NOVEL WEB Ch. 11
Chapter 11
“Captain... why are we here doing grunt work?”
Right now the people hustling on stage to tweak the sound system are none other than the famous “Back-Alley Cats” band.
Under the direction of their captain and drummer, Ye Zi, the guitarist and bassist are lugging gear like pack mules.
“Idiots, I had to shamelessly haggle this gig out of the student-council’s hands—show some gratitude.”
“Do you realize how many courses you losers fail every year? Don’t come crying when you’re short on credits and can’t graduate.”
The long-haired keyboardist drawls from behind the mixer, “If you actually lifted something instead of just waving your sticks, I might believe you.”
The short-haired bassist chimes in, “Yeah, yeah.”
Guitarist: “Ahh, Xiao Lan, stop wobbling—it’s gonna fall!”
Xiao Lan the bassist instantly straightens and readjusts the amp in his arms.
Freed up, the guitarist piles on: “Besides, among us, Ye Zi’s probably racked up the most failed classes.”
Captain Ye Zi lifts a hand to cover a cough, eyes sliding away guiltily.
“Hem—I fought the student-council vultures for this job all afternoon. Can’t you be gentle with me?”
She shoots the rest a timid side-glance.
Everyone: “......”
Just as the work is almost done, bassist Xiao Lan wipes sweat from his forehead, slings an arm over Ye Zi’s shoulder and asks,
“Oh yeah, I heard Xiao Hei’s in love. Who’s the lucky guy? What year?”
Curious gossip-fire sparks in Xiao Lan’s eyes.
Ye Zi scrunches her face, plants a palm on Xiao Lan’s cheek and eases him off.
“Dope, don’t cling to me out of nowhere—you’re hot and sweaty.”
Xiao Lan pouts. “Tch, stingy.”
Ye Zi sighs, folds her arms, and tilts her head toward the dull night sky.
“First-year, name’s Lin Zhe. Xiao Hei even asked me to do some recon.”
Xiao Hei is Yunxiao’s nickname in the band: all-black outfits plus a permanent icy scowl on and off stage.
Xiao Lan: “Oh, really......”
The guitarist suddenly burns with curiosity about this Lin Zhe guy. “Wonder what he’s like, to make our Love-Insulator Xiao Hei yearn like that.”
Ye Zi: “I’m kinda curious myself.”
While they’re picturing the mysterious boy, the keyboard girl deadpans in her lazy voice:
“Love-Insulator... not sure any of us qualifies to throw that stone......”
The air freezes, then drops to absolute zero.
Visible depression......
Only Ye Zi forces a bright grin, fingers twirling a strand of hair, gaze drifting.
“Actually, don’t be fooled—I’ve dated plenty of boyfriends; romance is old news to me.”
Even Xiao Lan joins in, voice squeaky: “Right, if the band weren’t so busy, my suitors would queue to the North Pole.”
The keyboardist hangs her head, gloom rolling off her in waves. “Liar.”
The guitarist blushes, rubbing the tip of her nose. “Honestly, I’m actually......”
But the half-hearted act is skewered at once: “Stop bluffing......”
In seconds the whole crew deflates, infected by the keyboardist’s despair, shoulders sagging, no one speaking.
After who-knows-how-long they snap their heads up and glare murderously at the girl behind the mixer.
(Daily craving for Buou—check 1/1.)
Why does that idiot always have to spill the truth?
The Back-Alley Cats’ nicknames mash given names with cat breeds: lead-guitarist Yunxiao is Xiao Hei, captain-drummer Ye Zi is Da Ju, bassist is Xiao Lan, rhythm-guitarist is Li Hua.
The keyboardist’s nickname is Buou—Ragdoll.
Buou, however, is anything but cuddly; if she’d just sit still she’d pass for a proper young lady.
Feeling the homicidal stares, Buou shrinks and buries her head in the mixer, silent.
At last, after the horsing around, phase one of the job is finished.
Next up: running the soundboard and coordinating cues.
The bleachers are already packed with seniors who got the memo, and more students press against the fence or sprawl across the field.
A Third-Company instructor lifts a megaphone and barks, “Anyone with talent—get up here! This is your shot to shine, plus it earns you priority mating rights in the brutal university dating scene!”
“Don’t be shy—step up! Don’t let the other companies show us up.”
Nearby instructors from rival companies start rallying their own troops.
The freshmen on the lawn glance at the fired-up instructors, then at one another; no one moves.
After the prison of high school they still haven’t thawed enough to let their real selves out.
In the far corner sits Lin Zhe, phone already out. He logs into the account “Zhao Ge Mimic Bug” and dives into the forum to flame Zhao Ge’s anti-fans.
Watching other companies field contestants, Third Company’s instructor grows frantic—why isn’t anyone answering his call?
Then, from Second Platoon, a hand shoots up, finger pointing straight at corner-sitting Lin Zhe:
“Sir, I nominate someone—Platoon One’s Lin Zhe!”
Before Lin Zhe can react, the instructor grabs him by the collar and hauls him upright.
The instructor pointed straight at Lin Zhe and declared, “All right, hot-shot—you’re up first.”
He didn’t bother asking what Lin Zhe could actually do, or whether he had any talent at all.
“Messenger! Report to Regiment HQ—loudest voice you’ve got!”
The boy who’d just been anointed messenger looked as if he’d been granted a pardon. He sprang up like a startled rabbit, sprinted to the middle of the field, and yelled for all he was worth:
“Re-port! Third Company, First Platoon—Private Lin Zhe requests permission to enter the lists!”
The drawn-out shout rippled across the parade ground, sparking laughter from freshmen and seniors alike. The whole place brightened with sudden, rowdy cheer.
Seeing the trick, instructors from the other companies flashed Third Company’s trainer a thumbs-up and jumped on the bandwagon.
In seconds the entire campus rang with a chain of announcements, each louder than the last—megaphones had nothing on these voices.
“To Regiment HQ—Fourth Company, Third Platoon...”
“To Regiment HQ—Second Company, First Platoon...”
For a moment the drill field felt like the front line. Even the deans and department heads in the reviewing stands were doubled over with amusement.
It was a first.
Back in Third Company, once Lin Zhe had broken the ice, the instructor’s relentless hollering finally coaxed a few more cadets onto the stage.
Lin Zhe himself was still trying to work out how he’d gone from sitting on the grass to standing in the spotlight. He pushed his glasses up his nose and let out a small, puzzled:
“Meow?”