"About a dozen, shouldn't take too long." Wang Fa replied.
"What's wrong?"
"Fu Xinshu suffered a metatarsal fracture over a year ago." Wang Fa said.
Lin Wanxing turned back. Among the crowd, the boy sat in a wheelchair with his back to them, his figure looking frail.
She and Wang Fa returned to stand before the students.
The corridor fell silent, creating a blank space in time where none of the twelve spoke.
Rain beat against the hospital window frames, streaming down the glass.
Qin Ao rubbed his face vigorously with his hands, suddenly crying out in pain.
His face contorted, grimacing with pain, though his dark skin made the fight marks from Wen Chengye less visible.
"Should we get you registered too?" Lin Wanxing asked.
"Damn, better register that Wen dog instead. How could I get hurt by his flashy but ineffective moves?" Qin Ao said through gritted teeth.
"Missing Wen Chengye already? But we can't register him for now - Teacher Jin said she's taking Wen Chengye back by high-speed rail first."
"Teacher, you're disgusting." Qin Ao made a gagging motion.
Silence fell again.
"He should have left long ago." Chen Jianghe muttered quietly.
"We never should have let him come in the first place. A dog can't change its habit of eating shit."
"I knew nothing good would come of this."
The students complained.
Perhaps suddenly finding themselves in a warm place after intense exercise, exhaustion began to set in. One by one, they leaned against the wall, complaining about Wen Chengye while unconsciously sliding down to sit on the floor.
Wang Fa chose a spot with a view of the CT room and sat down as well.
The students began talking over each other, their voices gradually growing more numerous.
Lin Wanxing listened to them speak restlessly, saying many, many things.
"Teacher..."
Someone suddenly called out.
This often happens during conversations - everyone falls silent at once, the atmosphere freezing momentarily, and the following question takes an abrupt turn.
"Hmm?" Lin Wanxing responded.
"What are we going to do from now on?"
The voice was low and hoarse, not coming from any of the more vocal players. Lin Wanxing looked over and saw the usually quiet Zhi Hui hugging his knees, head tilted as he watched her.
After thinking for a moment, Lin Wanxing said: "Are you asking 'what are you going to do from now on,' or 'what are you going to do about Wen Chengye from now on?'"
"I don't want to play football with him anymore." Zhi Hui said with certainty.
Quiet people are often like this - able to deliver final conclusions precisely.
"So sure? Why?"
"Because he's not a good person." Zhi Hui said.
Hearing this answer, Lin Wanxing fell silent.
She could certainly continue discussing with Zhi Hui - like how to define a person's "goodness" or "badness."
But everyone has their own measure.
Wen Chengye clearly didn't meet the standard in Zhi Hui's heart.
"'Not a good person' is a serious evaluation." Lin Wanxing finally said.
"If he were a good person, he'd feel 'sorry' when he does bad things. But he doesn't. Not before, and not now." Zhi Hui said.
"Things from before?" Unconsciously, Lin Wanxing glanced at Fu Xinshu's feet resting on the wheelchair footrests. "Teacher Qian said that during the last National Youth League, you didn't participate and the team disbanded afterward."
"That's exactly it." Qin Ao said.
"Why?"
"Because Fu Xinshu's foot was broken." Qin Ao's voice was calm, yet carried a coldness that seemed to seep through his teeth.Lin Wanxing thought that the past incident might be similar to what happened on the field today. For instance, a training accident, or something even worse—like Wen Chengye assaulting Fu Xinshu, causing him to fracture a bone, which was why no one wanted to talk about it.
But the reality was colder than she could have imagined, so cold that Wen Chengye himself seemed like an outsider in this brief story. Mentioning it left one feeling inexplicably empty and chilled.
The story took place last year.
Fu Xinshu came from a poor family and often worked odd jobs outside. Once, the bar where he worked had an incident—he was falsely accused by the manager of stealing a customer’s phone. It was said the phone contained many important documents, and the owner, a troublemaker, harassed him repeatedly, eventually showing up near the school.
There were many of them, and they weren’t even sure they could find Fu Xinshu. They just randomly picked a student near the field to ask.
As it happened, the person they approached was Wen Chengye.
