My ridiculous days

At 7 PM, in the classroom.

The middle-aged counselor began: "We only had half a day of military training for a reason—you've all heard of the H1N1 flu, right? The swine flu!"

Instantly, the class erupted into chatter like a boiling pot of porridge.

"Quiet, everyone! Starting tomorrow, the school has decided to grant a one-month holiday." When this fell, the entire class exploded in cheers. Suddenly, the teacher seemed as lovely as when Chairman Mao announced the founding of China—Tiananmen Square-level excitement.

But some weren't thrilled. "Dammit, we just arrived three days ago! This is tossing us around. We haven't even experienced college life yet!" Yet despite these protests, inner "joy" couldn't be hidden.

The counselor gave us two QQ group numbers for the class, which we noted down. Finally, she briefed us on semester start dates, holiday safety, etc., then distributed new textbooks for pre-studying at home.

After a series of hassles, we returned to the dorm.

Chuanchuan immediately griped: "TMD, I just soaked my clothes when the holiday came—so freaking lame!"

Through a cloud of smoke, Lord Wu swaggered in: "Haha, this is more like a J8 university—holiday right after arriving! Perfect timing; my family has 50 mu of crops to harvest."

"I can finally watch those 'action flicks' I downloaded but haven't seen!" Spit leered.

"Bro, I want to watch too..." I cooed in a girlish whine.

"Sure, I'll send them. As the saying goes: 'He who hasn't watched certain country's action flicks isn't a complete man.'"

"Who said that?" Mouse interjected. "The version I heard is: 'He who hasn't taken the Gaokao isn't a complete man!'"

I couldn't stand internet misquotes anymore—so many versions: no Gaokao, no dog meat... Soon it'll be "He who hasn't practiced Sunflower Scripture isn't complete"—but practicing it also makes you incomplete. So confusing.

We bickered while packing—we had to go home tomorrow. At 11:30 PM, Mouse's phone rang.

"Hello? 洒司 (What's up)? Ah? No way! Okay, I'll pack." Hanging up, he dressed hurriedly: "Hurry up! My 脑 (老) 乡 called—they're sealing the campus tomorrow; no one can 出气 (leave)."

The dorm went into shock. This was b*llsh*t, especially at night!

Soon, noisy crowds outside confirmed the news. We jumped up, repacked quickly, and rushed out—faster than ever. Missing this meant staying on campus for a month—no one wanted that!

Leaving the dorm, we saw countless students dragging luggage toward the gate. At the entrance, it was 人山人海 (packed like sardines). Hundreds crammed at the small gate—hard to even see outside, let alone push through.

Thankfully, Lord Wu had a brainwave: "I'll pretend to faint—carry me out, or we'll miss the train!"

We hoisted "unconscious" Lord Wu: "Make way! Someone fainted!"

This worked—we fought through the crowd.

"Hey, we're out!" No response from Lord Wu.

"Get up, you're heavy!" Still nothing.

Xiaohua threatened: "If you don't get up, we'll drop you on three! One..."

Lord Wu pleaded, but we ignored him, counting "Two..."

"Dear 大侠 (heroes), I yield! Spare me!"

"Good attitude. We'll let you go, but bother any decent girls again, and we won't be so kind!"

Lord Wu, wrongfully accused of lechery, looked 委屈 (wronged) but forced a smile: "Yes, yes! I dare not again!"

Dropping Lord Wu, we realized—no taxis! That's why everyone was stuck at the gate. We walked to hail two cabs. Then noticed Little Di and Mouse were gone (not like that—just separated).

After walking a while, we found two cabs and headed for the train station. Arriving, we paid 10 yuan, but the driver protested: "Night fare plus tonight's situation—20 yuan now."

Helpless, we paid extra. I decided to draft an ad: "Taxi drivers: the fighter jets of drivers! Oh yeah~!" Many got ripped off that night—drivers made a killing. All cabs from other areas flocked to our route—thanks to China Mobile, Unicom, Telecom...

At the station, we split into three lines. Soon, crowds poured in—glad we arrived early.

Spit needed to transfer at the next northern station; Lord Wu, Xiaohua, and I were on the same route, so four of us waited. The train came at 3 AM; we dozed in the waiting room.

Lord Wu woke us for ticket checking. We joined the crowd: "So messy!" After checking, we reached the platform. Soon, a green train "roared" in (sort of). The crowd surged—we were nearly crushed, but Lord Wu, with his burly build, stayed unscathed. That's the gap—no one messes with a tough guy.

Amid the chaos, a familiar voice: "Help! Save me!" Who? We looked around, then realized—Xiaohua!

There he was, one leg stuck in the gap between the train and platform, about to fall. We wanted to laugh but held it in.

Lord Wu dashed over, grabbed Xiaohua's collar with lightning speed, and yanked him out. Xiaohua teared up: "My savior! Let me bow to you!" We couldn't hold it anymore—roaring with laughter.

After more struggles, we boarded the train. Xiaohua vowed: "Never take a night train again! Almost died..." Still 后怕 (terrified)—luckily the train hadn't moved. That would've been no joke.