Two days later, Song Fei saw Qi Yan again, in a 2-credit elective course called "Classic Film Appreciation." This course was incredibly competitive, like train tickets during the Spring Festival travel rush; spots were snapped up in seconds. Song Fei and his entire dorm frantically clicked their mice at the same time, but only Song Fei managed to get a spot. After the first class, Song Fei knew he'd made the right choice. The teacher was kind and approachable, taking attendance as soon as the bell rang, then turning off the lights and showing a movie. Whether you were focused or taking a nap, he didn't care. And frankly, the darkened classroom was a paradise for sleeping; several times, Song Fei, even when not sleepy, found himself dozing off.
They were still together when they chose courses at the end of last semester, so they chose many courses together. As a result, after breaking up this semester, they often see each other. It's a bittersweet romance.
As always, Qi Yan sat in the first row, while Song Fei sat in the last row. The reason for this distance had absolutely nothing to do with their past relationship—it was purely a choice made from the bottom of their hearts. Although they only started attending classes together after their breakup, and it was only an elective, Song Fei was certain that Qi Yan would do the same in required courses. Wang Qingyuan was the same. Perhaps in the minds of top students, the closer they were to the blackboard, the easier it was to be struck by the knowledge. He, a perennial underachiever who barely passed all subjects, couldn't understand the lofty ambitions of those who were automatically scholarship recipients. So, thankfully they broke up this semester; otherwise, who knows how many times they would have argued about sitting in the front or back rows now that they were finally attending classes together. Last semester alone, they had countless unpleasant arguments over whether or not to go to the library to study.
Can't you date someone if your values don't align?
Incompatible learning philosophies are the real killer!!!
Unfortunately, the issue of using electrical appliances without permission didn't cause much of a stir at school and was likely to be dropped. So, Professor Jia, finally relieved, pulled their dorm out during the routine weekend roll call and publicly humiliated them in front of the entire second-year history department. The embarrassment of being humiliated to the neighboring class hadn't even subsided when today, this usually kind and gentle elective professor, for some unknown reason, showed a horror movie. No, "horror movie" was Song Fei's slang; the professor used the term "cult film," and, contrary to his usual gentlemanly silence before showing a film, he launched into a long, rambling explanation of his viewing experiences with similar films over the past decade, concluding that all cult films on the market today should be considered the progenitor of this one. Looking at the professor's gleaming eyes, Song Fei strongly suspected that the previous classes had been clearly written into the lesson plan, while today's class might be a hidden surprise.
The post-credits scene was incredibly intense. The director, with a vengeful spirit, had blood splattering everywhere and limbs flying. And true to his masterful directing, he not only physically tortured you but also mentally. In the end, Song Fei couldn't take it anymore and decisively left early. As he slipped out the back door, he noticed a few female classmates giving him disdainful looks. Song Fei admired these girls; they were all real tough guys. Many of his buddies also liked this kind of film, but he just couldn't handle it. It's like someone who dares to catch a mouse with their bare hands but is afraid to step on an insect—there are all sorts of people in the world, and everyone has their Achilles' heel.
Anyway, roll call had already been taken. As Song Fei hummed a little tune on her way to the cafeteria, she was thinking happily that she didn't have to queue for food at this time, how great!
Just as he sat down and took a bite of the chef's newly developed orange stewed chicken—trying new dishes in the cafeteria was one of the few sources of joy in Song Fei's monotonous campus life, and what was even more commendable was that the unfamiliar master of new-style fusion cuisine had a very high success rate, with at least six out of ten new dishes tasting pretty good—he received a WeChat message from Qi Yan.
The teacher called roll again.
The chicken, which was originally sweet and sour, suddenly turned bitter.
Song Fei checked the time; it should be right after class. He assumed the other person was still up to no good and persistently trying to annoy him, so he promptly replied—[Come on, they took attendance as soon as class started, and now they're doing it again after class? Are they crazy?]
The other party's reply was concise and to the point—"Hmm."
Song Fei was a little unsure of himself. After asking around, he finally managed to contact a classmate from the Physics Department through Xiang Yang. The classmate's answer was comprehensive and detailed: "[Yes, not only was attendance taken, but they also said that anyone who didn't come today doesn't need to take the exam; they definitely won't pass.]"
