Chapter Ninety-One: Sworn Brotherhood
That night, when Ruan Mei came to Rousseau with the new version of the Swift Shuttle 2.0 to try on for him, Rousseau was texting Juno. The messages were nothing special—just things like, “I’ve arrived at the hotel,” “Is it cold there?” “What did you eat?” and so on.
Juno sent back a photo of dinner by multimedia message. It was obviously not taken in the training school cafeteria: the white tablecloth and red wine glasses made it clear the place was expensive. The caption read: “I’m out with my dad at a business dinner. The sadness of life is that the conversation is utterly off, but the food is still incredibly good.”
“Then you can only eat in silence.”
“You’ve improved, Rousseau.”
“Too kind.”
...
Ever since Rousseau got a phone, he had been in much more frequent contact with Juno. Especially over the past week, it was usually Juno who started the conversation first, always finding something to talk about. Little by little, Rousseau had also grown used to sending her a message after training, before sleep, or whenever something amusing happened.
At that moment, seeing Ruan Mei come in, Rousseau sent Juno a message: “Can’t talk now. Ruan Mei is here to try on shoes.”
At once, Juno replied with a puffed-up, indignant face. Rousseau found it oddly funny, and after that he started figuring out how to send emojis himself, finally sending her a head-pat.
By then, Ruan Mei had already opened the shoebox and taken out a brand-new pair of Swift Shuttle 2.0s. The shoes were a pale gold with red flame patterns, and the flames ran from the soles all the way up over the uppers, giving them an aggressively striking look.
The Swift Shuttle 1.0 had been the outdoor version.
The 2.0 was the indoor version.
Before Rousseau came to compete, he had given Lu Wang a few more suggestions, so Lu Wang had remade a pair specially for him. Ruan Mei brought them with her before leaving, and now she had come to find Rousseau for a fitting and photos.
By the time everything was done, it was nearly eight in the evening.
Grumble...
Rousseau heard Ruan Mei’s stomach growl.
“Hungry?” he asked with a smile.
“I... I’m dieting,” Ruan Mei said hurriedly.
“Forget it. You’re already skinny as a reed.” Looking at her pale, slender arms, Rousseau felt that one firm grip might snap them in two. “Come on, let’s go eat roast duck. I just made a small fortune. We’ll call the coach and Old Tian too...”
“You guys go ahead. I’m not hungry,” Ruan Mei said.
“You definitely want to go back and make instant noodles,” Rousseau said. “Fine, I won’t call Old Tian. That way you won’t feel pressured. I’m taking you to roast duck.”
Ruan Mei knew Tian Shiwei had feelings for her, and lately she had even started feeling a little afraid whenever she saw him.
From Rousseau’s point of view, Ruan Mei was being far too frugal. She had actually brought several packs of instant noodles with her to the capital, and even so, after taking a taxi from the airport, she still insisted on splitting the fare. He didn’t know whether to call that stingy or not.
“No, no, really, I’m not going...” she refused, but Rousseau dragged her straight to a very famous roast duck restaurant nearby.
The moment she saw the menu,
Rousseau felt a twinge in his liver.
It was outrageously expensive.
But then he touched the fifty thousand yuan in his pocket and immediately found his courage again.
And the moment Ruan Mei saw the menu, she was practically ready to explode.
“No, no, no, this is way too expensive!” she said.
“Today’s on me. It’s to thank Lu Wang for making my Swift Shuttle. It’s really excellent. I’m not just treating you either—I’m taking some back for the coach and Old Tian afterward too. So don’t try to save me money. No need to be polite,” Rousseau said.
“It’s too expensive...” Ruan Mei muttered under her breath.
Rousseau ate this meal with great enjoyment, while Ruan Mei looked under heavy psychological pressure. As soon as they stepped out, she wanted to split the bill with him. Rousseau swatted the hand she used to pull out her money. “Your old Lu finally gets to treat someone once in a while. Don’t embarrass me.”
...
November 30.
The competition day for the Capital Station of the 2004 Indoor Track and Field Invitational.
The whole meet lasted four days.
On the first day there would be the heats and final for the 60 meters; on the second day, the heats and final for the 200 meters.
As for the rest of the schedule, it had nothing to do with Rousseau.
This indoor meet... well, Rousseau looked around at the empty stands.
The arena at National Sports University had spectator seats—probably only a few hundred of them—running around the second floor of the venue. But on those seats sat only a sparse scattering of a few dozen college students. Rousseau had never seen such a shabby competition venue.
The 60-meter heats were divided into two groups.
Six athletes in each group.
With one glance, Rousseau locked onto two people he knew: Zhang Zhen and Zhao Liren, both former national team teammates of his.
Tian Shiwei had already run over to chat with them and was grinning happily at the moment.
Then Rousseau began striking poses so Ruan Mei could take photos.
Photos taken beneath the banner reading “2004 Indoor Track and Field Invitational and World Athletics Indoor Tour Sprint Meet.”
“You go to the finish line. When I cross first for the championship, take the shot,” Rousseau told Ruan Mei.
Seeing Rousseau come to the meet with his own photographer, the other athletes thought he was showing off. So what if he was the 200-meter champion of the Dongqing Games? He had no indoor 60-meter results.
Zhang Zhen, meanwhile, showed a look of disdain, though he didn’t dare come over and say anything. Otherwise Rousseau would definitely ask him, “Do you still remember your sworn brother?”
...
Very soon, the first round of the 60-meter heats began.
Rousseau was placed in the second heat.
He watched as several staff members set a pile of foam mats against the wall at the end of the 60-meter lane, meant to cushion the athletes in case they came in too fast to stop in time after sprinting the full distance.
Tian Shiwei was in the first heat, grouped with Zhang Zhen, and was warming up now.
After a few days of practice, Tian Shiwei’s 60-meter time had also improved. At present he could break 7.00 seconds. For a 100-meter runner, 60 meters was almost effortless training.
“Set—”
Once the six athletes were in position, the starter called out.
Then, crack!
All six shot forward together.
At the start, Zhang Zhen’s advantage was immediately visible.
Standing 1.70 meters tall, his build was relatively slim compared with athletes like Rousseau and Tian Shiwei. His reaction speed was excellent, and his experience in major meets was solid as well. Those qualities gave him an explosive start of about 0.13 seconds, which placed him in the top tier of all current domestic athletes.
In the 60 meters, that advantage was magnified even further.
Rousseau saw Zhang Zhen instantly pull ahead of the other five runners, and in the blink of an eye he was maintaining that lead all the way to the finish line. Even before reaching the line, he clearly eased off, which allowed him to stop after a few steps beyond the finish instead of crashing headfirst into the foam mats like Tian Shiwei.
Soon the electronic board displayed the results.
Zhang Zhen took first in 6.70 seconds.
Tian Shiwei took third in 6.95 seconds.
Tian Shiwei had made the final.
Yeah!
Tian Shiwei jumped up and waved his fists. Zhang Zhen smiled and congratulated him, but that warm and friendly atmosphere vanished without a trace the moment Rousseau came nearby to warm up. Zhang Zhen glanced at Rousseau, his smile fading, and hurried away as though afraid of catching something.
“Old Lu, I’m going to give you the nickname ‘Street Cleaner Tiger,’” Tian Shiwei said, clicking his tongue in wonder. “Why does Zhang Zhen look like a mouse seeing a cat whenever he spots you? What did you do to him?”
“What could I possibly have done to him?” Rousseau said while warming up. Wasn’t it just because they had sworn brotherhood?