To Wen Chengye, he didn’t care how menacing these people looked, nor did he want to bother with whatever trouble Fu Xinshu had gotten into. Although he could have simply said, "I don’t know," and helped Fu Xinshu avoid the situation, he casually pointed them in the right direction.
"And then these people found Old Fu," Qin Ao said.
In the hospital corridor, Fu Xinshu had a Hongjing No. 8 Middle School uniform draped over his knees. His foot, resting on the wheelchair footrest, twitched slightly.
Outside the window, the sky grew darker, and rain poured down relentlessly.
Later, Fu Xinshu didn’t attend training that day.
When they saw him again, he was in the hospital with a fractured foot, half-dead.
Lin Wanxing sat cross-legged, her ankles feeling a numb ache.
She understood clearly that in this story, Wen Chengye wasn’t the one who directly caused harm, so he couldn’t be considered truly evil.
But she also understood why the students were so angry.
Because in Wen Chengye’s moral framework, there was no room for compassion or guilt—traits belonging to a "kind humanity." He simply couldn’t be bothered to care who these people were or what they wanted with Fu Xinshu. He was equally indifferent to everyone.
His blood was always cold.
The CT room door slid shut, the indicator light turned on. After the current patient, it would be Fu Xinshu’s turn.
"Actually, it’s all in the past," Fu Xinshu said, taking a deep breath.
Lin Wanxing thought for a while and realized there was little she could do. She could only continue addressing the question Zhi Hui had raised earlier.
So she asked, "So now, none of you want to play with Wen Chengye anymore?"
One by one.
Her gaze swept over every student in the corridor, asking each in turn.
Shakes of the head, again and again.
"I don’t want to either."
"Me too."
Everyone voiced their stance.
Finally, her eyes landed on Fu Xinshu in the wheelchair.
"I don’t want to either," Fu Xinshu said firmly.
His lips were chapped, his face still bore bruises, and though he looked frail, his resolve was unshakable. He said, "Teacher, I don’t care if he’s a good person or not, but I know he doesn’t want to win. I don’t want to play with someone who doesn’t want to win."
Chapter 97: Night Talk
The leg wasn’t seriously injured.
After Fu Xinshu’s X-ray, they waited another half-hour for the results. It was just a simple soft tissue contusion; rest would suffice.
On this gloomy, cold day, they finally had some good news.Fu Xinshu was fine, so Lin Wanxing contacted Jin Ziyang. She arranged for the school bus to return to the Yuzhou Silver Elephant base to pick him and Wen Chengye up so they could all return to Hongjing together.
But Jin Ziyang said he had already taken Wen Chengye back to Hongjing by high-speed rail separately and asked her not to worry.
At 5:50 PM, the bus with two fewer passengers than on the way there carried the students from Yuzhou back to Hongjing.
Outside the window was the steel-gray highway. The bus lights only illuminated a patch of road ahead, while further away lay the silent winter night and completely dark paths.
They arrived in Hongjing late at night.
The weather was cold, and everyone was exhausted.
Lin Wanxing asked the driver to take each student home. When it was Fu Xinshu’s turn, only Lin Lu remained in the bus.
Fu Xinshu’s home was not far from Wutong Road. Wang Fa carried Fu Xinshu upstairs and said he could walk back, suggesting she take Lin Lu home first.
With two more people gone, the bus started moving again. The seats were almost completely empty now.
The driver yawned. Inside the bus, only the students’ restless breathing could be heard, interspersed with intermittent sniffles.
Lin Wanxing paused for a moment, then went over and patted Lin Lu.
The student turned over, burying his face against the window.
"We’ll be there soon," Lin Wanxing said.
Lin Lu buried his head deeper into his arms.
Under the glow of the streetlights outside, Lin Wanxing noticed his shoulders trembling, as if he were crying.
Lin Wanxing was at a loss.
Lin Lu, realizing he had been seen, shrank back even more in embarrassment.
Lin Wanxing withdrew her hand. In that moment, she felt she could understand the student’s turbulent emotions.
The exhaustion after arguments, the reluctance following decisions, the confusion about the uncertain road ahead—all of it erupted in this lonely moment after everyone else had left.
It was a city at midnight, lit by streetlights, where everyone had the right to be sad.
Lin Wanxing did not disturb him. Instead, she returned to her seat and sat back down.
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