Song Fei didn't know whether Qi Yan was trying to disgust him.
But this elective course professor is absolutely a die-hard fan of this film! What does love mean? If you can't appreciate the good looks of my beloved, I'll make sure you fail the course all night long!!!
Two points gone.
Two months of classes were wasted.
Song Fei lost her appetite again, but as usual she got food for Wang Qingyuan and carried it back to the dormitory dejectedly.
Upon entering, Wang, who had just finished practicing for the CET-6 exam and was waiting for a treat, not only failed to express gratitude but also added insult to injury: "The CET-4 and CET-6 exams are in a month and a half, have you even studied them?"
Song Fei and his classmates could take the CET-4 exam in the second semester of their freshman year. Wang Qingyuan passed with a high score and directly took the CET-6 exam this semester. Song Fei perfectly avoided the passing score, or rather, maintained a very large safe distance. So this semester, he will continue.
Wang Qingyuan could tell from his expression that he hadn't studied at all, and sighed in exasperation: "If you really aren't going to pass, you might as well not sign up and just waste your money."
Song Fei also felt bad about spending the money, but said, "If everyone else reports it and I don't, I'll seem like a loner."
Wang Qingyuan glanced at him: "Your score is even more out of place."
Song Fei handed him the lunch she had brought back with both hands: "Brother, eat it while it's hot."
Wang Qingyuan stopped wasting words. When it comes to studying, if you don't want to, no amount of talking will help.
After playing on her phone in bed for a while, Song Fei got sleepy and dozed off. When she woke up, Xiang Yang had returned sometime earlier and was sitting on the bed playing on his phone.
Song Fei only needed to glance at him to know that he was still arguing with his girlfriend—his expression and domineering attitude, as if he wanted to smash the screen, were exactly the same as his own last night.
Xiangyang's girlfriend was someone he somehow met at a foreign language university four subway stops away. The girl was a freshman, and Xiangyang was a sophomore, both at a busy stage of their studies. Coupled with the long-distance relationship, they could only meet on weekends, racing against time to see each other. They had only been dating for two months, their relationship was incredibly sweet, but starting last week, they fell into a semi-cold war.
"Still haven't you coaxed her?" Song Fei decided to check on her roommate.
Xiang Yang just pressed send, tossed his phone aside, and looked at Song Fei with a "you don't understand" expression: "Getting a girl is harder than climbing a mountain, and coaxing her is harder than ascending to heaven!"
"Silly," Song Fei advised, "what's the use of just sweet talk? You need to be practical, give me a gift."
Xiang Yang glanced at him sideways: "You're giving me money?"
Song Fei silently turned his head and gazed out the window. He could offer advice, but he couldn't provide the money.
Wang Qingyuan closed the English-Chinese dictionary and suggested, "Why don't we just let her come? She just wants to watch our sports meet, it's no big deal."
"No wonder you two are single," Xiangyang felt it necessary to explain to his single roommates, "When a girl says she wants to come to the sports meet, the subtext is that she wants to come see you. If you really don't have any events, that's fine too. We can just treat it as a picnic for the two of you..."
"That settles it then." Wang Qingyuan said, puzzled.
"But I have a project!" Xiangyang roared to the sky, then began a super imitation show, "Later, my girlfriend is talking to her girlfriends, hey, you're going to watch your boyfriend's sports meet tomorrow? I'm going too. Really? What event is your boyfriend participating in? Sprint relay. And your boyfriend? Bagua Tai Chi Fan."
Wang Qingyuan: "..."
Song Fei glanced at the large red fan lying next to the pillow, speechless with emotion.
Tai Chi Fan and Military Boxing are traditional competitive events at the university, reportedly boasting a glorious history spanning decades. During every sports meet, all colleges participate, determined to secure first or second place. However, with each new generation of students entering the university, these team events have faced increasing resistance. The main issues are the time, effort, and manpower required. Freshmen and sophomores participate collectively, yet even if they win, the points aren't significantly higher than in individual events. No one wants to spend months training just to entertain the school leaders; they'd rather practice running or throwing events to genuinely bring glory to their department. Over time, these two events have gradually degenerated into performance events. Initially, several departments participated, but in the last two years, it has become fixed: Tai Chi Fan for the History Department and Military Boxing for the Mathematics Department.
