Chapter Sixty-Four: Disliking the South, Disliking the Northwest

The second performance featured three boys dancing street style. Although their moves were far from perfect—some steps were out of sync, and sometimes their pace was either too fast or too slow compared to the music—the very fact that they dared to stand up and perform in front of everyone took courage. The willingness to express oneself deserved encouragement. Reflecting on my own student days, how many of us truly dared to take the stage and showcase ourselves?

The following acts were all songs, with a wide variety of choices, though most opted for tracks by Jay Chou. Since the boys and girls sat facing each other, Lin Nan kept pretending to watch the performers in the center, while in truth, his gaze drifted toward Si Dong.

Before long, Si Dong sensed that someone was watching her. Following the line of sight, she quickly discovered it was Lin Nan. Their eyes met briefly, and Si Dong immediately looked away, but with the corner of her eye, she could still feel Lin Nan’s gaze lingering on her. She felt powerless to stop it, so she let him look. Though it made her feel a bit uneasy, there was a faint delight in her heart.

Si Dong was unsure what was happening to herself. Lately, even when reading, she couldn’t settle her mind as before. Was this what adolescent crushes felt like? Could she, like the other girls in class, be smitten with this sunny, basketball-playing boy?

Si Dong covered her face with both hands. In the dead of winter, she was surprised to feel her cheeks burning. When the first evening self-study session ended, Lin Nan had spent more than an hour pretending—yet blatantly—watching Si Dong. What he didn't know was that Zhang Mengfan, sitting across from him, had also been watching him watch Si Dong for over an hour.

Most of the students listed on the program had finished performing, and the bags of snacks on the table had been nearly devoured. The Ferrero Rocher chocolates, in particular, went fast—one for each person, gone in an instant. Some classmates had never tasted such expensive chocolates before. Knowing that these treats were gifts from Lin Nan’s boss-like fans, those students savored the delicacies with mixed feelings.

During the ten-minute intermission, some students went to the restroom, while others ran to the corridor to see what activities were happening in other classes. Unlike usual self-study nights, the entire first-year building was filled with laughter and cheer.

When the bell for the second self-study session rang, the students returned to the classroom, each sitting in their seat with a different expression—some excited for the upcoming games, others anxious about being picked.

The first game was Pass the Flower. One person stood at the podium with their back to the class, tapping the blackboard with a plastic bottle as a drum, while the seated students passed around a shuttlecock as the “flower.” When the person on the podium stopped drumming, whoever was holding the flower had to come forward and either perform or choose truth or dare.

The game began quickly. The boy on the podium started drumming, and the flower was passed starting from the girls’ side. At first, the girls hurried to pass it along, but as it reached the boys, Lin Nan sensed something was off. The flower seemed to be headed straight for him! Sure enough, Lin Nan saw the boy at the podium glance back, and there was a brief, telling exchange of glances with the student holding the flower. Then, the flower was tossed directly to Lin Nan, and just as it landed in his hands, the drumming stopped.

Everyone cheered—what luck, the first to perform would be the class celebrity, Lin Nan. Amid whistles and applause, Lin Nan had no choice but to stand up. He knew it was a set-up, even a bit of cheating, but he didn’t want to spoil the fun. After a moment’s thought, he smiled and said, “I’ll perform.”

With that, Lin Nan fetched the basketball from the corner of the classroom and spun it on his fingertip. “Satisfied?” he asked after a while. The girls, innocent as they were, nodded in agreement, though the boys were less impressed. Still, his performance was deemed acceptable.

Lin Nan put the basketball back and returned to his seat. The second round of Pass the Flower began. This time, the boys made no effort to hide their intentions, passing the flower straight toward Lin Nan. He understood now—they were determined to make him pick truth or dare at least once.

The same scenario played out, and once again, the flower ended up in Lin Nan’s hands. Well then, Lin Nan thought, let everyone have their fun tonight. After brief consideration, he chose truth. Dares could be unpredictable, sometimes beyond his control, but he had nothing to hide with the truth.

Zhang Mengfan brought over the freshly purchased truth-or-dare cards and handed them to Lin Nan, smiling sweetly. Lin Nan ignored the smile, and, like a card shark, swiftly drew a card. He showed the front of the card to the gathered boys. “What’s the question?” he asked.

“Who do you like?” one of the boys called out with a grin.

The class erupted with excitement.

