Chapter Twenty: Calamity from the Heavens

When evening fell, Tian Shiwei was curled up in bed playing his NDS when Rousseau returned from his extra training. Tian Shiwei gave Rousseau a summary statement: "Although today was a tough day, Old Lu, you did pretty well."

"How was it tough?" Rousseau asked as he undressed. "Because the coach gave you a hard time?"

After training, while Rousseau stayed for extra practice, Tian Shiwei had been singled out by the coach for a private chat. Rousseau guessed he'd been lectured—after all, Tian Shiwei always seemed to be the scapegoat.

"Getting chewed out by the coach is just business as usual, why would I care? I don't care at all," Tian Shiwei said with great pride, then looked at Rousseau with a gratified expression. "What I mean is, Old Lu, you finally started fitting in with the team. That's really good."

"I didn't agree to your request to quit the 4x100 relay, and that counts as fitting in?" Rousseau asked skeptically.

"That’s in the past, ha ha. Here, we listen to the coach—whatever he says, goes." Tian Shiwei put on an earnest and solemn face, pledging loyalty even though the coach wasn’t present. Clearly, the earlier scolding had left a deep impression.

"Mm, that’s good," Rousseau replied perfunctorily.

"Hey, Old Lu, it’s not like you can’t talk to people, so why did you ignore all your teammates before?" Tian Shiwei said. "Do you know how annoying your attitude was? That’s why they picked on you."

"Huh? You all picked on me...?" Rousseau thought about it. Other than the team not cooperating with him during 4x100 training, how else had they targeted him?

"Every time we eat, you sit at your own table and no one talks to you. When we’re doing leg massages, no one helps you out. And in class, when you’re asleep and the teacher comes in, no one wakes you up. Don’t you feel targeted?" Tian Shiwei said.

Ah... what a weak form of targeting. Rousseau couldn’t help but understand what the coach meant by "they’re all good kids." Compared to the malice he’d faced from the darker corners of society during those hard days surviving with Lu Xiaoyu, this was practically a gentle caress.

In answer to Tian Shiwei’s question, Rousseau said, "Why don’t they target you?"

"Me? Why would they target me? Unlike you, I’m not walking around with a scowl all day, ignoring everyone," Tian Shiwei replied, baffled.

"That’s not it. It’s because you have the best results, you’re the fastest, you’re the one who can carry them all to victory. So they treat you well. But that goodwill will eventually come to me, so I don’t need to put in any extra effort. What’s meant for me will come to me in time," Rousseau said.

What does that mean...? Tian Shiwei didn’t get it at first, but as he watched Rousseau leave to wash up, it finally clicked.

What Rousseau meant was, he’d eventually become the best in the team, and when that happened, the others would naturally trust him and treat him well, so there was no need to try too hard now. Infuriating!

I’m the number one!

Fuming, Tian Shiwei threw a couple of punches in the direction Rousseau had gone, and then didn’t speak to him for the rest of the night. That was probably the harshest punishment he could come up with—of course, to Rousseau, it was as good as nothing.

…

The next day.

Academic classes.

For Rousseau, if there was anything more nerve-wracking than 4x100 relay practice, it was definitely academic lessons—especially, but not limited to, advanced mathematics, Chinese, English, and so on.

The education system for athletes on the provincial team was a bit chaotic. They had inherited the curriculum of the Pengcheng Sports Academy, so there were many specialty courses, like sports physiology, sports psychology, and the fundamentals of physical education.

But many of the talented students recruited into the provincial team came straight from middle school; both coaches and parents wanted them to keep up with their academic studies alongside sports training, in case they needed to take the college entrance exam if athletics didn’t work out.

As a result, Rousseau’s academic workload was extremely heavy, with three mornings a week devoted to academic classes—a burden he could hardly bear.

As for the athletes on the provincial team—well, it wouldn’t be accurate to say they were simple-minded, but nature never creates perfection. When so much time was spent on physical training, there wasn’t much left for intellectual pursuits, and for most, academic lessons became nap time.

Especially today’s advanced mathematics class. Rousseau remembered he used to be quite smart as a child; his elementary school math teacher always praised him. But after attending advanced math, he realized what he’d learned as a child was called "arithmetic"; what he needed to learn now was "mathematics."

Listening to the lesson, Rousseau’s mind drifted. Sleepiness clouded his brain and dulled his spirit. Just as he was about to nod off, a paper ball whizzed over and struck his head, jolting him awake.

Who?

Turning his head, he saw Juno at her desk, winking and gesturing at the paper ball on the floor.

Yes, Juno was in the same class as Rousseau—the college prep class, where they studied high school subjects.

Rousseau glanced at the elderly teacher up front, then bent down to pick up the paper ball. Opening it, he saw an exquisitely drawn girl performing several moves—ones Rousseau had taught Juno before.

Not bad... quite the talent...

Rousseau understood Juno was asking if her movements were correct.

Some were right, others not.

Rousseau took up his pen and started marking the paper, putting checks or crosses next to each pose, and writing notes about things to pay attention to, like points of force. When he was done, he balled up the paper again, glanced up, and, seizing a moment when the teacher wasn't looking, tossed it back across the room.

Smack!

The paper ball hit Tian Shiwei in the face. He had been napping with his head on the desk, and he jumped up, shouting, "Huh? Is class over?"

Laughter erupted throughout the classroom.

The math teacher stood on the podium, looking baffled at this group of energetic teenagers, unsure what to do.

Just then—

Bang! The door was pushed open.

A few coaches from sprint and high jump stood in the doorway, casting fierce looks over the athletes. The roomful of lively students instantly fell silent, as if fate itself had gripped them by the throat.

"Seems you’re all having a good laugh," said Lu Jinrong, tone ambiguous as he walked in. He nodded at the math teacher, then addressed the athletes in the classroom:

"The coaches have discussed it. To help you better grasp academic knowledge and become well-rounded athletes, a new requirement has been set for this Provincial Games: anyone who fails the academic exams will not be included in the competition roster."

Ah...

The news struck most like a bolt from the blue. Many doubted their ears—especially Rousseau. Wasn’t this just a disaster out of nowhere!