Section 15: Putting the Mule to the Test

The military training was rather uneventful, mainly because the weather was unbearably hot. On the first afternoon, too many students had collapsed from the heat, so the instructors relaxed their demands and extended rest periods to avoid stirring up resentment among the students. The boys, bored out of their minds, started critiquing the girls, claiming they wanted to pick the most beautiful girl in the English department. Yet, during military training, everyone wore identical camouflage uniforms, drenched in sweat, and tanned dark from the sun. Even if someone insisted that one girl was prettier than another, it lacked any real conviction. Choosing the department or even campus beauties was a pastime everyone enjoyed, not because of who won, but because the process of “judging” gave people a sense of power and the satisfaction of casting their sacred vote. Sima didn’t join these informal gatherings, missing out on much gossip, but he had other matters to attend to—and soon, the entire English department was abuzz.

That day was a weekend, and Sima received a notice to report to the gym at 4 p.m. for the track and field team’s tryouts. At noon, he deliberately ate lightly, avoiding overeating. After lunch, he took a nap to conserve energy, adjusting his body to its optimal state. Upon waking, he showered and took a taxi to Beizhi Foreign Languages University, arriving at the gym five minutes early. The school had swimming, basketball, volleyball, tennis, badminton, and track and field teams. It was a widely accepted fact that the swimming team was the strongest; the others merely made appearances at the school sports meet.

All freshmen trying out for sports teams gathered at this time to first undergo measurements of height, weight, and lung capacity. Then, captains and vice-captains of each team would take them for specialized tests. About twenty people passed the initial screening for the track team, both boys and girls included. Zuo Lin was among them; he recognized Sima and greeted him, asking which event he was signing up for. With nothing to hide, Sima said sprinting. Zuo Lin chuckled, saying it was a coincidence—they both specialized in sprints, focusing on the 100 meters, 200 meters, and relays. From what Sima gathered, Zuo Lin had been professionally trained, likely recruited through a special high-level athlete program, brimming with confidence and already anticipating a spot on the school’s official track team.

The track team’s tryout was overseen by captain Xu Zegang and vice-captain Lu Youyou. Xu Zegang was the senior who had set up the recruitment booth under the shade of a tree on registration day. The starting pistol they needed seemed to have malfunctioned, so he hurried to the equipment room to swap it out, unable to greet the freshmen. Lu Youyou was tall and slender, bright and outgoing. She introduced herself briefly, holding a stack of application forms and taking attendance. Noticing the stiff, nervous expressions on everyone’s faces, she lightened the mood by sharing the origin of her name, quoting from the Book of Songs: “The deer cry 'you you,' feeding on wild greens. I have honored guests, playing the zither and blowing the flute.” Her surname was rare, as was her given name. Sima thought of Lu Yuan and wondered if Lu Youyou was related.

With such a large setup, technical deficiencies and management chaos were inevitable. The Beizhi Foreign Languages University track team was self-aware, not aiming for completeness but focusing solely on four track events: the 100 meters, 200 meters, 400 meters, and the women’s 100-meter hurdles. Other events like middle- and long-distance runs, relays, field events, and all-around competitions were abandoned due to the lack of promising athletes. Lu Youyou had reviewed the freshmen’s applications beforehand; most were for sprints, with a few attempting high jump and long jump—probably lacking self-awareness. Official team members usually needed to meet the level of a second-class athlete, and Lu Youyou didn’t have high hopes for those.

There were few applicants for the high jump and long jump, making the tests easier to manage. Lu Youyou was strict and impartial; none of the freshmen passed, and they sheepishly stepped aside as spectators. The majority who applied for sprints first underwent the 100-meter test. Besides Sima and Zuo Lin, six other freshmen lined up, filling all eight lanes. Without starting blocks or spikes, the test was informal. Xu Zegang temporarily acted as the starter, firing the pistol at the starting line, while Lu Youyou timed with a stopwatch at the finish line. Without assistants, she held a stopwatch in each hand. Based on experience, only the top two had a chance; the rest were merely running for show.

Zuo Lin, experienced, was already warming up. The others imitated his stretching and limbering exercises, including Sima, each looking awkward and ungraceful—enough to amuse Zuo Lin. After a few minutes, Lu Youyou raised her hand to signal readiness. Xu Zegang raised the starting pistol and called out, “On your marks—set—” before decisively pulling the trigger. The pistol fired, releasing a puff of white smoke. Lu Youyou started her stopwatch at the sight of the smoke, but there was a slight delay before the sound reached her ears.

Zuo Lin shot out like an arrow from a bow, accelerating, maintaining speed, and sprinting with all his might. At the moment he crossed the finish line, he glanced sideways and saw another figure nearly simultaneous with him—it was Sima! His heart tightened, eyes wide. Lu Youyou checked her stopwatch: Sima clocked 12.10 seconds, Zuo Lin 12.15 seconds—both impressive. The others lagged far behind, the fastest barely breaking 14 seconds. The standard for a male second-class athlete in the 100 meters was 11.5 seconds hand-timed. Without starting blocks or spikes, times were generally 0.5 to 1 second slower, so with more training, both could easily qualify for the “second-class” certificate.

Lu Youyou specialized in the women’s 100-meter hurdles but had also run sprints. In her eyes, Sima had more potential—not merely because he was 0.05 seconds faster. Zuo Lin’s form and rhythm showed professional training, while Sima relied purely on raw physical ability. To run such a time “naturally” indicated exceptional talent.

Xu Zegang fiddled with the starting pistol and called the girls to the track for their 100-meter tests. The standard for a female second-class athlete was 12.8 seconds hand-timed. Unfortunately, none of the freshmen broke 14 seconds. After the men’s and women’s 100 meters, Xu Zegang reviewed the results. Zuo Lin and Sima stood out, bringing a rare glimmer of hope to the school’s track team.

The plan was to test the 200 meters next. Since Zuo Lin and Sima had just run the 100 meters and were still catching their breath, they were told to rest while the 400 meters was moved up. Xu Zegang pulled Sima aside, advising him to skip the 400 meters and focus fully on the 200 meters later. Sima accepted the kindness without protest and expressed his gratitude. Noticing Xu Zegang’s special regard, Zuo Lin also made friendly conversation and joined Sima to watch the 400-meter race, explaining that sprinters usually double up in events like 100 and 200 meters or 200 and 400 meters. The combination of 100 and 400 meters was rare due to the significant difference in demands. Of course, this “doubling” applied to high-level athletes; casual runners at school meets might even compete in 100 meters and 3000 meters.

The 400-meter race was similarly unimpressive. After it ended, Zuo Lin and Sima had rested sufficiently. When the starting pistol fired again, they once more dominated the 200-meter track, both finishing just over 24 seconds. This time, Zuo Lin edged out Sima by a narrow margin—enough to soothe his earlier disappointment.