The Weight of a New Day

Another new day dawned. Was there any difference between the me of today and the me of yesterday?

Brushing my teeth, washing my face, eating breakfast, changing clothes—my routine was an endless cycle, a life path utterly devoid of change as I walked to school.

Once more, I set off for school, laden with accumulated exhaustion and an ever-deepening sense of confusion.

My mind felt sluggish, my eyelids heavy with fatigue. I couldn’t help but question what truly drove life forward. Perhaps it would be easier to simply collapse here, to fall into an eternal slumber.

I was only joking, of course. Despite the overwhelming sleepiness, exhaustion, and aching body, school was a necessity.

If it came down to it, I could always snatch a quick nap during class. What lessons today wouldn’t matter if I missed them?

Oh, right. Physical education.

Perfect. I could finally get some proper sleep.

But it was the last class of the morning. I’d have to endure the first three lessons, which seemed highly unrealistic.

Moreover, after jogging four laps before free activity in PE, whether I’d still have the desire to sleep was an entirely different matter.

It seemed my only hope lay in the lunch break. I would simply have to power through the morning, then catch some sleep in the classroom during noon.

I knew it was improper to approach classes with such an expectation, yet this was how I had always functioned. No lesson ever truly captured my interest; it was always rote memorization or endless practice problems, utterly exhausting.

I could only distract myself with trivial thoughts, hoping to make the class time pass a little faster.

Eventually, I navigated through the throngs of students, passed the disciplinary committee’s inspection, and, having arrived late today, found myself jostling with others on the stairs for the first time in a while.

Finally, I reached my classroom.

I appeared to be the last one to arrive, drawing a few glances.

However, this brief attention quickly dissipated as everyone resumed their own activities.

No sooner had I settled into my seat than the teacher entered the classroom.

Recognizing the instructor, I instinctively knew which subject we were about to begin.

It’s a rather peculiar thing: our math teacher is a remarkably kind elderly woman. She is unmarried and has no children, though she is in her early forties.

The class often describes her as having a grandmotherly warmth. My own grandmother, however, has a fierce temper, so I struggle to grasp what they mean by ‘grandmotherly warmth’.

Yet, the moment I see her, an overwhelming drowsiness washes over me.

I couldn’t tell if it was her presence or the subject of mathematics itself.

The torment was unbearable. My eyes desperately wanted to open, yet refused, while my head throbbed relentlessly.

To be forced to listen to a lecture in this state was sheer agony. Why was I pushing myself to stay awake for this class, when my body screamed for sleep?

Why was I deliberately making things so difficult for myself?

Deep down, I knew. Even with my mind hovering on the precipice of sleep, I understood the reason I came to school on time every day.

It was a reason both profoundly ironic and utterly sacred.

“Master, you look incredibly sleepy today,” Gao Qinghong, my desk mate, remarked, his words momentarily lifting the fog of drowsiness.

“It’s a long story,” I replied.

“Well, tell me then!” he urged, leaning in expectantly.

“Hmm…” My brain refused to cooperate, primarily because it couldn’t. The mere act of thinking intensified my headache.

I resorted to a concise summary. “Yu Tianman kept me up all night, so I didn’t get much sleep.”

“Yu Tianman kept you up all night?” he repeated, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and admiration. “Yu Tianman kept you up all night.”

He said it again.

“Truly, Master is Master,” he mumbled, scratching his head sheepishly. “So, um… do you two often…?”

“Hm?” I mused, considering whether to splash some water on my face in the restroom. “Last night was our first time.”

“Your first time, and you pulled an all-nighter…?” His shock transformed into astonishment, his admiration into awe. “You two are truly incredible.

I never would have imagined Yu Tianman, who appears so innocent normally, would be like this in front of Master Yi Chang. Women, huh… I’m learning so much, so much.”

I had no idea what he was marveling at, but I suspected he had entirely misunderstood. My explanation hadn’t been clear enough.

With my head swimming, barely aware of my own identity, I still felt compelled to clarify.

“It wasn’t just Yu Tianman,” I managed, prying my face from the desk with effort. “It was mainly because of Dorothy. I spent the entire night telling her she should go to sleep…”

“Two of them together?!” Gao Qinghong seemed to have misinterpreted something again, and his intense disbelief was palpable. “While I’m still making no progress, hesitating at every turn, you’ve already… reached this level?

