Chapter 82: The Failed Judgment

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Even after dinner, Hu Gantang’s mind was still unsettled, haunted by the fleeting glimpse he’d caught earlier. That quick turn of his head had revealed what seemed to be the back of the prettiest girl in the girls’ class, Ning Xi, whom the idle gossips had long crowned as the school’s beauty, walking out of the school gates alone. But when he turned back again for a better look, there was no one in sight.

This winter break, quite a few girls had stayed behind, Ning Xi among them. Yet it was almost evening now—why would she be going out at this hour? Everyone knew Ning Xi’s story by heart, Hu Gantang included: she was from Beijing, with no relatives in Yun Jia.

He puzzled over it for a while but, being the type who could let things go easily, he soon stopped thinking about it.

After dinner, the group returned to their dormitory. They were already tired from training during the day, so instead of heading to practice, they agreed to relax at the recreation center: some read, some watched movies, some headed to the internet café. By around nine o’clock, one by one, they began to return.

Not yet at the dormitory door, they noticed the lights inside were out, prompting a puzzled remark: “Has A-Long not come back yet?”

Li Jie shook his head. “No, I think he’s already asleep. If he doesn’t go out to train, he always turns in early. Let’s be quiet and not wake him.”

They tiptoed in, switched on the light outside the bedroom, and poured into the bathroom to wash up as quietly as possible.

Zhang Yi finished first and entered the bedroom. Immediately, the others heard his exclamation: “Damn, A-Long isn’t back!”

“Really?” The group rushed in, only to find Long Bisheng’s bed empty, the bedding neatly folded just as it had been in the morning—nothing had been touched since they’d left. Long Bisheng hadn’t returned at all!

“Maybe he went out to train?” Wu Bufan asked.

“No way, the balls are still here,” Liu Lin replied. Eight soccer balls sat in a tidy row in the cupboard, not one missing.

They debated for a while, arriving at no conclusion. Those who were done washing returned to reading or watching TV, the rest finished up and went about their business.

Ten o’clock passed, and Long Bisheng still hadn’t returned.

“Damn, something’s up with this guy,” said Zhou Wei, switching off the TV. “It’s so late and he’s not back, and he didn’t go to train either. Maybe he really is seeing someone? But Da Guangming didn’t sneak out to meet the pretty girl from the bookstore tonight, did he?”

Dai Guangming closed his book and tossed it at Zhou Wei, who dodged nimbly and laughed. “Look at my reflexes! Try again next life… ouch!”

Wu Bufan had ambushed him from behind with a wad of paper.

“If A-Long’s really seeing someone, who could it be? Don’t tell me it’s Ning Xi—they do sit together,” Zhang Yi joked.

“No way. Ning Xi’s always seemed a bit aloof, and A-Long isn’t exactly smooth. How could that be?” Li Jie countered.

“You never know—maybe she likes the strong, silent type. Wasn’t that how Guo Jing and Huang Rong ended up together?” Liu Lin added with a sly grin.

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“Come on, is there a Guo Jing as big as Long Bisheng?” Zhou Wei said.

“You sure know a lot of idioms,” Hu Gantang shot him a glance. “A bunch of grown men gossiping like old ladies… What’s the point? Go to sleep, we’ve got morning runs tomorrow.”

With a snap, Hu Gantang turned off the light, and in the darkness came Zhou Wei’s protest: “Hey, Hu Gantang, I’m not in bed yet—I can’t see a thing in the dark…”

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It was nearly eleven when Long Bisheng finally returned, quietly opening the door and closing it gently behind him. He glanced around the bedroom, saw everyone lying in bed, and slipped into the bathroom.

No sooner had he closed the door than the seven who had seemed fast asleep all sat up and exchanged glances, stifling laughter.

“You’re all still awake?” Zhou Wei whispered.

Zhang Yi chuckled quietly. “I couldn’t sleep… I was curious to see when A-Long would come back.”

“Me too.” “Me too,” Wu Bufan and Li Jie said at once.

“Hu Gantang, didn’t you say we were being gossipy? Why aren’t you asleep?” Liu Lin teased.

