SBAB Chapter 29

On Tuesday, Lin Xin stayed in his dorm all afternoon writing a reflection and didn’t go anywhere. He didn’t tell Cheng Shiyin why he suddenly had to write it, but when Cheng Shiyin saw Lin Xin’s latest post on social media that simply read, “Gu Nian is a scumbag!”, she could piece most of it together.

The next morning, the vice principal carefully reviewed Lin Xin’s four-page handwritten reflection from start to finish. Nodding in approval, he said, “Hmm, very good. Your attitude seems sincere.” He then instructed Lin Xin to return to his class for morning reading while he joined Instructor Zhang to inspect the morning study sessions across all classes.

Although the vice principal didn’t mention Lin Xin by name, he emphasized during each classroom visit the importance of the student council and reminded everyone that its members work on a volunteer basis. He insisted that if anyone had concerns or dissatisfaction with school rules or activities, they should file feedback through the academic system instead of blaming the innocent student council—especially the highly respected president, Gu Nian, who was adored by the entire faculty.

The students, catching the subtle insinuations, silently cursed the troublemaker who got caught by the vice principal. This individual had ruined everyone’s morning by delaying breakfast, which now sat cold in desk drawers while the vice principal lingered. The porridge had gone cold!

At that moment, no one paid attention to the banner in front of the teaching building that read, “Delightful meals in the cafeteria, enriching studies in the classroom.” Nor did they realize the sole reason the vice principal was checking the freshmen’s morning reading sessions was Lin Xin.

As if cursed, Lin Xin’s bad luck continued to spiral that day.

Despite avoiding eye contact with teachers, he was called upon in every class to answer questions he couldn’t answer. If he was just one or two minutes late, he’d be marked absent during attendance checks.

By the end of the day, Lin Xin had lost enough attendance points to require 16 hours of community service to make up for it. Without this, his moral and ethical evaluation at the year-end review would be marked with a glaring X, disqualifying him from any awards—though, with his usual grades, he wasn’t likely to make it past the nomination round anyway.

It wasn’t until Friday morning that Lin Xin felt like the curse had lifted a little—only for a bigger disaster to strike. At the end of PE class, the teacher announced that Lin Xin had been chosen as the class’s lead performer for the upcoming Radio Calisthenics Competition.

Those not involved clapped enthusiastically, none louder than the class rep, nicknamed “The Giant,” a nearly two-meter-tall student relieved to have dodged the role. His vigorous applause was so loud it nearly deafened Lin Xin.

Lin Xin was, of course, unwilling. After the embarrassment of his clumsy ballet performance during the school festival, he’d fully embraced the importance of the word “no” in his life.

To make himself noticed by the teacher, who had already walked several steps away, Lin Xin performed a near-perfect pre-routine pose, raising his right arm high in the air like an Olympic gymnast, standing on tiptoes to add an extra 20 centimeters to his height. He shouted, “Teacher! I refuse!”

Without turning around, the teacher replied, “I didn’t choose you.”

Wait, what?

Lin Xin instantly realized what the teacher meant. Dejected, he dragged his exhausted body back to the dorm. Passing by the cafeteria, even his grumbling stomach couldn’t compel him to stop. He convinced himself it was a good excuse to lose weight.

If the vice principal wanted him to deeply appreciate the “charm” of the seemingly nonsensical Radio Calisthenics Competition, Lin Xin had no way to refuse.

From that day on, Lin Xin and all the other freshmen were subjected to endless practice sessions under the watchful eyes of the student council.

There was an infamous rumor at the university.

Aside from Wu Lian, the son of the school’s board chairman, every graduate firmly believed it:
“The university’s founder had a lifelong dream of gymnastics.”

“Haha, what kind of nonsense is that?” Cheng Shiyin laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone. Had she not been using headphones for the call with Lin Xin, she might have accidentally thrown her phone into her roommate’s face.

Lin Xin had been complaining about his forced role as the lead performer, describing how he was stuck practicing until 10:30 p.m. every night. He even got to skip two hours of evening self-study because of it, but the physical toll left him exhausted, with trembling legs and no weekends off.

As she listened, Cheng Shiyin could picture Lin Xin’s pitiful, miserable expression. Suddenly, Lin Xin lowered his voice, as if preparing to share some top-secret information.

Sensing the shift, Cheng Shiyin dove under her blanket, ensuring no one else could overhear. But what she didn’t expect was for Lin Xin to confidently blurt out something absurd.

“It’s true! I’m not lying!” Lin Xin insisted after hearing Cheng Shiyin’s uncontrollable laughter. “Think about it—what kind of school cancels evening self-study just to make everyone do radio calisthenics? Even military training ends earlier than this. You tell me—does this make any sense?”