The two greatest beauties of our year, serving one man?”

He took a deep, shaky breath. “You truly are the Master.”

“What do you mean, ‘serving one man’? It was just the club…”

“Who’s chatting so enthusiastically during the first class?” Our math teacher adjusted her glasses, peering from the podium towards the back row. “Oh, it’s our dear Qinghong, and…”

A hint of surprise entered her voice. “And our dear Yi Chang. This is the first time I’ve ever seen you distracted in class. Well, I won’t punish you then.”

Her gaze shifted to Gao Qinghong.

“Come on, Qinghong,” she urged, her chalk scribbling rapidly across the blackboard. “What formula is this? Explain it to everyone.”

“Uh…” He shot me a pleading look, but I was useless; I couldn’t even make out what was written on the blackboard. “Trigonometric functions?”

Poor Gao Qinghong had given up entirely.

“That’s the cosine formula, you silly boy. Trigonometric functions were ages ago,” she sighed. “You only scored thirty-nine on the last quiz, and you’re still not paying attention.

Qinghong dear, come to my office after school at noon.”

While I felt a pang of pity for Gao Qinghong, he wasn’t entirely blameless. As an athletic recruit, his poor grades were somewhat understandable, but a score of thirty-nine was certainly enough to exasperate any teacher.

Called out, Gao Qinghong slumped into his seat as if deflated, an expression of utter despair on his face.

At that very moment, Huang Zhouyu and a few other mischievous friends were openly reveling in his misfortune.

“While there’s still plenty of time, my dear little ones, you must study hard,” the teacher lectured, writing problems on the blackboard. “You always feel like school teaches too much, that you can’t keep up or absorb it all.

But after you graduate and step into society, there will be even more to learn. If you don’t actively learn now, life will force you to learn later.

You’ll have to learn one way or another, so why not do it properly now, during your happiest school days?”

“Endure a little hardship and work hard now, my little darlings, and your future days will be much easier.”

We gradually came to understand those adults who reminisced about their school days. What we craved was not boundless freedom; rather, it was the comfort of being bound by shackles.

Everything was arranged, the choices we could make were few, and there was no need to choose for ourselves or ponder the deeper meaning of things.

What we truly loved was this—the path meticulously planned by the collective. It provided both the goals and the reasons for our efforts.

All we had to do was foolishly believe in it and follow it without question. This afforded us an immense sense of ease.

****

Finally, PE class arrived. Fortunately, due to the bright sun today, we had our lesson in the indoor basketball court.

Though we called it a basketball court, it also featured areas for badminton and volleyball.

The outdoor-oriented students and smaller groups were already engaged in games, while the more indoor-inclined or quieter students sat on the ground or on benches, chatting with friends or simply observing.

As for me, I was in the equipment room, lying on a foam mat.

Despite the faint scent of organic compounds in the air, these mats were incredibly comfortable, perfect for sleeping.

The varied sounds and shouts from the courts outside reached me, yet they couldn’t penetrate my profound drowsiness.

The weariness and fatigue I had suppressed for so long now demanded release; at this moment, no one could stop me.

The instant I stretched out and closed my eyes, the clatter and bangs from beyond became a soothing lullaby, guiding me into slumber.

I slept until the class ended.

When the teacher found me, he was visibly displeased. Perhaps he thought I had skipped class or gone missing.

In any case, he was angry. However, he didn’t have the disciplinary committee deduct points from me; instead, he simply told me to get more rest.

This sparked a pang of guilt within me. Fortunately, he assigned me the task of tidying up the basketball court, which somewhat assuaged my conscience.

Tidying the basketball court mainly involved returning the scattered balls to the equipment room.

It was also my responsibility to dispose of the empty bottles left on the benches from the vending machine.

These tasks didn’t take much time at all; I finished quickly.

The teacher mentioned someone else would be using the court, so the door didn’t need to be locked. Thanks to them, I could snatch another nap on the foam mats in the equipment room.

I had only been lying down for a few minutes when I heard rustling footsteps from the court.

