Chapter 184: The Sports Meet Begins
In the following days, Zhou You trained at the sports school almost every day. Mornings were for the 100-meter dash, afternoons for the long jump. To improve his results, he also sparred daily with a few teammates. In the public's mind, track and field training isn't far removed from ordinary life—isn't it just running every day? But how do you train for the long jump? Observing over these days, Zhou You found it was more or less the same. You had to practice squat jumps, arm swings with bent elbows, continuous frog leaps, and finally running to build up leg muscles. The training was truly monotonous. Zhou You could handle it for short bursts, but prolonged, tedious drills like this? He couldn't stand it. Sparring was way more fun. No wonder Coach Sun had joked the other day, calling themselves "dumb donkeys." It's tough—professional athletes have it rough. And even with all that, results aren't guaranteed; most just retire when they reach a certain age.
Still, after this period of training, Zhou You's progress was remarkable. As several coaches put it, if physical fitness could be quantified into three parts—strength, speed, and constitution—then Zhou You's strength and speed lagged far behind his constitution and endurance. He could breeze through every drill, which spoke volumes about his stamina. Gaining a clear understanding of his own body was Zhou You's biggest takeaway this time, and it also revealed the secret to his undefeated streak. Strength and speed were good enough—already surpassing ordinary people. But constitution was what mattered most in real-world scenarios. That was something to bring glory to the nation.
In the blink of an eye, it was time for the sports meet.
The opening ceremony kicked off with a squad of lively, vibrant college girls forming a cheerleading team. Their debut performance instantly captivated the student audience. It was mid-April, the weather cool with a gentle breeze brushing against their faces. Short skirts bobbed up and down with their movements, and some with more ample assets couldn't help but steal the show, nearly making eyes pop out. To make matters worse, Zhou You spotted someone using binoculars to ogle from a distance. A closer look revealed it was Huang Zhenkai, already a junior, still up to such sneaky antics. As a teacher, Zhou You felt a pang of shame—how had he let his students turn out like this? He couldn't help but sigh inwardly. He decided he needed to step in again, to steer the kid back from the wrong path onto the right one.
As Zhou You approached, Huang Zhenkai didn't even notice, still absorbed in the spectacle. "Slap!" Zhou You smacked him on the shoulder. Huang Zhenkai jumped, ready to snap, but turned to see Zhou You and flashed a fawning grin. "Teacher, check out the first row, second from the left—what do you think?" He handed over the binoculars without thinking. Zhou You took them reflexively, glanced over, and thought, *Not bad.* Then, just as reflexively, he said, "You brought binoculars to watch the teachers' competition, right?" Huang Zhenkai froze for a second, then quickly caught on, nodding vigorously. "Yes, Teacher, exactly! Otherwise, why would a junior like me bother with a sports meet if not to see you in action?" "Alright then. Did everyone come?" Zhou You scanned the area and spotted quite a few former students. "Yeah, those who were free all showed up." That was a slick answer—like a reporter on a packed Spring Festival train asking, "Did everyone get a ticket?" and hearing, "Yes, we did." Zhou You chuckled. It was no small feat for juniors to show up; by this point, most seasoned students were busy with their own affairs, drifting away from school and teachers.
After the cheerleaders livened up the atmosphere, the athletes' parade began. Different majors from each college filed past in turn. Finally, the principal delivered the opening address. Zhou You paid close attention, curious about what kind of oddball had made this decision. He peered through the binoculars for a long time but drew a blank—probably someone here to gild their resume. Why else would they pull a stunt like this? The one thing you never wanted to deal with was a resume-padder. They couldn't get real work done but were masters of publicity. They'd cook up a flashy project, use connections to promote it, and then leverage those ties to get promoted, leaving a mess behind. As more and more of these types showed up, later arrivals had fewer tricks to play, so they kept innovating—truly, if you could imagine it, someone would do it. *Tsk, tsk. The "Exposure of the Official World" never lies.* You could only say: In prosperity, the people suffer; in decline, the people suffer. But Zhou You didn't care. If he got fed up, he could just pack up and leave.
The principal droned on for nearly an hour, and the students below were almost in tears. Never mind the weather—just standing for an hour was unbearable. Those who could deliver results were no match for those who could talk a good game. And those who could talk were no match for those with connections. Finally, it ended. Reading from a script for a whole hour—how embarrassing. At least it was a university; even without going off-script, you could look up at the students. Truly, each generation was worse than the last. No wonder the school never made any progress.
Finally, the competition rules were announced. Zhou You only paid attention to what concerned him. The 100-meter dash had six groups of eight, totaling 48 participants. Two rounds: the winner of each round advanced, leaving eight for the final. Simple enough—it saved a lot of hassle. The standing long jump was different: each person got three attempts, with the best score determining the top three. Last was martial arts, held indoors on the final day. No headcount was given, but it probably wasn't many. The schedule worked out perfectly: 100-meter on day one, long jump on day two, martial arts on day three.
Track events always drew the most attention, and the 100-meter was scheduled first. Zhou You headed to the locker room to change gear: spikes, red shorts, a black tank top—a red-and-black combo. On his back was a number bib: 58. *Not bad—lucky number.* He was in the fourth group, giving him plenty of time to warm up and stretch. It sounded quick, and it was over quick. Each group took about five minutes from start to finish. For the first race, the students in the stands were still buzzing, cheering loudly for their classmates. It was a riot of drums and firecrackers. But most were just making up the numbers. Although Luzhou University had sports recruits, it wasn't a specialized school, so the level was mediocre. First group: best time 13.12 seconds. Second group: 12.89 seconds. Third group: 12.63 seconds. Then it was Zhou You's turn.
As he stepped out, the announcer introduced him, and the stands erupted. The Library Science major might not have many students, but they were united—their shouts shook the sky: "Go, Teacher Zhou! Go, Teacher Zhou!" Zhou You, ever the showman, waved back. At the "Ready" command, he settled into his starting stance, ears tuned for the starter's pistol. *Bang!* Zhou You shot up, propelled by the starting blocks, and burst forward like a bolt of lightning, leaving the other runners in the dust.