The car door opened, and Lin Wanxing took the opportunity to let the students board first. Everyone was still grumbling about Wen Chengye, saying he was like a dog that couldn’t stop eating shit.
Just then, the phone rang abruptly—this was probably what people meant by "a tangled mess."
On the other end of the line was Teacher Qian from the sports department, explaining that something urgent had come up at home. The school had arranged for another teacher to take over and asked them to wait a little longer at the school gate.
After hanging up, Lin Wanxing turned around to find Fu Xinshu still standing beside her.
"You should go on up; it’s cold outside," Lin Wanxing said, glancing at the students inside the car and motioning for Fu Xinshu to join them.
Although Fu Xinshu was usually mild-mannered, when his temper flared, he could be as stubborn as an ox.
"What if Wen Chengye doesn’t show up?" Fu Xinshu’s expression was grim.
"Ah, surely not?" Lin Wanxing stared at the distant intersection.
"Why not? He doesn’t care about us," Fu Xinshu said with certainty.
Lin Wanxing rarely saw this side of Fu Xinshu—so stubborn it bordered on obsession. The incomplete training sessions these past few days had even rattled the usually good-tempered Fu Xinshu.
As cars sped by, Lin Wanxing and Fu Xinshu stood waiting by the roadside.
"That’s just how he is. He plays when he feels like it and skips out when he doesn’t. He never considers his teammates, not even during training. He never pays attention to others’ positions or how they play. He knows perfectly well how crucial this match against Yuzhou Silver Elephant is for our Group Stage advancement, but he still skips training," Fu Xinshu vented, pouring out the frustrations he’d bottled up over the days.
Lin Wanxing listened quietly, then after a moment of thought, asked him, "What are your thoughts on this?"
The boy looked at her, his eyes filled with confusion and irritation. "I don’t know, Teacher."
"You’re dissatisfied with Wen Chengye, but have you considered any other solutions for our football team?" Lin Wanxing asked gently.
"What solutions?" Fu Xinshu remained puzzled.
"Simply put, do you want to replace him with someone else?" Wang Fa, who had been listening nearby for a while, cut straight to the point.
"What about Chen Weidong? Can we bring Chen Weidong back, just for the next match? Let him play," Fu Xinshu suddenly looked up at them.
"Chen Weidong hasn’t trained with us for over a month. If you’re sure we need him back for the next match against Yongchuan Evergrande, we can try to communicate with him together."
The distant intersection was empty—not a soul, not even a car—eerily quiet. "Or do you mean that if Wen Chengye doesn’t come today, we should go find Chen Weidong now?"
Fu Xinshu said nothing.
Lin Wanxing let out an almost imperceptible sigh.
The boy kicked the ground. "I just want to win. Actually, you’ve always wanted us to understand that football isn’t necessarily about winning, but I don’t get all that. I just want to win."
Lin Wanxing sighed helplessly. "That’s a misunderstanding. I never meant that."
"Forget it," Fu Xinshu finally uttered those two words. "I guess this is just how we are."
The boy’s brow was lightly furrowed, the constant conflicts since Wen Chengye joined seemingly carving permanent worry lines.
The last time Fu Xinshu had spoken to her with such seriousness and despair about the future was back when they had just started.
Back then, Fu Xinshu believed they couldn’t go on like this.
If they stopped playing football and drifted apart, there would truly be nothing left for the future.Then they painstakingly assembled this current team, stumbling step by step until today, where they still find themselves trapped by the simplest personnel issues.
Lin Wanxing thought for a while, gently blowing on her fingers that had grown cold from holding the sign-in board. Wen Chengye's name remained blank on it.
The cold wind howled as a taxi sped over. Lin Wanxing followed the sound with her eyes. After a heavy, sharp screech of brakes, the taxi stopped.
The door opened, and someone stepped out.
Lin Wanxing looked toward the sound and suddenly froze.
It was Jin Ziyang, the popular figure from Hongjing No. 8 Middle School.
"Teacher Jin, what brings you here?" Lin Wanxing asked.
"Originally, Teacher Qian was supposed to accompany you, but something suddenly came up at home, so I volunteered," Jin Ziyang said.
The roadside fell quiet again. Lin Wanxing looked up and saw the students in the bus casting strange, scrutinizing glances.
Lin Wanxing instinctively glanced at Wang Fa.
Wang Fa, however, remained unfazed.
Jin Ziyang swept his gaze over the bus and asked, "Is everyone here, Teacher Lin? It's so cold outside—why not wait inside the bus?"
Lin Wanxing replied, "There's a student named Wen Chengye who hasn't arrived yet."
Jin Ziyang asked, "Did he say when he'd get here?"
Lin Wanxing shook her head. "His phone is unreachable."
Jin Ziyang took out his phone. "I'll call his mother."
Lin Wanxing was taken aback and said, "I just called—no one answered."
But before she could finish, Jin Ziyang had already dialed.
Unexpectedly, the call connected quickly this time.
Jin Ziyang slipped one hand into his pocket and instinctively took a few steps to the side, standing by the roadside trees to avoid them.
