Sprained… foot?
Just a sprained foot?
Lin Zhexia was stunned.
“Running six laps,” Chi Yao said. “How else could I get injured?”
After her initial shock, Lin Zhexia realized she had overreacted.
At that moment, the doctor entered the room, and Chi Yao added: “Nothing serious, just need some rest. See how you feel—if walking doesn’t hurt, you can return to your unit.”
Hearing the doctor’s words, Lin Zhexia’s anxious heart finally settled back down.
The doctor had other matters to attend to; he needed to supervise the training ground to prevent any unusual situations.
Lin Zhexia sat at the side for a while, then prepared to leave. “Since you’re fine, I’ll go first.”
Chi Yao: “Who said I’m fine?”
As he spoke, he tossed a sheet of paper and a pen to her from the desk.
Lin Zhexia held the paper and pen, unsure what he meant.
Chi Yao: “Self-criticism report.”
Only then did Lin Zhexia remember that the chief instructor, besides making him run twenty laps, also required him to write a self-criticism report.
She dreaded writing essays and would prefer running laps, so she used Chi Yao’s own words against him: “It’s not that I don’t want to help you write, it’s that I’m embarrassed to contaminate this paper with my failing language skills.”
Chi Yao snickered: “I didn’t know ’embarrassed’ was in your vocabulary.”
Lin Zhexia: “Just learned it today.”
“Forget it,” Chi Yao extended his hand, gesturing for her to return the paper and pen. “I shouldn’t expect anything from someone illiterate.”
But Lin Zhexia held onto the paper tightly: “Who are you calling illiterate? I’ve scored as high as fifty-eight on essays when I’m in good form.”
Although she dreaded writing essays, the reverse psychology worked.
Besides, she had eaten the food Chi Yao bought, so helping him write a self-criticism report didn’t seem unreasonable.
The afternoon training schedule was sparse, giving her half an hour to write in the infirmary.
Lin Zhexia wrote down “Self-Criticism Report.”
Chi Yao: “Don’t write so ugly.”
The pen in Lin Zhexia’s hand paused: “I’m deliberately writing messily so the instructor can’t recognize it. It’s a tactical move. If you’re not helping, keep quiet.”
Chi Yao remained silent for a moment.
A few minutes later, he read aloud what she had written: “…To be honest with all the instructors, I’ve always lived a repressed life.”
Chi Yao slowly asked: “I live a repressed life?”
“Can you not interrupt my creative process?” Lin Zhexia looked up.
She continued: “You said yourself you went out for fresh air. I need to address the theme—why go out for fresh air… because of repression.”
Chi Yao responded with an “Oh” and asked: “So why am I repressed?”
Lin Zhexia: “I haven’t figured that out yet.”
After thinking for two minutes, Lin Zhexia continued writing:
The reason I’m repressed is that I yearn for freedom. I, Chi Yao, am just such an unrestrained person.
Freedom! This subject that humans have explored unceasingly since the dawn of mankind, from a very young age, I’ve pondered: What exactly is freedom?
Last night, I tried to seek this answer beyond the wall.
Before she could complete the character for “answer” (still missing the “wood” radical), Chi Yao snatched the paper from Lin Zhexia’s hand.
“The door is right there,” Chi Yao said. “See yourself out.”
All beginnings are difficult, but having started, Lin Zhexia felt somewhat reluctant to stop: “I just got into the creative flow…”
Chi Yao: “Get out.”
“…”
Fine, she would leave.
She didn’t want to stay anyway.
Just as she stood up, the person on the sickbed gave a light cough.
She was about to say, “Just spit out whatever else you have to say,” but Chi Yao spoke in a tone completely different from before.
This person usually spoke in a languid tone, with a hint of subtle mockery, but when he said this sentence, he put those aside and lowered his voice, creating an almost tender illusion.
“I’m fine,” Chi Yao said. “Next time, don’t cry.”
Military training quickly entered its final day. As parting approached, a curious chemical reaction developed between students and instructors.
The place they had once eagerly wanted to escape now filled them with reluctance to leave.
Facing the instructors they had secretly cursed a thousand times in their hearts, they discovered these people weren’t so detestable after all.