One is arts and the other is science; one is gentle and the other is firm. I don't know if it was the school leaders who forced them to choose, or if the college leaders genuinely loved it, or if these two colleges were destined to suffer this calamity. In any case, it was the students who suffered in the end.
What's even more outrageous is that, in order to make the performance more powerful, the Tai Chi fans they purchased this year have stainless steel fan ribs and are covered with a large red silk fan surface. When they are swung, they make a rustling sound, as fierce and stylish as they want.
A somber silence spread; it was a painful topic from which no one could escape unscathed.
"Where's Ren Zhe?" In the sorrowful silence, Song Fei realized that 440 was missing a key general.
Xiangyang shrugged: "What else can we do? Just a day trip, I guess."
Campus day trips are a dating tool developed by male students in the Tourism Management department. They typically target first-year female students from the same university. The process usually involves upperclassmen planning a campus tour under the guise of "professional internships," then, with an innocent smile, they target naive first-year students, claiming it's about discovering the hidden beauty of the campus. Late October is the prime time to deceive these newly enrolled female students.
"Holy crap! Is it real?!" Xiang Yang exclaimed, tumbling down from the top bunk and flung open the dormitory door to peek inside.
Song Fei, sitting on the bed, was startled and stared at the top of her roommate's head, asking, "What's wrong?"
Xiang Yang ignored him and continued to peer out. Song Fei, intrigued, jumped down and followed him, also peering out.
The corridor of the boys' dormitory building is long and narrow, with dozens of dorm rooms spread out on both sides, almost stretching as far as the eye can see. Room 440 is located on the west side, and now at the end of the east corridor, a few people can be vaguely seen gathered, but they are too far away to see clearly.
"Wow, it seems to be true." Zhao Jinxin from room 441 next door also opened his door and came out. When he saw his two classmates peeking in, he quickly exchanged greetings.
Song Fei was so anxious she was practically sick with worry. She was so curious, it was like her heart was being torn apart: "What is it?!"
Wang Qingyuan came over from behind: "Check the group yourself."
Song Fei and his classmates had a college WeChat group, but because it had so many members and was constantly buzzing with messages, mostly about trivial matters, Song Fei eventually muted it. Hearing Wang Qingyuan mention the group now, his immediate thought was to check it out. He rushed back to his phone, opened it, and found the screen filled with "Holy crap," "What the hell," and "This is fucking ridiculous," ignoring the reactions of the counselors in the group. Song Fei scrolled through about a hundred messages before finally seeing the important news—a student in room 402 of the archaeology department had been missing for four days. The college had kept it a secret from the university, but this morning, the student's laptop bag and half a human leg were found in the weeds outside the west gate. It's now suspected the student has been murdered, and the police are examining the student's belongings in room 402. Meanwhile, the three roommates have been questioned separately.
Before watching, Song Fei had some expectations, but after watching, she felt utterly bored. Something might have actually happened, otherwise the police wouldn't have come, but the most likely explanation was that something was lost and the owner called the police. These kinds of things are common in the dorms; the rumors about people going missing or being murdered are definitely just made up from watching too much news. She sees eight of these kinds of school ghost stories on her WeChat Moments every day, all made up as if they were actually there, even mentioning half a leg – if you're so capable, show us a picture!
As if just to criticize Song Fei, less than ten comments followed the classmate who broke the news, and someone posted a "picture from the scene, suspected to be from the classmate who reported the case."
The picture was blurry, and the small image was completely blurry. Song Fei couldn't resist clicking to see it. The result was a leg that was still clearly visible even if the photo was shaky and out of focus. The leg above the knee had disappeared, leaving only the calf and foot. The calf was already a bloody mess. Only the white Nike shoe on the foot stood out starkly against the congealed and blackened blood.
Song Fei felt nauseous.
He still firmly believed that this so-called "on-site photo" was just something he found anywhere online, but unfortunately, it reminded him of the "classic movies" he had watched online. The two images overlapped, and his stomach started to churn with a sour taste.