White mice (Part 2)
Unsurprisingly, Zhou Zeyu once again suffered from insomnia for most of the night.
She knew that drinking alcohol could help her sleep, but she also knew that some oddballs would become more energetic the more they drank. However, she now realized that she was one of those oddballs.
She tried everything that could help her fall asleep, such as drinking milk, running, doing pull-ups, or even reading a whole book of high school math olympiad problems in a short period of time, but nothing worked.
I still remember that Fang Xiaocan taught her this method. At that time, the two were roommates. Because of the pressure, they couldn't sleep well. They would turn on a small lamp late at night and lie on the bed to do math. The effect was remarkable. When Coach Xu came to wake her up the next morning, she was still drooling and dreaming.
Unfortunately, as time went by, Zhou Zeyu found that he had become completely immune to mathematics.
Fang Xiaocan once suggested that she switch to a different approach, such as buying a philosophy book or physics exercises. She thought that one might become immune to math after studying it for a long time, and she wholeheartedly agreed.
So, as soon as it was light, Zhou Zeyu quickly rode her bicycle out the door. Although she was no longer undergoing high-intensity training, she still maintained her habit of circling the lake three times a day. After finishing, she took a shortcut to the central square and found the bookstore's location somewhat unfamiliarly.
The temperature wasn't high in the morning, but after her morning exercise, she was almost drenched in sweat. She wiped her sweat, pushed open the door, and went inside. A strong gust of cold wind suddenly hit her face, causing her to shiver.
Zhou Zeyu quickly hid in a corner, randomly picked up a book and started flipping through it, but unfortunately she couldn't understand it. She gritted her teeth and tried to recognize each letter, trying her best to draw on her scarce knowledge, but she still couldn't understand it.
Logically speaking, she shouldn't be unable to understand a single sentence. Although she knew her English was poor, she was still one of the top performers in the team, a leader who consistently ranked among the top in academic subjects. This was just too frustrating.
She scratched her head, picked up the book, and sat down in a nearby seat. Refusing to believe it, she pointed to each line and silently read through them. Stubbornly, she managed to read almost half the book without understanding the meaning at all.
Then, an even stronger sense of frustration followed.
Zhou Zeyu put down her book and sighed. In fact, she had been intermittently studying English on her own because the team's cultural education was really not up to par, and she had lofty ambitions to enter the refereeing world in the future. But no matter what, the effect of self-study was too poor.
It's passable for spoken English, since Professor Elberlint, who needs to do a lot of negotiation, has a Chinese certificate, and the simple vocabulary for daily life is easy to pick up. But it doesn't work when it comes to real, pure English reading.
This is practically going to kill her...
She glanced wistfully at Sorkov sitting opposite her. In fact, she had been staring at him resentfully for a long time, but he was engrossed in his laptop, typing furiously at a frantic pace, his face even more indifferent than hers.
"This is terrifying," Zhou Zeyu muttered to himself. Seemingly inspired by his rapid and intense learning, he put the book back in front of him and flipped through it in one go.
"It's too technical; you won't understand it."
Zhou Zeyu looked up, but the other person was still buried in a huge pile of professional books and stacks of papers, not even glancing at her. She even wondered if the other person was talking to her.
So she held up the book and tentatively asked, "Excuse me, but what book is this?" She didn't even understand the title.
“Purely rational criticism.” He replied quickly, without looking up and without any emotion.
No wonder he couldn't understand it. Zhou Zeyu accepted this reality with peace of mind, then looked at Solkov's buzz cut, which was faintly visible amidst the chaos, with a sense of relief. He picked up the book and prepared to pay.
As she passed by him, Sorkov, who was in a frantic state of preparation, finally gave her a glance and asked, "Do you want to buy it?"
She gave him a strange look, and suddenly felt a sense of displeasure at being looked down upon. "Buy it."
God knows how much she wanted to just close her eyes, collapse on the table, and sleep for three days and three nights while she was fighting with a bunch of letters.
She really wanted to ask Solkov what the point was of calling her to the bookstore so early in the morning—was it to force her to study or to force her to watch him study? But either way, it was torture for her.