Cheng Shiyin laughed harder but then recalled what Shang Xiaoxia had mentioned about Wu Lian being the chairman’s son. Curious, she asked, “Did you ask Wu Lian why this competition is so important?”

“I did, but he wouldn’t tell me,” Lin Xin replied before adding slyly, “But he told Shang Xiaoxia.”

“What’s the reason?” Cheng Shiyin pressed.

Lin Xin replied, “He said he’s not entirely sure. It’s just an unchanging tradition since the school’s founding, decided unanimously by the board of directors long ago. No one has the authority to cancel it.”

As soon as Lin Xin finished speaking, Cheng Shiyin heard Ying Lun’s irritated voice in the background: “Lin Xin! We’re assembling! What are you chatting about? Everyone’s waiting for you!”

“Coming! Just a second!” Lin Xin yelled back, then turned to his phone and spoke softly to Cheng Shiyin, “The student council is calling me for exercises. Gotta go. Let’s talk tonight. Bye-bye!”

“Okay, bye-bye.” Cheng Shiyin ended the call, her thoughts lingering on Lin Xin’s mention of the student council. If Ying Lun, the publicity minister, was there, it was almost certain that Gu Nian, the student council president, was present as well.

That’s when Cheng Shiyin suddenly remembered that her phone still held all of Gu Nian’s contact information. Having spent the past few days with Lin Xin, she had completely forgotten to block Gu Nian immediately. She no longer wanted any connection with him. Deleting his contacts would ensure she wouldn’t be bothered again.

Without hesitation, Cheng Shiyin grabbed her phone and began removing Gu Nian’s accounts from all her social media apps.

To her surprise, Gu Nian had already blocked her first, making it impossible for her to find any trace of him. Muttering to herself, Cheng Shiyin said, “Didn’t think indifference could count as one of Gu Nian’s redeeming qualities.” At least she wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore.

Meanwhile, Lin Xin, who was being punished by Ying Lun with detailed exercise drills, had also noticed the change.

Since their day at the water park, Gu Nian had either ignored Lin Xin during necessary student council meetings or pretended not to recognize him when they crossed paths. Their relationship had reverted to a purely formal dynamic of superior and subordinate—or distant senior and junior peers.

Gu Nian’s attitude reassured Lin Xin. At least Gu Nian wasn’t petty like Ying Lun. Lin Xin no longer had to worry about revenge, especially since the vice principal had already avenged him in a way.

Ying Lun, however, was a different story. Lin Xin still felt targeted by him, likely because of the incident where Lin Xin failed to bring him his pants.

“Keep your hands straight! Maintain a 90-degree angle with your body!” Ying Lun barked at Lin Xin, snapping him out of his daydream. Lin Xin quickly adjusted his posture but pursed his lips in defiance. Fortunately, it was already 10 p.m., and Ying Lun couldn’t see Lin Xin’s expression. Otherwise, it would’ve triggered another lecture about attitude.

After enduring another half hour, Lin Xin was finally free from Ying Lun’s supervision. He strolled back to the dorm, threw open the door, and dramatically announced, “I, Hu Han San, am back!”

The moment he entered, everyone covered their noses with their sleeves before awkwardly responding, “Welcome back, welcome back.”

Seeing their reactions, Lin Xin sniffed the air and immediately caught the overwhelming smell of cumin. Realizing it was coming from him, he quickly covered his nose with his sleeve—only to make it worse and nearly gag.

It didn’t take long for Lin Xin to figure out the source of the stench. Grabbing his toiletries, he rushed to the women’s bathhouse.

Don’t worry—the women’s bathhouse was perfectly safe for Lin Xin. For an extra dollar, he could rent a private room. No one could see him, and he couldn’t see anyone else. Completely secure and discreet. The only downside was that there was no one to help scrub his back, leaving Lin Xin to figure out a solution himself.

After enjoying a long shower, Lin Xin stepped onto the bathroom scale out of habit. Then… he shook his head, walked to the blow-drying area, grabbed an available dryer, and muttered, “It’s gotta be the water weight from my hair. With this much hair, the water must weigh ten pounds at least.”

Once his hair was completely dry, he stepped back onto the scale. This time, without hesitation, he went to the front desk to rent another private room.

Half an hour later, thoroughly scrubbed and with skin glowing red from all the washing, Lin Xin returned to the scale for a third time. At last, with no dirt left to blame, he accepted the reality: It was time to lose weight.

Dieting and exercise—neither could be skipped.

Since his last weigh-in after a shower, Lin Xin had gained a full 15 pounds.