My ridiculous days

We woke up at 10 AM the next day, roused by Lord Wu's phone call. He hung up, lay on his bed, blowing smoke rings and sinking into thought.

Watching Lord Wu, we thought he was still shaken by yesterday's incident, maybe feeling guilty. But Lord Wu's character—he wasn't usually like that. Wait, not "like that" in fighting, but regarding the madam. Hehe.

To our surprise, after blowing three smoke rings, he suddenly announced: "You know..."

We thought he was about to repent!

"Life is like a phone call—either you hang up first or I do." We all nearly collapsed.

"Stop with the J8 philosophizing! Why so much crap?" Xiaohua laughed.

"Actually, smoking can teach life lessons. Look." He blew a perfect smoke ring.

"Career is like this ring: starts small, grows, rises, but eventually collapses. When it does, you wonder: why build it so big?" Lord Wu spoke like a philosopher.

I chuckled: "Then stop eating. No matter how much you eat, it turns to sh*t. Why bother?"

Lord Wu grew agitated, spitting out: "F*ck*ng vulgar!" (Six words, but "TMD" added emphasis—counted as three.)

"Cai Cai, you're a philistine." I was helpless—offending Lord Wu meant trouble. Since I was doomed anyway, might as well go all out.

"Never said I wasn't."

"Great vulgarity approaches elegance!" Xiaohua chimed in.

Thank god for backup—otherwise, I'd have to fight Lord Wu. My build vs. his was like Iraq vs. the U.S.—not even close. Like Iraqi terrorists, my kicks and punches wouldn't phase him. I gave up and got ready to wash up.

Lord Wu, being broad-minded, pretended to let it slide.

After washing, we skipped lunch and chatted in the dorm.

" Heard someone jumped off a building here years ago," Chuanchuan spilled.

"Medical schools are like that," Lord Wu said. "That's why many offer psychological counseling."

"Better to live badly than die well. Can't understand why people jump," Xiaohua sighed.

Mouse joined in: "You 社 (say) which building they jumped from? Our school's buildings are only four or five stories." His accent—always thinking differently, maybe why many southerners excel in business.

"F*ck, four floors are enough to kill! Need a skyscraper?" Spit sneered at Mouse.

Mouse got excited, launching into a dorm legend: "就事 (That time), 饿 (I) jumped from a 思 (12)-meter building, did a front flip, 唠 (landed) safe!" He gestured nonchalantly when saying "safe."

Spit gaped: "Why the hell would you jump?" "Bored—just playing!"

We'd met a "master"—laughing till our stomachs hurt, but no one believed him. Jumping from 12 meters, doing a front flip? Think you're a diver? This was like the primary school story "The Donkey Who Blew His Own Horn"!

Since classes started tomorrow, we debated going out. Problem: where to have fun?

Being out-of-towners, we needed a local. Our class had one, but he was a day student and unreachable. Remembering a fat guy from Class 4 was local, we voted Lord Wu to ask.

Lord Wu went next door; the fat guy was out, only Little J was there. Lord Wu asked about fun spots, like 桌球 (billiards, a sport with rules... you know, right? Don't throw eggs!).

Little J lit up: "I love billiards! F*ck, I asked around—no one knows. The local guy's from a county below, not familiar here."

Lord Wu returned empty-handed, with Little J in tow.

" We should send a rep to find fun spots—excluding net bars, since we know where those are," Lord Wu proposed. Everyone voted him.

Lord Wu had no choice but to grab his bike keys. Little J volunteered to join. Thus, our dorm dispatched two warriors to find the legendary "paradise."

They cycled through twists and turns, finally discovering a billiards place. Little J's real motive was to find a spot to play with Lord Wu. This place fit perfectly:

A basement entertainment complex, brightly lit. Left turn: internet area, further left: beverage bar. Right turn: billiards, arcade games, far right: KTV. Lord Wu and Little J were thrilled—this became our regular hangout. They didn't start playing immediately, though—hungry from skipping meals, they went to eat first.