“No way! What a spicy question!” Lin Nan exclaimed, quickly snatching the card to look at it himself. His heart skipped a beat, and so did Si Dong’s, sitting beside him.

But the card actually read, “What do you dislike?”

Both of them breathed a silent sigh of relief.

The rest of the class lost interest immediately. After all, who cares what someone dislikes? “I don’t like ginger,” or “I don’t like English,”—these were hardly juicy answers.

After a moment’s thought, Lin Nan replied, with a touch of poetry, “I don’t like the ever-springlike South, nor the sparsely populated, perpetually cold Northwest.”

As his words fell, Si Dong, who had been waiting in anticipation for Lin Nan’s answer, blushed furiously and lowered her head. Good heavens, why was he so direct! Si Dong covered her face, feeling her hands burning hot.

The rest of the class understood instantly: Lin Nan liked the East. The more observant and clever students connected the dots—Lin Nan’s deskmate was named Si Dong, meaning “Thinking of the East.” Seeing Si Dong’s bashful, head-down posture, they chose not to expose the hidden meaning in Lin Nan’s words. After months together, everyone knew Si Dong was quiet and shy. If she were a lively type, there would have been a chorus of teasing by now. With a gentle girl like Si Dong, it was best to let things be to avoid embarrassing her.

Amusingly, a few self-proclaimed high-IQ boys interpreted Lin Nan’s answer geographically. Although Lingnan City was in Jiangnan Province, which was in the south of Huaxia, it was located at the northernmost edge of the province, which itself stretched across the southeast. On the map, Lingnan City was almost in central Huaxia, and even leaned more to the east. So, if Lin Nan didn’t like the South or the Northwest, he must like the East—in other words, his hometown. The boys continued discussing their analyses, prompting a more handsome boy nearby to realize why these guys were all single—because they were hopelessly oblivious.

Among the girls, many expressed envy toward Si Dong. Still, high school girls tended to be more united and naive, unlike some in university...

As for Zhang Mengfan, she maintained a calm expression, her thoughts unreadable. After two rounds, the boys stopped targeting Lin Nan, and the game proceeded fairly. Most students picked truth or dare, since those with talents had already performed. The truth questions were mostly tame:

“Do you have a crush on anyone?”
“When do you look your most handsome?”
“What’s your ugliest moment?”

These were manageable. The dares were equally harmless: handstands, frog jumps, walk like a crab—silly but fun challenges. Clearly, class monitor Zhang Mengfan had weeded out the more provocative cards in advance, showing her consideration. After all, classmates aren’t the same as friends, and in a group setting, not every student can cut loose in front of everyone. The monitor’s approach was spot-on.

Once everyone grew bored of Pass the Flower, only the game of Musical Chairs remained. Six names were drawn from the whole class, and as music played, they circled five chairs. When the music stopped, they scrambled to sit. One person was eliminated each round, with a chair removed each time, until only one winner remained.

Zhang Mengfan had already written every student’s name on a card and shuffled them in front of the class. She had planned to rig the draw so she and Lin Nan would both be picked, but after Lin Nan’s earlier confession, she decided to let the draw be fair and random—though a faint hope lingered in her heart.

In the end, neither she, nor Lin Nan, nor Si Dong were picked. Lin Nan had even fantasized about scrambling for a chair with Si Dong—but it was not to be.

So passed a brief but joyous evening, one of the rare moments of relaxation in high school. Yet not every student could so easily rein in their wandering minds afterward, which was precisely why schools so rarely allowed such events. Not every parent was as attentive as Lin Lang was to Lin Nan—sometimes due to family circumstances, temperament, or limited ability.

All in all, that night, quite a few students whose minds had already flown chose to sneak out for an all-nighter. Thus, the school leadership, well-versed in such matters, organized an unexpected dorm inspection at 1 a.m., assembling teachers from each class to conduct a lightning-fast bed check.

They strictly counted the number of students in each dormitory. Any discrepancy was immediately checked to see if someone was officially excused. If not, an overnight escape was confirmed.

Meanwhile, Lin Nan, fast asleep, had no idea how lively the dormitory building was that night. Thanks to special consideration from the principal, the inspection team merely peeked into Lin Nan’s dorm and left quietly, unlike the near door-busting checks elsewhere.

And so, that first “large-scale event” of 2013 was given an official name by the school: Operation Spring Thunder!