Tomorrow is the Mid-Autumn Festival, and South Real High School is giving a three-day break to grades one and two, while the senior year students, the unfortunate ones, only get a single day off. This seems reasonable; after all, no vacation in the world matches up with the senior year.
As the Mid-Autumn Festival approaches, Principal Qiao Chunmu, after a quick pat on his shiny head, decided to organize a last-minute large-scale cleanup. He called the grade one principal, Gao Qinggan, directly, demanding that all first-year students participate.
Gao Qinggan was just about to slip away when the principal’s call pinned him down to the task. He took the division of labor from previous years’ cleanups and forwarded it to the class teacher group, along with a lottery mini-program, instructing them to draw lots and assign themselves.
Gao Qinggan is quite modern in this regard; even his peers like Zhang Wei struggle with PPTs, but he picks up new things with remarkable speed.
The cleanup was scheduled for the first class of the afternoon, and Zhang Wei was in a rush. Gao Qinggan had already urged him to hurry down, as they had rented a car in the morning to enjoy the three-day break. Cleaning, such a trivial task, was something he didn’t have the time to oversee.
After telling the class monitor, Liu Tanxiong, which area the third class was responsible for, he left, leaving Liu in full charge of the cleanup.
Liu Tanxiong’s spirits were also worn thin. He didn’t want to be in charge, but with a sullen face, he dragged the organization committee member, Deng Lanying, over. She had a fierce temper and loved to put on an act, so at least the class would listen to her.
Anyone who has been to high school has a basic impression of such activities as cleanups. When the school needs students, it becomes every student’s home; when it doesn’t, it becomes ‘Do you think the school is your home?’
The cleanup is a product of this mindset, but as long as the school leaders aren’t too demanding, they won’t expect much from the cleanup. Often, it’s just about making the visible trash a bit cleaner, and as long as the students pretend to clean when the leaders are around, that’s enough.
It’s like letting the students have free time inside the school.
For most students, a cleanup and free activity are one and the same: outdoor activities, akin to a school picnic with cleaning tools.
As for the final inspection, the teachers at South Real High tend to look the other way. The standard for the cleanup there is so low that as long as the students don’t add more trash, it’s considered done. Usually, the students clean first, and then the school workers go over it again.
Still, Liu Tanxiong was worried. He had a soft nature and was easily swayed, always feeling that directly assigning tasks might cause discomfort among classmates.
For instance, why should someone only need to wipe a blackboard, while another has to mop the floor? Or, why should someone want to work with someone else, while another doesn’t? If everyone’s demands can’t be met, the situation will quickly become chaotic.
But Deng Lanying was different. When she assigned tasks, she almost poked people in the nose.
Eventually, they reached a compromise, deciding to use a mystical method to solve the problem.
Liu Tanxiong divided the tasks into six groups, each with a different number of people based on the intensity of the work. Everyone drew lots, and whoever drew which group went to that group. Deng Lanying had already agreed with the class beforehand that once the groups were set, there would be no objections.
After the groups were confirmed, the specific cleaning tasks were further divided within each group. Liu Tanxiong didn’t dare to manage too much, fearing he might upset people.
Qin Zixin was grouped with Zhou Dahong and Li Jinjin, mainly responsible for the second and third floors of the senior year building.
Zhou Dahong was thrilled. In the dormitory, he hadn’t missed many opportunities to ‘chat up’ Qin Zixin, and Li Jinjin wasn’t bad-looking either, except for rumors of her being a bit wild. Judging by her appearance, she was a quiet, pretty girl, scoring around a seven out of ten.
When Zhou Dahong drew the lot to work with Qin Zixin, Qiao Hua’s eyes nearly turned green with envy. Two weeks into the semester, Qiao Hua hadn’t managed to have a proper conversation with Qin Zixin, even though she sat right in front of him.
Even Zhou Dahong, who sat farther from Qin Zixin, had managed to chat with her a few times under the pretext of getting water. It could be said that in the dormitory, only Qiao Hua had the misfortune of not even getting a chance to talk to the school’s beauty.
Sometimes, Qiao Hua wondered if his nervousness around Qin Zixin was a psychological issue. He had even tried ‘preparing’ himself by going to the bathroom before class, but he still stuttered when he came back.
Zhou Dahong happily went to find Li Jinjin and Qin Zixin, who had already gathered the necessary cleaning tools: brooms, dustpans, mops, rags, and buckets. Zhou grabbed the mop first.
There’s an old saying, ‘Men and women working together, the work is never tedious,’ especially when there’s a beautiful woman to work with. Qin Zixin took on the task of wiping the railing, while Li Jinjin volunteered to sweep the floor.
