Chapter Twenty-Eight: Diluted Oil

For students, winter break always passes in the blink of an eye. After all, it amounts to barely twenty days in total. When those days are over and everyone meets again at school, there is generally little difference between classmates now and last semester. Unlike summer vacation, where two months can bring about significant changes in some students.

But for those sharing a dormitory with Long Bisheng, it soon became clear that this premise did not hold true.

“That wooden block from Xinjiang”—the nickname Long Bisheng’s roommates used privately—had transformed completely in just twenty days. On his return to the dorm, he cheerfully brought out a pile of Xinjiang specialties: dried grapes, dried Hami melon, dried white apricots, thick-skinned almonds, Xinjiang dates, and so on, distributing them among his roommates. Why all dried fruit? Well, in the depths of winter, what else could be brought? Surely not a handful of lamb skewers to grill on the spot.

While these weren’t rare delicacies—in Xi’an, such things weren’t exactly novel—they were still snacks, and to children, anything edible held an irresistible allure. So his roommates ate enthusiastically.

Having enjoyed his treats, it was only natural to reciprocate. Soon, everyone was swapping the snacks they’d brought from home. Long Bisheng was truly different from last semester; he no longer uttered annoying remarks like “snacking is bad for your health,” which had previously irked his roommates. In fact, he ate with even more gusto than the others.

With this exchange, Long Bisheng quickly blended in with his peers. Children’s circles are simple; previously, Long Bisheng had struggled to fit in for two reasons: first, he wasn’t from Shaanxi, which created an invisible barrier, since all the other students were locals; second, he never took the initiative to socialize. Once the latter was resolved, integrating became effortless.

In other respects, Long Bisheng remained the most diligent in training; he never missed a session or arrived late. The rotund headmaster, upon learning of this, couldn’t help but sigh—if only all students were like Long Bisheng, the school’s profits would shrink dramatically!

The reason was simple: students paid an all-inclusive fee. If you ate, washed clothes, and lived at school, you wouldn’t spend a penny all semester. Long Bisheng hadn’t spent extra at all last term, but most students occasionally dined out or stayed home for several days, saving the school considerable costs.

Luckily, Long Bisheng was one of a kind...

Outside of classes, he changed a great deal. A few days after the new term began, his roommates planned to see a movie together one evening. They had grown accustomed to not inviting Long Bisheng, since he never joined them last semester. But remembering his recent generosity, it felt wrong not to ask, so one of them casually called out to him. Even the caller didn’t expect him to accept; it was just a token invitation. To everyone’s astonishment, Long Bisheng agreed immediately and asked excitedly, “What movie is it? Is it any good? Who stars in it? I love Stephen Chow’s films—is it his new release?”

The others were dumbfounded. The one who’d invited him felt a chill—he wasn’t even particularly close to Long Bisheng, so how had a casual invitation elicited such a response when previous attempts had failed? Did Long Bisheng harbor some intention toward him? It was unsettling.

After watching “A Chinese Odyssey,” Long Bisheng fully entered their little circle, joining his roommates for movie outings every few days. He rarely played games, though—while he often accompanied them to the arcade, he would stand behind others, smiling as he watched.

It wasn’t that Long Bisheng disliked games; in fact, he was more excited than the players themselves when watching classics like “Legend of Sword and Fairy.” He simply didn’t want to waste time playing, and besides, gaming was far more expensive than going to the movies. Three yuan could buy a ticket for an evening in the video hall, but only an hour in the arcade. In his view, watching others play was nearly the same as playing himself.

Unbeknownst to Long Bisheng, his behavior brought relief to many.

His roommates were the first to feel the effect. Last semester, their inability to relate to him wasn’t just because Long Bisheng lacked social skills—after all, he was simply awkward, not antisocial—it was also due to his ascetic lifestyle, nearly monk-like in its discipline.

Never skipping class, never avoiding training, spending his free time either in the dorm or listening to folk songs on the hillside, not playing games, not watching movies, not wasting a moment—his conduct made his roommates feel, however faintly, that the better he behaved, the more their inadequacies were highlighted.

Everyone harbors jealousy, even children. Long Bisheng’s strict self-discipline set him apart, like oil and water: sharing a bowl but never blending.

The proverb goes, “The tallest tree in the forest is the first to be felled.” Though Long Bisheng wasn’t the most outstanding footballer at the school, his attitude toward training was unmatched, and his self-restraint in daily life exceeded that of his peers—this inevitably caused discomfort.

It was much like the hit TV drama “Soldier Assault” of later years. The protagonist, Xu Sanduo, persistently maintained his daily routine and duties in Squad Five, something unremarkable for a soldier, but in that particular environment, it alienated him from his comrades, who resisted and ridiculed him. It was darkly humorous, but true to life—such things happen every day.

Long Bisheng’s experience last semester proved this point.

Fortunately, children’s world lacks the same utilitarianism. Once Long Bisheng began to join his peers for movies and games, they quickly accepted him, and he truly became part of the group.

The drop of oil, diluted, now looked indistinguishable from the water...

PS: Secretly, the first volume is finished. The second volume will bring a dramatic twist. Brothers, stay tuned!