The Game of Life

By the time Jiang Feng finished the major questions on six exam papers, it was past lunchtime.

When he looked up, he felt like the day had brightened.

Turning his head, Jiang Feng noticed Wang Hao had already fallen into deep slumber, face down on his book, presumably having gone to sleep accompanied by knowledge.

According to biological principles, the knowledge from high-concentration knowledge books would flow toward Wang Hao’s brain, which contained a lower concentration of knowledge. Round it up, and it’d appear that Wang Hao was sleeping, but in actuality, he might be learning physics with Dream.

“Hao, wake up, I’m done,” Jiang Feng violently shook Wang Hao awake.

Wang Hao woke up abruptly, his memory still at the moment before his face hit the book, murmuring, “Liquid crystal is a substance that appears liquid and flows at a certain temperature range while simultaneously exhibiting the optical properties of birefringent crystals.”

Jiang Feng: ???

“Digital Light Processing DLP technology is utilized… utilized…” Wang Hao wiped some drool away and slowly regained his senses, realizing he still couldn’t remember.

“It uses all-digital technology to process images,” Jiang Feng said helplessly, then felt something was amiss. He picked up the book that had been Wang Hao’s pillow under his face.

Sure enough, Wang Hao had failed more than just one class last year.

“How could you have failed this one? Isn’t this course all about concepts with hardly anything to calculate?” Jiang Feng questioned.

Wang Hao’s face was crestfallen, giving Jiang Feng a look that pleaded, why don’t you eat the delicacy: “Feng, you didn’t memorize the key points Dean Huang outlined?”

“You actually memorized the points outlined by Dean Huang? Isn’t he infamous for the key points being only relevant to retests every year?” Jiang Feng expressed his confusion, thinking that Wang Hao had gone to memorize the key points Dean Huang had marked.

Wang Hao’s face was filled with sorrow, a past too painful to recall: “I thought… there would be some overlap between his final exam and the retest paper, and since there wasn’t enough time to memorize the whole book, I just memorized the key points he outlined.”

The result was clearly self-evident.

Jiang Feng remembered having such naive thoughts in his freshman year, but he was lucky then and barely passed with his regular grades included. With that thought, he empathetically patted Wang Hao on the shoulder to comfort him: “No worries, at least you’ll pass the makeup test this time.”

“I’ve already forgotten what I memorized for the finals.”

Jiang Feng: …

Hopeless, wait for death, retake the class, postpone graduation.

Yet, within a few minutes, Wang Hao had forgotten the sorrow his retest brought him and was lively and well once more, starting to plan where to eat.

“Feng, it’s 3 PM, let’s go have afternoon tea,” Wang Hao suggested, having slept for several hours and now feeling hungry.

Jiang Feng was of the same mind: “Food street?”

Wang Hao nodded, the two exchanged a glance, sharing an unspoken understanding, the rapport between roommates evident at this moment.

“Fang’s Porridge Shop!”

“Beef noodles!”

Jiang Feng & Wang Hao: ???

“Feng, what kind of noodles do you eat for afternoon tea? You’re supposed to drink porridge!” Wang Hao said in disbelief.

“I haven’t eaten all day, how could I possibly go for porridge, I definitely need noodles!” Jiang Feng insisted, suggesting that drinking porridge for afternoon tea was heresy.

Wang Hao had an epiphany, a plan formed in his mind: “Feng, if I remember correctly, wasn’t there a noodle shop right across from your family’s old place? Fang’s Porridge Shop bought your family’s old shop, right? Perfect, I’ll go to Fang’s Porridge Shop to get take-out, and then I’ll join you in the noodle shop. You eat noodles and I’ll drink porridge, a perfect match!”

Jiang Feng nodded, he brought his phone, while Wang Hao brought money; they left the dormitory to eat at the food street.

The first day of the new semester happened to be an afternoon of classes, and Jiang Feng barely saw anyone in school. By senior year, most majors no longer had specific classes, with just one or two optional classes that were mostly just the instructor by themselves, playing with their phones, but there had been a scheduling problem with Jiang Feng’s Photoelectric specialty, leading to having a major class in the first semester of senior year.

At this point, no one was really in the mood for classes. Those preparing for graduate school exams were in the last sprint, cramming intensively. Those looking for jobs had been running around since the summer, and let’s not even mention the looming specter of the graduation thesis hanging over everyone’s head, which thanks to a certain person, had exceptionally strict plagiarism checks this year.

Fortunately, the instructor for their major was also thoroughly unambitious, having declared during the summer that everyone only needed to attend the first lecture, and the rest would be at their leisure with a term paper due at the end.

If it weren’t for the fact that they had to stay for the first class, Jiang Feng thought that half of their class would run off after tonight’s class meeting with the counselor.

Passing by the basketball court, witnessing the poor freshmen and sophomores playing basketball happily under the scorching sun, Jiang Feng and Wang Hao couldn’t help but feel a sense of schadenfreude.

