May 5th, Sunday. The fourth lunar month had arrived.
Zhou Li had a day off.
But he still got up very early, studying the test paper images Li Tongzhuo had sent him the night before.
He skipped the English paper. His English grades were quite poor; he could only reliably score points on the composition. For the rest, he had to rely on luck.
His math, however, was quite good.
They were supposedly two sets of math papers, but in reality, they were just two A3 sheets. All the questions were handwritten in black ink, the script hasty and forceful. It didn't belong to the English teacher, nor was it their math teacher's handwriting.
Such unofficial papers were nothing new to third-year high school students; they were the teachers' private stashes, brimming with condensed experience.
There were no multiple-choice or fill-in-the-blank questions, only comprehensive problems.
And they were quite difficult.
They would be mentally draining to solve.
But the payoff was also high.
So Zhou Li, following the images, copied the questions into his notebook one by one and, without dawdling, dove into tackling them.
He first picked a few that looked deceptively simple to warm up his brain, and by the time Aunt Jiang called him for breakfast, he had finished them. Aunt Jiang felt sorry for Zhou Li's diligence and told him he could relax a bit. Zhou Li nodded, deflecting her concern.
He returned to his room and continued to wrestle with the problems.
By this time, Li Tongzhuo had also woken up. After "stealing" a round of "energy," she sent Zhou Li a message—
Li Daimao: I can't even do the first problem. What am I gonna do?
Zhou Li glanced at the first question.
Zhou Li: Voice message 53"
Zhou Li: Voice message 36"
Solve it first, then explain it to someone else. That'll reinforce the memory. Perfect!
He wrestled with the problems until noon. Just as Li Tongzhuo was complaining to him that her mutton soup was ruined, someone knocked on Zhou Li's door.
"Time to eat," Zhu Shuang's voice called.
"Oh."
Zhou Li put down his phone and went to eat.
There was twice-cooked pork with cabbage, braised pork trotters with soybeans, and Kung Pao chicken. Additionally, there was a clay pot of chicken soup and, on the side, two spicy rabbit heads bought from an outside stall—a specialty Aunt Jiang had bought for him.
Aunt Jiang emerged from the kitchen carrying the last dish: stir-fried celtuce.
"Eat up! What are you waiting for me for?"
So the two brothers began to dig in.
Zhu Shuang picked up a piece of celtuce and popped it into his mouth, following it with a mouthful of rice, chewing in small bites. Suddenly, he turned to Zhou Li, his eyes slightly narrowed. "How about we go play some ball after lunch?"
He was talking about badminton.
Before Zhou Li could respond, Aunt Jiang, who was nearby, said, "That sounds good, Zhou Li. You've been working too hard lately. It's good to balance work and play. Just don't do anything too strenuous right after eating; it's not good for you. Rest at home for a bit before you go."
Zhou Li thought for a moment and then nodded. "Okay."
Zhu Shuang picked a peanut from the Kung Pao chicken. "The sports center or Sanxiao?"
"Sanxiao," Zhou Li replied.
"Alright then." Zhu Shuang nodded. Seeing Zhou Li eating quickly, he also sped up.
After lunch, Zhou Li put on a disposable glove and started gnawing on a rabbit head. Aunt Jiang and Zhu Shuang stared at him, their eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity, surprise, and other unreadable emotions.
After finishing the rabbit head, Zhou Li and Zhu Shuang agreed to leave at one-thirty. Zhou Li then returned to his room.
He focused on wrestling with the problems for another half hour, then took a short nap. His phone alarm woke him. While turning off the alarm, Zhou Li saw a string of QQ messages.
Li Daimao: Voice message 12"
Li Daimao: [Image]
Li Daimao: Voice message 9"
Li Daimao: Voice message 3"
Li Daimao: [Emoticon]
Li Daimao: Voice message 11"
...
So many voice messages.
Zhou Li felt no desire to listen to them. He changed into a pair of loose-fitting harem pants, then, after a moment's thought, swapped his top for a sports tee before slipping on his sandals and leaving the room.
Zhu Shuang was already sitting on the sofa, racket in hand, waiting.
He was wearing a plain white cotton T-shirt with no design and a pair of shorts, looking very crisp and clean.
"Ready to go?" Zhu Shuang stood up.
"Yeah."
The two left the house one after the other.
Sanxiao, their alma mater, was close to home, and they often came here to play badminton on weekends. Usually, the school would be closed on weekends, with only staff and their families allowed inside, as there was a building on campus specifically for teachers' residences. During junior high, Zhu Shuang had once pleaded with a teacher to let them in; they were visiting their old school at the time. After leaving, Zhu Shuang went straight to the guardhouse. While the memory was still fresh, he made quite an impression on the two security guards, successfully convincing them that he and Zhou Li were the sons of the teacher who had just let them in. Afterwards, they often came to play badminton.
