Chapter 45: A Belated Invitation

"Congratulations, Chen Fan, you have successfully been accepted by the Discipline Inspection Department. We hereby officially invite you to join us. If you are interested, please reply before 11 p.m. tonight. Thank you."

“At last, they didn’t get my name wrong,” Chen Fan remarked with a faint smile. He had nearly given up on the student council, yet now, just as he was about to let go, opportunity came knocking again. Should he go, or not?

“Huige, which department did you finally settle on?” Chen Fan turned to Xu Changhui. The tissues beside the computer had long been pushed behind the bookshelf, and both hands rested on the keyboard.

“Probably the Youth Society. Guangyi and I both plan to join—more chances for social practice and volunteer work, and it’ll look good on our résumés later,” Xu Changhui replied, sipping from his mug, legs sprawled comfortably across the chair.

Chen Fan glanced toward the other side. Ever since Wei Youlong stormed out late last night, a corner of the dormitory had been vacant. If the school didn’t plan to assign another student to their room, Chen Fan wouldn’t mind claiming that empty desk as his own personal storage space.

“Guangyi still hasn’t come back? It’s so late, he should’ve finished dinner by now.”

Chen Fan noticed that Lai Guangyi’s spot was empty too. Only a desk lamp illuminated that corner; the overhead light was off, making the whole room feel oddly cold and deserted.

Xu Changhui glanced at the vacant seat and said lightly, “Oh, him? Yesterday he found a part-time job outside school, delivering dinners and late-night snacks. A buck per delivery, plus meals included.”

“Not bad. I wonder how the university market is. I’ve heard students sometimes substitute teach by day and work jobs by night—covering tuition and living costs themselves. But with such a big campus, running around must be tough. Hard-earned money, for sure.”

Chen Fan checked his phone calendar and realized tomorrow was the last day of military training. A surge of delight bubbled up—finally, he could escape the daily ordeal of waking early and baking under the sun. Yet, there was a trace of reluctance too; the instructor was actually a decent guy, though he liked to call himself a ‘fat corpse’ and had a fondness for making them run laps.

Sometimes, Chen Fan wondered if he was a secret masochist—finding pleasure in pain.

Take tonight’s awakening of the Roaring Bear, for example. Chen Fan hadn’t expected such a twist. If he could master all the secrets of the cards, perhaps he’d even try some reckless moves, activating every hidden attribute just for fun.

“Riding an e-bike for deliveries, huh? That’s a kilometer or two each trip. Must take quite a bit of time,” Xu Changhui’s comment pulled Chen Fan from his thoughts. Chen Fan replied with a simple “oh,” then drifted back into contemplation.

Wei Youlong’s case wasn’t settled yet. If the guy insisted on teaching him a lesson—he had already sent two lackeys packing—next time could bring a truckload of musclemen. Chen Fan had no clue what was brewing on the other side. A pit of unease gnawed at him, worried he might be dragged off in the dead of night.

Xu Changhui slapped his thigh and sighed, “Hey, Long’s gone, Guangyi’s out late, and if you start having your own nightlife in a few days, I’ll be all alone here every night. Kind of lonely, isn’t it?”

“Shouldn’t you be glad to have the dorm all to yourself? Lock the door at night, lights off, headphones on, following the rhythm of moans, your calloused hands moving in sync—that’s the true confession of Xu the Driver, isn’t it?”

A sudden thought struck Chen Fan, a bad premonition. Maybe the guy was bored of pretty girls and thinking about trying something more shameful and heavy?

The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt. Chen Fan let out a cold laugh, deftly sidestepping the topic. “So Long left, big deal. Didn’t you hear him calling us country bumpkins? Living together with someone like that, a murder is bound to happen eventually. Poisoning, late-night dismemberment—all roommate affairs, right?”

Xu Changhui shuddered, curling up in his chair. “Are roommates really that scary? My high school dorm was fine. Maybe you city folks just don’t have your talents assigned properly. Probably just a misunderstanding…”

“City people are indeed different. We don’t like to settle things with fists. We’re civilized, polite, and reasoned. Of course, fists are the ultimate form of reason.”

Chen Fan mused on how complicated society had become. For the first eighteen years of his life, he’d been a good kid. Barely half a month into university, and so much had happened—fights, brawls, chaos. His model student certificates felt stained with blood.

But in front of his two honest, simple roommates, Chen Fan was like a gang boss—especially after veteran city dweller Wei Youlong left in the night, leaving Chen Fan to become the guiding beacon for his fellow dorm-mates.

“I’m back.” Lai Guangyi pushed open the door, drenched in sweat, the breeze drifting straight toward Chen Fan. Once Guangyi settled at his desk, Chen Fan opened the door to let in the night air.

“How was the haul tonight? How many bricks did you move?” Chen Fan asked curiously.

Lai Guangyi pulled a few tissues from the top shelf, wiped his sweaty brow, and replied, “About twenty deliveries. Dinner before work, late-night snacks after. The only thing is, it takes a long time—almost three hours tonight.”

Chen Fan made a quick calculation. With the meal bonuses, the hourly wage was about nine to twelve yuan—just a so-so physical job.

“Here, this is it. Pretty ample portions, but I wonder if it gets old after a while. The place only sells spicy hotpot,” Lai Guangyi said, lifting a white plastic bag and waving it in front of them.

Chen Fan laughed and suggested, “If you get tired of it, switch part-time jobs. When spicy hotpot gets old, try fried chicken; when fried chicken gets old, try barbecue; when barbecue gets old, go for fruit salad. That way, your diet stays balanced.”

Lai Guangyi shrugged, settling slowly into his chair. “Whichever pays better, that’s the one I’ll take. I don’t care what I eat—instant noodles, I’ve had plenty.”

Xu Changhui suddenly turned around. “Hey, didn’t our squad say everyone should come up with a name? What did you pick?”

“Let’s just call it ‘Cross-Bridge Spicy Hotpot’—a bit of free advertising. More orders, more earnings for me,” Lai Guangyi replied, breaking apart his bamboo chopsticks and picking out the cilantro from the soup.

Xu Changhui clapped and agreed, “Sure, I don’t have any ideas anyway. I’ll go with ‘Spicy Hotpot Cross-Bridge’. I’ll campaign for you, try to get the naming rights.”

Chen Fan listened, bewildered. “Why does this sound like bidding for sponsorship? Weren’t we supposed to use Squad One, Two, Three, Four, and Five as names? I haven’t gotten any notice.”

A swipe of his finger, and an unknown message popped up. Chen Fan focused—there it was.

“These leaders really love to stir things up. Something new every day. What should we call military boxing, ‘Fungal Boxing’? Or ‘Bump-and-Crash Boxing’?” Chen Fan searched for information, looking for a more elegant name for military boxing.

The dense little words made his head ache. Every idea seemed pretty good. Chen Fan flicked his mouse aside, not bothering to think further. He’d just say whatever came to mind when the time came; worst case, he’d just have to run a few laps.

“Why not call it ‘Fat Corpse Squad’? Noble and elegant.”

PS: Took the noon train from Wuhan back to Guangzhou; in a couple of days, I’ll pack and head to school. Two chapters today; the second will be posted after midnight.