Chapter 12: Friendship in the Shade

The assembly whistle sounded at 8:10. Li Hang looked up from his phone, got to his feet, and returned to the exemption area. Across the field, the training groups were forming ranks again. The instructors’ commands carried hundreds of meters: “Attention! At ease! Dress right!” Each shout was louder and more commanding than the last.

Military training was familiar to Li Hang. In his previous life, he’d come out of it as dark as charcoal, the back of his neck peeling and his arms marked by the pale outline of an invisible vest. He remembered sweat running from his forehead into his stinging eyes while he stood in the sun, unable to wipe it away. He was more than happy to be exempt this time.

The exemption area was beneath a covered side corridor of the gymnasium. Air flowed through, cool in the shade. More than forty students sat on cushions, reading handbooks or dozing against the wall. Instructor Wang sat in a folding chair, occasionally looking up from his phone to check that everyone was present.

Li Hang sat near the edge. Someone beside him spoke. “Hey, are you exempt too?”

He turned to see a powerfully built young man, at least 185 centimeters tall, with broad shoulders and thick arms. Even seated, he towered over his neighbors. His gray short-sleeved shirt exposed well-defined muscles; he clearly trained regularly.

“Yes, because of my weight.” Li Hang patted his belly. “You?”

“Sprained ankle.” The young man pointed to the elastic bandage around his right ankle, which was still a little swollen. “Qin Fang, sports college. I specialize in the 400 meters and 400-meter hurdles.”

“Li Hang, computer science.”

Qin Fang was talkative. After a few words, he asked about Li Hang’s exemption. Li Hang explained his weight and his efforts to lose it. Qin listened without the usual surprise.

“At your weight, you really shouldn’t be training out on the field.” He moved his injured ankle. “I hurt this last year pushing through a run. It never fully recovered, and I sprained it again recently.”

“That’s why you’re exempt?”

“Yes.” Qin smiled ruefully. “It should recover in another week, though. How are you planning to lose weight?”

Li Hang outlined his plan: meals designed by a nutritionist, a fitness coach, daily walks, and basic strength training.

Qin listened carefully. “That’s the right approach. You can’t rush at your size. Start with low-intensity cardio for longer periods instead of chasing speed. Strength training matters too; you need to preserve muscle. Otherwise you’ll lose water and muscle and regain weight faster later.”

“You know about this?”

“I’m a sports student. Exercise science is compulsory.” Qin slapped his thigh. “I was going to offer to check your form if you didn’t have anyone at school, but a professional coach will know more than I do. I train for explosive events, which isn’t quite the same as fat loss.”

Several nearby students drifted over to listen. A girl from the art college asked Qin how to care for an ankle injury; she’d sprained hers running last month and it still wasn’t fully healed. Qin explained ice and heat, bandaging, and rehabilitation exercises. Li Hang listened, impressed by his knowledge.

Qin could talk to anyone. After discussing the ankle, he chatted about basketball with a civil-engineering student, then running apps with a girl from business. His voice was the loudest in the exemption area.

By eleven, the sun blazed overhead, seemingly softening the synthetic track. The canopy and breeze made the exemption area tolerable, though the air was warm. The trainees had it much worse.

Li Hang could see Computer Science Class One on the eastern side, some sixty students in six rows. Their instructor walked before them calling commands. Standing at attention, they held their heads and chests high, stomachs in, hands against their trouser seams, like rows of stakes planted in the ground. There was no shelter from the sun. Several girls’ faces were red as boiled shrimp; the boys were little better, sweat rolling down their foreheads. Even the breeze felt like a convection oven.

“At ease!” The class moved their left feet in unison, though many legs were trembling. “Five-minute break. Drink water!”

They scattered toward their bottles. Shi Xiao drank several gulps, water spilling from his mouth onto his collar. Xu Haodong drank more slowly and wiped his sweat, still composed. Qiao Chuan crouched and fanned himself with his hat, his face scarlet.

The break was short. The instructor checked his watch and blew the whistle. “Fall in! Attention!” Another round began.

Watching from the shade, Li Hang was grateful he wasn’t among them. His weight had cost him many conveniences, but at least it had earned him two weeks of observation duty. He couldn’t complain. He returned to the handbook.

At 11:40, morning training finally ended. At the command to dismiss, people poured toward the cafeteria as though a gate had opened. The exempt students stood and stretched before leaving in groups. Li Hang said goodbye to Qin Fang and headed for the dorm.

He passed many flushed, unsteady students returning from training. Some glanced at him, but unlike the first two days, they didn’t keep staring. They seemed simply to recognize the fat guy and move on.

Li Hang noticed the change. On the first day, everyone had turned to look and Shock Points had poured in. On the second, fewer did. Today, although some still looked twice, their eyes no longer held the same surprise. In a few more days, he guessed people in this area would become accustomed to him. He’d be an ordinary NPC to them—a very fat NPC, but no novelty after repeated sightings.

It reminded him there was a limit to earning points through his size alone. He needed to accomplish something worthwhile soon.

He collected lunch downstairs. The insulated bag was full: 120 grams of multigrain rice, 180 grams of black tiger shrimp, and 280 grams of broccoli and snow peas. The shrimp were plump, pink, deveined, and butterflied; the broccoli was green and the peas crisp. The ingredients were clearly good.

He set out the boxes and ate as if completing a task: shrimp, vegetables, rice, chew, swallow, repeat. It tasted decent, but compared with the cafeteria’s oily, heavily seasoned dishes, it was almost excessively plain. Still, he knew that was what he needed now.

Halfway through, the door opened. Shi Xiao rushed in first, face scarlet and a mark from his cap across his forehead. He collapsed into his chair without removing his shoes. “I’m dying! It’s only been one morning!”

Xu followed, flushed but walking steadily. He hung his jacket on the chair and slowly drank a glass of water. Qiao came last, lips slightly pale, and sat down without a word.

Shi spotted Li Hang eating at leisure and looked green with envy. “You’ve got it so easy! Skipping training was absolutely the right choice. Look at us: almost three hours standing this morning. My legs aren’t mine anymore.”

“It was rough,” Xu agreed unusually. “The sun was brutal.” Qiao silently nodded.

Li Hang smiled. “Rest while you can. You’ll be starting again soon.”

They did. Shi Xiao flopped onto his bed and went still. Xu closed his eyes in his chair. Qiao covered his face with his hat, whether asleep or not. Li Hang finished his meal, threw away the boxes, and climbed into bed too.

They had two and a half hours off before assembling at 2:30. He planned to nap. That afternoon, he would ask Instructor Wang for permission to move around some more. He couldn’t sit still every day; with training waived, he had extra time to increase his exercise gradually.