“Who says I’m not? You all woke me up!” Hu Gantang retorted.

“Shameless! Shameless! Shameless!” Dai Guangming pronounced emphatically.

Zhang Yi slid out of bed and crept to the bedroom door, listening intently to the sounds from the bathroom. After a moment, he turned back and whispered, “He’s humming a song!”

“What song?” The others perked up.

“‘I Believe’,” Zhang Yi replied.

“Damn.” “What the—” “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Almost everyone burst out with expletives, except for Wu Bufan, who asked blankly, “What song is that? Why are you all cursing?”

The others fell silent. After a moment, Dai Guangming explained, “It’s the theme song from the Korean movie ‘My Sassy Girl’… And Yun Jia cinema has been replaying it these days. Oh right, today’s Valentine’s Day!”

With this, the realization dawned—this year the Spring Festival was late, and though it wasn’t Lunar New Year yet, today was indeed February 14th, Western Valentine’s Day.

Dai Guangming and the others, young as they were and living in the relatively closed world of the football school, rarely kept track of dates beyond traditional holidays and weekends. Training filled every day, and with no Valentine’s Day hype on campus, they’d simply forgotten.

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“An affair, an affair,” Zhou Wei muttered. “This guy never sings pop songs—besides army tunes and old folk songs, I’ve never heard him hum anything else… Wait, he did sing a Zhao Chuan song once, but that’s an oldie too. He must’ve gone to see that movie tonight. Look at us, each of us smarter and trendier than him, yet he’s the one out watching a movie for Valentine’s Day—my God, the world’s gone mad!”

“Damn it, up! We have to get to the bottom of this tonight,” Li Jie threw off his blanket, hastily pulled on his clothes, and jumped out of bed. “This guy is seriously lacking in brotherhood, not even telling us it’s Valentine’s Day. He could’ve at least let us know so we could go out and have some fun!”

“Yeah, yeah, what a traitor,” everyone chimed in, and soon the room was filled with the sounds of people getting dressed. Long Bisheng, toothbrush in mouth, poked his head out of the bathroom in surprise, only to be grabbed by Wu Bufan and dragged into the bedroom.

Long Bisheng took the toothbrush out, mouth full of foam. “You’re all still up? What’s going on?”

“This is all your fault!” Zhou Wei accused angrily. “Come on, spill it! Where did you go tonight?”

“We know everything,” Zhang Yi threatened. “Now it’s just a matter of whether you’ll come clean. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say can be used as evidence in court.”

“Leniency for confession, severity for resistance!” Li Jie added menacingly. “If you’re not honest, you’ll see just how tough the people’s dictatorship can be!”

Long Bisheng looked at his indignant roommates, Adam’s apple bobbing. Suddenly, he broke free from Wu Bufan and dashed out of the room.

“Is he running away? Did he really do something shameful?” The group exchanged bewildered looks.

From the bathroom came the sound of rinsing. After a moment, Long Bisheng returned, towel in hand, wiping his mouth as he grumbled, “What’s the problem? I just went out to watch a movie—there’s no law against that, is there?”

He’d admitted it so easily that everyone stared in disbelief. They’d expected denials, excuses, maybe even anger or silence—every possibility except this candid confession.

“Could it be there was no secret date?” Dai Guangming and Liu Lin wondered, while Zhou Wei, unwilling to give up, pressed on, “Did you go alone? You never go to the movies—you know the school has a video room, right?”

“I didn’t go alone,” Long Bisheng replied, head down. “I went with Brother Li Fang. After dinner at his place, he said he was bored and took me out for a walk. We passed the cinema, he said the movie was great, so we went in.”

Everyone was speechless.

Long Bisheng looked up, suddenly animated. “But the movie really was good! The heroine’s so beautiful—such long hair, such a figure…”

“Shut up!” they all yelled in unison, and Hu Gantang waved his hand dismissively. “It’s late. Bedtime!”

“Hey, I’m not finished yet…” But the lights in Dorm 101 had gone out. In the darkness, Long Bisheng’s voice could still be heard.