Sorkov picked up another book from the shelf next to him: "This one will be more suitable for you; the vocabulary and sentences in that one are too difficult to read."
Zhou Zeyu shook his head resolutely, revealing a look of a hero cutting off his own arm, "No, if I'm going to challenge someone, I'll challenge someone with a high level of difficulty."
So Solkov gave her an approving look, and she, feeling guilty under his approving gaze, quickly ran away.
The morning sunlight was lovely, filtering through the gaps in the blinds and scattering across the table, creating irregular golden spots. Zhou Zeyu propped his head up and started counting them listlessly with his finger.
She counted to the twenty-third in a daze, then yawned and glanced at the table and saw that the once full table had suddenly been cleared, leaving only Sorkov leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, looking at her with an unmistakably confused expression.
Zhou Zeyi suddenly jumped up, chuckled dryly a few times, and scratched the back of his head: "So what are we going to do next?"
She even looked at him with a hint of anticipation, but Solkov suddenly paused, looked up at the ceiling, and seemed to be deep in thought. "Let me think about it."
What do you want to do now?
She was taken aback. "I thought you were the one who arranged today's itinerary."
“No, since you’re the main character, you should make the decision,” he said matter-of-factly. “Name your favorite sport besides table tennis.”
"Protagonist?" Zhou Zeyu shook her head. "What a cliché title." She thought for a moment, then looked at the bright sunshine outside. "I like to exercise in cool places all day long."
“Okay,” Sorkov decided immediately, “let’s go swimming.”
"Uh... huh?"
Zhou Zeyu thought for a long time but still couldn't figure out how she had been tricked into coming to the gymnasium. Of course, she had raised her doubts, but they were all brushed aside by Solkov's few words. By the time she realized what had happened, she was already half-submerged in the swimming pool.
The last time she swam was probably five years ago, during a team-building activity with the swimming team. As someone who couldn't swim, she was the first one to be pulled out for basic lessons. She struggled to learn for a long time, and even with several world champions teaching her, she only learned the basics. Not to mention that she hadn't been in the water for several years, so she probably had forgotten everything by now.
So she stayed obediently in the shallow water, watching the children splashing around, and very humbly declined their offer to play in the water with them. Instead, she huddled in a corner, looking rather pathetic, and picked at her fingers.
As Sorkov was putting on his swimming cap on the shore, he tilted his head toward the deep water. Zhou Zeyu quickly waved his hand in refusal and blinked hard, hoping he would understand.
He definitely understood what she meant, but he still blinked as if he didn't understand. "I can teach you."
Zhou Zeyu expressed strong doubts, but thinking that it was inappropriate for her to stay in the corner all the time, and the children splashing around her gave her an invisible pressure, so she could only take a floating board and go with some doubts.
In fact, she regretted it the moment she reached the deep water. She hated the feeling of being suspended in mid-air with nothing to step on, especially since the float in her hand kept moving around uncontrollably. In a panic, she supported most of her body on the board, awkwardly regaining her balance, and looked up at Sorkov with a grimace.
Sorkov was watching her with a smile. She noticed that this guy only smiled so brightly when he was mocking others. The deep smile softened his originally somewhat sharp features, making him look less like his usual expressionless and fierce self, and more like someone with a touch of humanity.
However, Zhou Zeyu thought about it again and realized that his liveliness was based on her panic and helplessness. Her anger started to rise again, and she glared at him angrily with a pout.
He was laughing heartily when she suddenly stared at him so intently, and his smile visibly faded quickly. "Which one do you want to learn?"
"Can you do all of these?"
Sorkov gave a forced smile. "I'm a professional."
Zhou Zeyu couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Sorry, you said you were an athlete yesterday, I really thought you were a cyclist."
Sorkov chuckled a few times with her, then suddenly grabbed the float she was relying on for survival and shook it violently. Zhou Zeyu was caught off guard and slid into the water with a thud, leaving only her two hands clinging tightly to the float, her head half-exposed above the water.
