Xie Yu himself didn't notice that the frustration and annoyance was disappearing from his body little by little.
He folded the note up again. The trash can was just beside him; he hesitated for two seconds but didn't toss it.
There was something special about He Zhao.
His careless, casual attitude highlighted his colorful presence.
His grades were so bad it made people's hair stand on end, and all the teachers got headaches just looking at him and weren't sure whether to laugh or cry. Even so, after class, Wu Zheng would occasionally look for He Zhao to play soccer. "You, what did you say during math class? Come to the courtyard at noon and I'll teach you a lesson."
This didn't have anything to do with Xie Yu but he was implicated every time He Zhao was reprimanded by name.
Wu Zheng then pointed at Xie Yu. "You come, too."
So, at noon, after eating lunch, He Zhao dragged Xie Yu to the courtyard. Wan Da, Luo Wenqiang, and the others also came to make up numbers.
Wu Zheng's team was well-populated. Aside from Old Tang and the history teacher from next door, even Dean Jiang was there.
Wu Zheng was talented at throwing chalk, but his soccer skills weren't up to par. He sat in the office every day and didn't exercise, after all, and he was getting on in years, so his physical skills couldn't be compared to that of a young person.
"Let's do this—in a bit, let's play badly." During half-time, He Zhao lowered his voice. "Let Mad Dog and the others score a few more goals."
Wan Da said, "Zhao-ge, that's a tall order. Their skills really are terrible. I'm not like you. This is too difficult of an act and I don't think I can do it."
He Zhao squatted and patted Wan Da's head. "Difficult, my ass. I'll teach you. When he's trying to score, do this... kneel down, got it? Then look very frustrated and punch the ground to show your deep regret at making a mistake on the soccer field..."
Wan Da was a little stunned. "But that's so exaggerated?"
"If you want to act, then do it yourself," Xie Yu said as he squatted at the side, a bottle of water in his hand. He capped it. "Don't drag other people into it."
"This needs everyone's cooperation," He Zhao said. "And you're not other people. You're my deskmate."
Before Xie Yu could reply, Luo Wenqiang was the first to stand up and refuse to cooperate. "Playing fake ball goes severely against the spirit of P.E.! I won't agree to this!"
He Zhao: "......"
Out of respect for Old Wu's soccer experience, they let him off. Wan Da took a leaf from He Zhao's book and even did the fake fall. But Luo Wenqiang would rather die than play badly, so He Zhao took the script for 'Worst Teammate' and did his best to suffocate Contestant Luo Wenqiang's performance.
Luo Wenqiang was in true pain. "Zhao-ge, what on earth are you doing? Which team are you on? ...Yu-ge, do something about him."
Xie Yu: "Why me? It's none of my business."
Wu Zheng and the others had a great time playing ball. They were energized and invigorated, and felt like they were 18 again.
They even made plans for the next game.
The noise in the study gradually grew fainter.
After listening to them fight for so long, Xie Yu had gotten the gist of it. In summary, Zhong Guofei had accidentally knocked to the ground a fountain pen Zhong Jie had received from his mother when he was young. The pen had broken and could no longer write.