For PE electives, whether it was yoga, taekwondo, aerobics, badminton, or volleyball, all were indoors. Even Tai Chi was indoors, only basketball was played outside. Back then, Jiang Feng had naively believed Wang Hao’s nonsense – “Real men play basketball”, and foolishly chose basketball, almost getting baked alive on the worn-down court.

To hell with real men, I choose indoors.

Sitting in the dormitory, Jiang Feng hadn’t noticed, but now that he was walking outside with Wang Hao, he suddenly felt that Hao seemed much slimmer than the previous semester.

“Hao, did you hit the gym during the summer break? You look like you’ve lost a lot of weight,” Jiang Feng couldn’t help but marvel at the power of love; Wang Hao had once gained weight for love, and now he had lost weight for it.

“I definitely had to lie at home with the air conditioning during the summer. How could I possibly go out to exercise?” Wang Hao said with a fat otaku’s expression, “Feng, you don’t know, after getting used to the dishes from your place, the food my mom makes feels like falling from Mount Everest to the Tarim Basin! I starved myself skinny.”

“Then you’d better get used to it because I bet you won’t be able to eat it anymore.”

“How could that be? Feng, I’ve already found an internship in Beiping,” Wang Hao said proudly.

“Oh? Which PV company?” Jiang Feng looked at Wang Hao with new respect.

“Cough cough, a copywriter for an advertising agency.”

Jiang Feng: ???

“You see, Feng, this way I can continue to eat at your family’s restaurant in the future, how great is that? I’m planning to settle down in Beiping and not come back,” Wang Hao declared with resolve.

In his mind, Jiang Feng estimated the average cost of a meal at Taifeng Building and sincerely said, “I bet you can’t afford it.”

“How is that possible? I can still afford a meal that costs fifty or sixty bucks,” Wang Hao affirmed, implying he was wealthy too.

“The Sweet and Sour Yam I make costs 108 a plate.”

Wang Hao: …

Excuse my interruption, I must take my leave.

So, the two chatted on and off as they walked to the food street, arriving at the entrance of Fang’s Porridge Shop.

This was the first time Jiang Feng had seen Fang’s Porridge Shop since it had moved. If not for the new sign and the two big pots outside, Jiang Feng would have thought it was the Healthy Stir-fry Restaurant from before. The décor had not changed at all; inside, the tables and chairs, the hanging fern on the windowsill, and even the wooden menu hung on the wall were just like before, only the dishes listed had changed.

The only consolation was that the main and second owners of Fang’s Porridge Shop had good taste. They didn’t continue with the bright red signboard from before, but changed to a wooden-colored wooden sign that looked quaint and added a touch of history to the porridge shop.

“You go pack the porridge, I’ll go order the beef noodles, see you inside,” said Jiang Feng as he headed into the shop.

The air conditioning inside was strong, causing Jiang Feng to shiver involuntarily as he entered. Master Huang was sitting on the left, squinting as he watched a drama series with its volume turned up high. Jiang Feng could clearly hear a middle-aged man’s powerful voice shouting, “Comrades, charge!”

Master Huang liked watching war dramas.

Seeing a customer come in, Master Huang quickly hit pause, stood up, and upon recognizing Jiang Feng, greeted him with great delight, “Feng’s back! How’s the business doing since your family’s restaurant moved to Beiping?”

“It’s pretty good, about the same as when it was here,” Jiang Feng replied with a smile as he casually took a seat, “Master Huang, a large bowl of beef noodles, mildly spicy with extra green onions.”

“Oh, Feng now eats spicy food, not bad at all. Beef noodles should indeed be spicy; that’s when they taste best!” Master Huang went to prepare Jiang Feng’s noodles.

Jiang Feng watched Master Huang’s movements and suddenly realized that Master Huang’s technique wasn’t noodle pulling, but stretching noodles.

Previously, Jiang Feng, not knowing much about noodles, thought that all noodles that were folded and stretched repeatedly were hand-pulled noodles. Now he saw that Master Huang’s technique was clearly a more skill-intensive and difficult method of stretching noodles, no wonder he’d always felt that the noodles from Master Huang were tastier than others.

“Master Huang, you’re pretty good at stretching noodles!” Jiang Feng complimented him.

Hearing this, Master Huang was even more pleased, “Feng, you know your noodles, eh? Stretched noodles are delicious and chewy, and combined with the beef broth I’ve simmered all night, there’s not a noodle shop near UAL University that can make a better beef noodle than mine.”

Watching Master Huang’s skillful noodle stretching, even more proficient than Jiang Jianguo’s, Jiang Feng suddenly realized that he didn’t have to wait to go back to consult with Jiang Jianguo on how to stretch noodles.

Wasn’t there already a ready-made, and even better, teacher right here?

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