From Lin Wanxing's perspective, she could see Jin Ziyang wearing a relaxed, casual smile, seeming quite familiar with the person on the other end of the line.
Soon, he hung up and returned, saying lightly, "Wen Chengye will be here soon. There was a small matter at home that delayed him."
Fu Xinshu's tense expression finally eased.
Jin Ziyang explained that he had once been Wen Chengye's private tutor, so he was quite familiar with the Wen family.
"Then, Teacher, do you know what Wen Chengye was doing during the New Year break? He hasn't come to training for many days."
"Not that familiar," Jin Ziyang replied with a slight smile.
Wen Chengye arrived very late.
Just as the bus driver couldn't help but ask her, "When will the students finally all be here? Keeping the air conditioning on is using up fuel," Wen Chengye stepped onto the bus.
The boy wore a thick down jacket, his face pale. Half of it was buried in a scarf. He cast a cold glance at the other players on the bus, found an empty seat by himself, and sat down. He neither apologized for being late nor spoke to anyone.
"Happy New Year," Lin Wanxing greeted the student with a smile.
Wen Chengye, however, only gave her a detached glance.
The scene was witnessed by the other students on the bus, and everyone felt a surge of anger.
The bus's air conditioning was on, creating a humid, stifling atmosphere inside. It felt like a barrel of mixed explosives—though damp and not easily ignited, there was no telling when it might suddenly blow up.
The bus left the city and entered the highway. No matter how much everyone had initially looked forward to the match against Yongchuan Evergrande, the anxious wait before departure and the subsequent three-hour journey were enough to wear down much of that enthusiasm.Wen Chengye sat alone in the very last row of the bus, both seats beside him empty. Outside the window were small yellow hills unique to winter, patches of grass clinging to them, still steeped in the damp atmosphere of winter rain, not yet dried out.
The students had been snacking throughout the journey, as if on a spring outing, but now, lulled by the rocking of the bus, they grew drowsy, and the vehicle quieted down.
Lin Wanxing had originally been sitting with Wang Fa.
When there was a minor traffic jam on the highway, she stood up to stretch her legs and noticed Wen Chengye sitting alone in the back row, his face dark.
Lin Wanxing could tell he wasn’t feeling well and asked the driver to pull over at the next rest area.
Jin Ziyang enthusiastically called out to the boys, saying he’d treat them. One by one, the boys got off the bus.
Lin Wanxing glanced back and saw Wen Chengye still sitting in his seat.
"Motion sickness?" Lin Wanxing asked.
Wen Chengye’s face remained dark, and he said nothing.
"Or are you feeling unwell from this morning? Was it something you ate?"
"Do you want to get off and get some fresh air?"
But no matter how she asked, Wen Chengye remained silent.
Lin Wanxing had no choice but to open the window beside him.
"If it gets cold once we’re back on the highway, you can close it yourself," she said.
The students who had gone out for a break returned, carrying all sorts of food—grilled sausages, dried tofu, and the classic highway zongzi. The bus was instantly filled with a rich mix of smells.
But this joy clearly didn’t belong to Wen Chengye.
As the bus started moving again, Lin Wanxing returned to her seat in the front.
Watching the students happily eating, she joked to Wang Fa, "These kids are so easily bribed."
"As long as Teacher Lin stays firm in her beliefs," Wang Fa replied.
"Of course, I’ll stay firm," Lin Wanxing said, saluting Wang Fa playfully. Then she glanced toward the back of the bus.
Wen Chengye had shifted two seats over and was now sitting by the window, letting the wind blow on him.
Chapter 95: Cold Mist
Yuzhou’s terrain was low-lying, surrounded by mountains, and its climate was colder and more humid than Hongjing’s. This level of dampness was unimaginable to those who hadn’t experienced it firsthand.
The Yuzhou Silver Elephant base’s field was nestled in a valley, so looking into the distance, the entire world was shrouded in a thin winter mist.
Lin Wanxing stepped off the bus, breathing in the heavy, moist air.
The boys jostled their way out, and Wen Chengye, sitting at the very back, naturally was the last to disembark.
Organizing committee staff were waiting at the check-in point, and Lin Wanxing signed in as usual. The other students, led by Jin Ziyang, noisily made their way toward the locker room.
Wen Chengye walked slowly. Jin Ziyang didn’t wait for him or look out for him, despite knowing him.
Lin Wanxing and Wang Fa stood by the roadside for a while before the boy finally trudged over. His complexion was still poor—it seemed the cold wind on the bus hadn’t helped.
"Motion sickness?" Lin Wanxing asked, falling behind with him, far from the main group.
Wen Chengye remained silent, his eyes darting around as if he were enduring something.
"If you feel like throwing up, you can go to the restroom. There should be one near the locker room," Wang Fa reminded him.
Wen Chengye visibly retched. Boys his age were often prideful, and Wen Chengye was no exception.
Wang Fa said nothing more. He walked with Wen Chengye to the locker room entrance and finally said, "If you’re not feeling well, take some time alone outside to get some air."
The door suddenly opened.
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