He looked directly into her mournful eyes, showing no remorse for having just ambushed her, and said confidently, "If you're going to learn, of course you can't keep using a float."
Zhou Zeyu silently rolled her eyes. This familiar tone reminded her of Coach Xu. Every time he finished eating the snacks she had painstakingly hidden, he would raise his head slightly and say openly that it was all for her health.
They're practically cut from the same cloth, both scoundrels.
"I learned a little bit of breaststroke, but I've probably forgotten it all," she said.
Solkov took a slight step back, scrutinizing her strange posture of half struggling and half relaxing, and nodded with certainty, "Obviously."
Zhou Zeyu said irritably, "Fine, coach, what should I do next?"
"Loosen the board."
"impossible."
"release."
"impossible."
Both fell into a brief silence. Zhou Zeyu looked resolute, while Solkov's expression remained somewhere between speechless and helpless. Finally, after a moment of silence, Solkov relented, "Alright, now try to float on your own."
"Float? How?"
“Relax.” He pointed mercilessly at her tense fingertips. “You should pry this board open so that all your muscles can relax.”
Zhou Zeyu nodded vigorously, took a deep breath, and began to stiffly and forcefully try to relax herself, but she undoubtedly failed; her entire body remained submerged in the water like a stone.
She looked at Solkov in a panic for help, while he was studying her strained forearm with a puzzled expression. "Do you strain like this even when you're relaxed?"
Zhou Zeyu was on the verge of tears: "I told you I'm not suited for swimming!"
He shook his head, patted her shoulder encouragingly, and went behind her, saying, "I'll lift your legs up. Try to keep your upper body relaxed and see if this helps."
Zhou Zeyu felt her ankle being grabbed, and an excessive force almost lifted her entire lower body up, causing her to lose her balance. Her hand slipped and she let go of the float, falling straight into the water.
Before she could even scream, she swallowed several mouthfuls of pool water. The feeling of suffocation was unbearable. She frantically thrashed her limbs, trying to surface. Sorkov seemed to be trying to pull her up, but after being kicked squarely in the face, he could only let go in pain and fall into the water in a sorry state.
Zhou Zeyu had forgotten what she was struggling for. She only remembered that she had accidentally stumbled to the edge of the pool and managed to climb ashore with brute force. She coughed violently, her lungs filled with the taste of bleach.
The victim she accidentally injured was quickly swimming to the edge of the pool with his back to her, raising his hand as if to cover his face. Feeling a little guilty, she walked over to check on him. Before her fingertips even touched his shoulder, he suddenly turned around, clearly startled and leaning back.
She didn't understand why Solkov was so frightened at first, but after seeing the blood on half of his face from his nose, she finally understood. However, he seemed even more helpless than she was, covering his face and quickly turning his back to her.
Zhou Zeyi was completely stunned. She quickly ran to the side to take out tissues from her bag and handed them over tremblingly, "I'm sorry... are you alright?"
As soon as she finished speaking, she regretted it and wanted to slap herself. There was no need to ask; it was obvious that she was in a bad mood!
Solkov took the tissue, waved it casually, wiped his face a few times, and said he was fine. But Zhou Zeyu was already terrified by his attitude and was begging and pleading to get this stubborn mule to the hospital.
"I'm really fine." He seemed to want to reassure her, but he only managed a half-hearted smile. However, the bloodstains on his face made his words unconvincing. He looked so bloody that he could have been the main character in a horror movie.
But no matter how much he tried to push himself, Zhou Zeyu refused to practice anymore. On the surface, she said she was physically exhausted, but in reality, she was worried that he would be kicked again and bleed on the spot. In short, she firmly believed that this was a good method for both of them.
"I'm really fine!" Sorkov finally insisted, "I just bleed too easily."
I've never seen anyone "bleed too easily" with blood gushing from their nose all over their face. Heaven knows how scared Zhou Zeyu was when he saw the other person's face; his conditioned reflex was that he thought he had kicked a murderer.
Sorkov seemed to want to continue arguing, but she ruthlessly steered the argument away, and the swimming lesson ended in failure.
However, that's only temporary.
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