By the time the security guard realized what had happened, it was too late—he had already been charmed by Zhu Shuang.
"Uncle Zhang, you're on duty today!" Zhu Shuang called out.
"Yes, yes, we're here to play badminton again. I brought you a pack of cigarettes. I don't know if they're any good; please don't mind if they're not to your liking." Zhu Shuang took out a pack of cigarettes. Seeing Uncle Zhang refuse, he looked a bit awkward. "All the cigarettes at my house were gifts for my dad. My mom insisted I bring them to you, saying no one at home smokes, and they'd just end up being given away to someone else anyway...
"So it's better to give them to you than to someone else."
After successfully gifting the cigarettes, Zhu Shuang chatted with Uncle Zhang for a bit longer. He sighed about the immense pressure of high school and, when the conversation turned to Uncle Zhang's daughter, even offered a few study tips before finally heading into the school.
The campus was very quiet. Only a few teachers were playing basketball, the rhythmic THUD-THUD of the ball echoing across the grounds.
The badminton courts were on the other side.
They each took a side, and Zhu Shuang served.
They started gently. The pristine white shuttlecock traced graceful arcs through the air, back and forth. The soft, muted thwacks were rhythmic, making it seem as if they could play like this indefinitely.
Very relaxed and casual.
Before long, they were warmed up.
The intensity of the match suddenly increased.
Both had their turns attacking and defending. Each leap to smash the shuttlecock produced an explosive WHOOSH-CRACK, the sound reverberating across the quiet campus and attracting the attention of the teachers playing basketball.
After a while, the teachers simply put down their basketballs and came over to watch.
After Zhou Li missed a defensive shot, Zhu Shuang, racket in hand, let out a long breath. His face was already covered in sweat, and he quickly took the opportunity to stretch his limbs.
Zhou Li, while picking up the shuttlecock, invited the teachers to join them.
So, the number of players increased from two to seven.
They played to five points; losers rotated out.
Obviously, Zhou Li and Zhu Shuang's stamina and skills were far beyond the teachers', but this didn't spoil their fun.
Playing against each other was too intense for just the two of them. With the teachers joining in, they got some much-needed breaks. Facing two experts who weren't trying to score aggressive points but instead fed them gentle shots, the teachers also played comfortably. A single rally could last a long time. Even when the shuttlecock went wildly off course, Zhu Shuang and Zhou Li could retrieve it and send back a perfect return.
By five in the afternoon, the teachers' swings had noticeably weakened, so the two brothers packed up their rackets and headed home.
Having more people multiplied the fun, but the real contest was still between the two of them; the teachers just filled the gaps. Overall, Zhou Li lost a bit more often. It was always by a narrow margin, though.
On the way back, Zhu Shuang's legs were a bit wobbly, so Zhou Li proactively took both rackets. "Let's have a protein shake when we get back and do some stretches," he said.
Zhu Shuang turned to him, exhaling as he listlessly kicked at the ground. "Bro, how come you're not tired at all?"
Zhou Li replied, "My movements were more economical."
His stamina had always been excellent, a trait particularly evident in a high-intensity sport like badminton, rumored to be one of the most demanding.
However, Zhou Li hadn't really tried other sports; badminton was the only one he knew how to play.
It was Zhu Shuang who had taught him, after all.
Zhou Li figured that initially, Zhu Shuang must have been under strict orders from Aunt Jiang: find a way to get his older brother to exercise. Zhu Shuang had loved badminton since he was little. He was very gifted and played exceptionally well, which was why Zhou Li had started playing.
Zhou Li even remembered how, at first, Zhu Shuang had adopted a teacherly air when playing with him. But it wasn't long before Zhou Li surpassed him and won.
That defeat truly crushed Zhu Shuang's pride. The little guy went home with tears in his eyes, racket in hand. He locked his door before bursting into tears. That very afternoon, he smashed his piggy bank and enrolled in an expensive class in the city center, supposedly one that trained players for the junior league.
Zhu Shuang was only ten at the time; Zhou Li was eleven.
After two months of grueling training, Zhu Shuang, with a bit of sympathetic leeway from his brother, managed to win a match. He never slacked off after that. Besides playing with Zhou Li, he also played with classmates at school and would sneak off to the sports center on weekends to play against more skilled opponents. His brother was very considerate, allowing Zhu Shuang to maintain a slight, almost imperceptible, edge over him.
Perhaps this gives him a sense of accomplishment? Zhou Li mused.
They were almost home. Zhu Shuang walked slightly ahead, occasionally glancing back at Zhou Li. I'll increase my nightly runs from eight kilometers to ten starting today, he secretly resolved. And I need to pick up the pace!