn't write an essay about losing a game. The title should be 'An Unforgettable Event'!"
Zhao Shihua watched as the two men started bickering again, completely oblivious to her as an audience member. She could only swallow her bitterness and force a smile to save some dignity. She'd thought they'd revealed their secret to her alone, and she'd been incredibly touched, but in the end, it was all just her naiveté. She wasn't a child anymore; she'd actually believed in those daily TV commercials where she'd be one of the lucky ten viewers who could win a free phone just by calling the number.
However, no matter how Shao Yifu explained his story, he seemed to have recently been frequently alluding to topics like "martial arts" and "kung fu." Through his deliberate and unintentional promotion, his classmates seemed to have gradually internalized Zhao Shihua's new characterization. No matter how much she hated to admit it, the truth stood out like a pillar on the plain. She just didn't know whether this would become another pillar of shame or a new monument of merit.
Like a seed, though reluctant, it was blown from its original land to a new place by the wind. She had said last time that oranges grown south of the Huai River are oranges, while those grown north of the Huai River are tangerines. I hope that this time, I, like the orange, have truly arrived south of the Huai River.
Zhao Shihua, with this small hope in mind, observed the reactions of her surroundings. At first, she forced a smile, but gradually, she realized that her classmates didn't take it too seriously, to the point of not caring at all. However, this indifference wasn't like ignoring the air; it was a kind of indifference.
After all, in a provincial key high school like Yangzhong, there are so many talented people who wish they could master all kinds of skills. However, when being special becomes common, it no longer seems special. In fact, it is just that everyone is different.
Therefore, for the past two weeks, she hasn't been ridiculed as a tomboy, nor has she been excluded from the girls' circle. Everyone around her treats her as usual. Xu Jiamei even compares her to the "hidden Mulan," except that her story doesn't include the secret help of Mushu, the dragon sent by the ancestors, nor the appearance of the male protagonist Li Xiang.
But this was the best possible ending. Even if he couldn't return home in glory like General Hua, Zhao Shihua could still imagine himself retiring to the city like a great hero, hiding his identity and opening a branch of the Tongfu Inn, living a busy and ordinary life as a shopkeeper. Those who couldn't make it into the main story might as well stay in the side story and have their own unique moments.
It seems pretty good, so let’s leave it that way.
Therefore, compared with most of his classmates who were eager to try and prove themselves different during adolescence, Zhao Shihua was like a hermit, willingly hiding under the protective color of ordinariness and commonness.
Just as she made this resolution, the students around her seemed to be deliberately going against her will, each sharpening their weapons and eagerly preparing to go to Mount Huashan for the sword-fighting competition. Because now, with the winter long-distance running coming to an end, the December art festival officially opened.
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