Lord Wu and Little J found a restaurant called "Northeast Home-Style Cuisine" and ordered two dishes. It was already 3 PM, and the place was packed.

Starving, they wolfed down food but felt something missing. What? Lord Wu and Little J shouted in unison: "Alcohol!"

"Should we drink baijiu or beer?" Little J asked. Lord Wu pondered: "I 脚 (think) we should go with baijiu. We've been drinking beer at gatherings—it's no fun. Honestly, I miss baijiu..." Little J agreed, saying he feared Lord Wu with beer but not with hard liquor.

Put two alcoholics together, and it's like two murderous psychopaths competing to be the toughest, not who repents more. This made me think of Germany and Japan post-WWII: why did Germany atone while Japan visited war shrines unrepentantly? (No need to elaborate, right?) Oops, off-track again.

They ordered a bottle of baijiu and started guzzling. The scene was grand—their boozing dominated the restaurant.

Neither could handle baijiu, but they played tough. After a bottle, they slurred words but pretended to want more.

"Maybe... another beer? You up for it?" Little J challenged.

"F*ck, bring it on!"

"Good! Today, I'll 老子 (old man, a Hubei slang) drink you under the table!" Little J banged the table.

The entire restaurant shot them 鄙夷 (contemptuous) looks. They ordered a beer, and the boss grinned evilly. If more customers were like them, breweries and restaurants would thrive.

In their booze-induced daze, they ordered more beers. Normally, they'd be passed out, but today—maybe bonding over drinks, excitement about finding a fun spot, or... who knows?

After downing god knows how much, it was past 6 PM when they staggered out. The boss asked if they could walk, offering a nearby hotel. Talk about customer service.

Lord Wu and Little J mounted their bikes. The late autumn sun hadn't set yet. Lord Wu asked if Little J was okay; Little J mumbled he was fine. Too drunk to notice Little J's slurring, Lord Wu led the way.

Little J's limbs wouldn't cooperate. "Lord Wu, wait!" Lord Wu slowed, but Little J crashed into him, sending both to the ground.

Lord Wu helped Little J up, who insisted he was fine. They remounted, but this became a cycle: ride, fall, get up, repeat. Finally, their bikes broke, so they carried them, asking directions until they reached campus.

In the dorm, Chuanchuan and Spit were playing cards. Seeing Lord Wu and Little J's sorry state, they were shocked.

Helping them to bed, Lord Wu promptly threw up on Xiaohua's bed, while Little J passed out. We cleaned up, moved Lord Wu to his bed, and tried to rinse his mouth.

"Get Lord Wu's towel!" Xiaohua told Spit, who looked confused: "Where?"

"On the radiator!" Xiaohua snapped.

Spit blinked: "Radiator... what's that?"

We realized—Spit was from the south, never seeing a radiator. Chuanchuan showed him, and Spit, Mouse, and Little Di went "Oh!" in realization. We facepalmed.

Xiaohua, p*ss*d about his soiled bed, scolded Spit: "Spit, are you dense?"

"Seriously, I didn't know that's a radiator." He looked helpless.

"You're so 磨叽 (gibberish)!" Xiaohua fumed.

"Gibberish... what's that?" Spit tilted his head.

We suspected he was playing dumb. Chuanchuan explained: "It means you're tedious."

"Tedious... like meat?" Spit was killing us.

"I mean you're like Tang Sanzang (from Journey to the West)—non-stop!" I added, fed up with his act.

"Oh! I thought it meant 'lonely.' In my hometown, we reverse words—like ' 欢喜 (joy)' as ' 喜欢 (like).' I thought ' 寂寞 (lonely)' reversed was ' 寞寂 (moji).'" We wanted to die.

Is the south really this confusing?

...

The next day, we'd finished morning classes and returned at noon to find Lord Wu awake. No one skips the first day except special cases like him. Besides, we needed to spot potential beauties—we'd be together for years.

The curriculum was appalling: 6 classes daily, two evening self-studies, half-day Saturday, and evening self-study Sunday. This was college? Regret for choosing this school hit hard.