Presumably, the people the teacher mentioned had arrived. I was about to get up, but I missed my chance.

I saw several girls pushing out the basketball hoops, and fearing I might startle them, I remained still.

Soon, they began their practice on the court. The sounds suggested an intense session, not just a casual game.

“Move it, move it, move it! The inter-school competition is the day after tomorrow, so give it your all!” a mature voice bellowed.

Her shouts were surprisingly close. I cautiously poked my head out and, sure enough, saw her.

She was wearing a coach’s tracksuit, seated on a bench just outside the equipment room, overseeing the female players training on the court.

I felt a little awkward about emerging. In truth, I saw no need to; they could play their game, and I could get my sleep, without disturbing each other.

In my current state, I could fall asleep anywhere.

But I had only just drifted off.

“Ruolan, I wanted to talk to you today about that old matter,” the coach said, uttering a familiar name. I sat up, peering out to confirm if it was Mei Ruolan, the person I knew.

Her tall, shapely figure, neat high ponytail, and sharp, almond-shaped eyes left no doubt.

It was indeed Mei Ruolan, the one I knew.

“Look, our girls’ basketball team right now has third-years preparing for exams, and we didn’t recruit many during the second year. The new recruits are just starting to train,” the coach explained earnestly.

“Our school’s girls’ team hasn’t achieved much in the past two years. You’ve been here as a practice partner for so long, you must know the situation perfectly well, so I won’t beat around the bush.”

The coach took a sip of water from her thermos.

“I’ve seen your records; you played on the school team in middle school, and your performance was excellent. With your height, you’re naturally a great prospect for basketball.”

“It would be a terrible waste not to train more.”

I could pretty much guess what the coach was about to say.

“Why don’t you just join our girls’ basketball team?” she proposed, uttering the words I had anticipated. “You usually get along well with Yanling and the others.”

“And your senior, Nana, always looks out for you on the disciplinary committee, doesn’t she? You’d definitely integrate quickly into one team,” she coaxed persuasively.

“Besides, your grades are already good, and if you win awards in major competitions, you’ll have even more options for higher education, won’t you? It’s all benefit, no harm,” she continued, trying to sway Mei Ruolan. “So, what do you say? Will you officially join the girls’ basketball team?”

Mei Ruolan remained silent, not uttering a single word, as if weighing the pros and cons.

Yet, to me, it didn’t seem that way. She merely looked distressed, a wry smile on her face, hoping to convey her dilemma and implore the coach to give up.

But the coach didn’t understand. She believed her offer was exceptionally generous and that Mei Ruolan was simply deliberating, not refusing.

‘Thank you for your kind offer, but I have other things I want to do besides basketball.’ These words remained unspoken.

She turned her gaze to the other players training on the court. They were all anticipating her joining, some of them her close friends.

If Mei Ruolan became their teammate, not only would the team’s strength increase, but they would also spend more time together.

The coach, too, was full of anticipation. If the team performed well, she would also receive a promotion, allowing her to add another impressive line to her resume for future jobs.

But I didn’t concern myself with those overly complex, societal issues. My thoughts were solely on you, Mei Ruolan.

What were your intentions at this very moment? Not a single person on the court truly cared about your thoughts.

The coach appeared to be soliciting your opinion, but in reality, she didn’t care whether you were willing or not. She would only offer more enticing conditions and provide more reasons to join if you expressed reluctance, until you wavered.

And indeed, you were wavering. The moment you met someone else’s gaze, you instinctively transformed into the person they expected you to be.

This wasn’t a unique trait of yours; it was a fundamental rule of society.

“Um, Coach…” she began hesitantly. “I…”

Conforming to these rules, walking the path others have laid out, would indeed make our lives easier.

But alas, Mei Ruolan.

For us, this society was too vast a room, too beautiful a dress, too long a journey, too pungent a perfume, too complex a thought.

Being forced to decide between only two paths was not truly choosing. And this world, it offered tens of thousands of roads, stretching endlessly beyond sight.

So, Mei Ruolan.

“Huh?” She stared at me blankly. “Yi Chang, what are you doing here?”

“There’s nothing wrong with not choosing, with not moving forward,” I told her.