Qin Zixin wasn’t very familiar with the two. Two weeks into the semester, they could barely recognize each other’s names, but they hadn’t had any negative encounters.
The three chatted as they walked, and Qin Zixin, known for her approachable nature, quickly put everyone at ease. They laughed and joked, creating a harmonious atmosphere.
………………
Now, Qiao Hua felt terrible.
He had also drawn a group with two girls, but his experience was vastly different from Zhou Dahong’s.
His group was responsible for cleaning a part of the tree-lined path, which should have been a light task, but not in autumn.
South Real High was built too early, and the tree-lined path wasn’t made with evergreens. During leaf-falling season, the ground was always messy.
Later, the school leaders wanted to change it, but these were trees that had been there for decades, having seen several generations of teachers leave. When the current leaders suggested cutting them down, many retired teachers protested, pointing at the principal’s nose and cursing. The principal dared not upset these old employees, and the tree-cutting plan was eventually abandoned.
It was now mid-September, and the dry yellow leaves, along with some small, wilted fruits, were scattered everywhere. When someone stepped on these ripe fruits, they would burst, releasing a sour, unpleasant odor. The juice mixed with the leaves, forming thick clumps that were hard to remove, even without a shovel.
Leaves sticking to the ground made cleaning difficult, but if three people were willing to work, it would take at most half an hour to finish.
Unfortunately, the two girls in Qiao Hua’s group had personal issues. When both personal and practical problems exist, it becomes a real challenge.
The two girls, Tan Peiyue and Chu Keke, were desk mates.
Tan Peiyue had dark, rough skin, a flat nose, thick lips, a short body, and almost no neck. Chu Keke, on the other hand, was extremely thin, with pale, almost greenish skin, a horse face, and difficult-to-describe features, as if drawn with harsh lines. She also had many freckles on her face.
Politely put, their appearance was ‘plain’; less kindly, it was quite harsh.
During the summer vacation, they were privately called the ‘two gold flowers’ of the class by the boys, due to their unattractive looks. They even earned the nickname ‘door gods’ for their less-than-appealing appearance.
In class, they would chat about a Korean boy band called EXO whenever they had free time. They talked about people like Lay, Kai, and Suho, and the boy sitting behind them, Zhou Dahong, wanted to die listening to them. Sometimes, they would even scream, and Qiao Hua, sitting at the back, could hear their shrill voices.
According to the biggest victim, Zhou Dahong, if these two were really ghosts, it would be better for everyone. At least ghosts wear veils that cover everything but their eyes, making them look less ugly.
Zhou Dahong often complained in the dormitory about the torturous experience of sitting behind them.
Zhou Dahong felt particularly miserable, with a weird guy as his desk mate and two ugly girls in front of him.
Chen Wenxiu, a big guy with long nails, would often look at himself in a small round mirror, and if Zhou Dahong accidentally annoyed him, he would scratch Zhou with his long, sharp nails. Zhou still had red scratches on his arms.
In front of him were two girls who were always gossiping about the Korean band, and Tan Peiyue had stomach problems, often farting after eating eggs, which Zhou could smell from a distance, making him dizzy.
His seat was cursed, and as soon as class ended, Zhou would rush to the bathroom to avoid hearing the girls’ gossip and seeing Chen Wenxiu preening in the mirror.
At night, in the dormitory, when Zhou Dahong recounted his tragic experiences, Qiao Hua laughed the hardest. After Zhou finished his ‘horror story,’ Qiao Hua would start his ‘love story,’ and Fang Bixian wouldn’t expose the fact that Qiao Hua couldn’t even talk to Qin Zixin.
Usually, in the dormitory, Qiao Hua would listen to Zhou Dahong’s troubles as entertainment, but now it was his turn to be the joke.
When Zhou Dahong saw Qiao Hua’s group members, he almost burst out laughing.
Qiao Hua was useless, unable to get Tan Peiyue and Chu Keke to do anything, let alone cooperate with him.
He called them for a long time, and the two ‘door gods’ finally moved, albeit reluctantly. With a gentlemanly attitude, they demanded that Qiao Hua carry all the cleaning tools, so they could have their hands free. They slowly made their way downstairs, and Tan and Chu told Qiao Hua they were going to buy water, leaving him to carry the brooms and dustpans.
Qiao Hua wanted to curse at them. He had been carrying the cleaning tools all along, and these two had the nerve to take a break. He knew they would buy water, drink it, and take at least twenty minutes before returning, probably doing nothing useful.
This meant that the work of three people would fall on Qiao Hua alone.