Chapter 80: Entering the International Students

The dorm supervisor, perhaps unfamiliar with the Great South Heaven Gate deity’s name, replied coldly: “Who sent you? Have him come down to get you.”

So Wei Ming gave Li Aiguo’s, or rather Tom White’s, dorm number.

The dorm supervisor made one call, and soon Li Kui came charging down like a whirlwind.

“Hey, Ming! Get up here!”

Wei Ming went upstairs and entered Li Aiguo’s dorm.

The international students’ dorms were all twin rooms, spacious enough for one student and one accompanying person; besides Li Aiguo, who was applying hair wax, Wei Ming also saw an accompanying student.

“Wei Ming, nice to meet you. I’m Guo Xiaocong from Chinese 77. I’ve heard so much about you!”

“Oh, hello, student Guo.” From his accent, he was clearly from Beijing.

Accompanying students were usually chosen from Beijing locals—first, because their Mandarin was more standard, and second, because their family conditions were better, avoiding an overly stark contrast.

If Liu Zhenyun were the accompanying student, his worldview would collapse—how could anyone eat meat every single meal!

Wei Ming looked at the trio of black, white, and yellow faces: “Are we really just four people?”

Where’s the ladder party? What’s the point if it’s just a bunch of guys? I want to see curvy, blonde foreign girls with their eyes closed!

Li Aiguo laughed: “Of course not. This place is too small to really let loose. We’ll meet up at the cafeteria later and have fun there.”

Just then, a blond knocked on the door, wearing huge glasses, like a golden-eyed monkey.

He was holding a guitar and humming John Denver’s world-famous song “Take Me Home, Country Roads.”

Li Aiguo introduced him to Wei Ming: “This is my American hometown buddy Matt. His Chinese name is Mao Tianci—I think it’s worse than Li Aiguo.”

“Hi, new friend! You can also call me Amao.” He grinned and greeted Wei Ming.

With Li Aiguo ready, they all carried their things downstairs to the cafeteria, located in the northeast corner of the 26th floor.

Four girls were already waiting there, occupying a round table in the cafeteria’s corner.

Two of them were East Asian, one with silver hair, one with bright red hair—the red was especially vivid—and the redhead had a cassette player in front of her.

All the foreign students were from English-speaking countries: the two East Asian girls were British and Australian Chinese, the silver-haired girl was American, and the redhead was British.

Wei Ming, the only unfamiliar face among the girls, was given special attention.

The British Chinese girl exclaimed: “You’re Wei Ming? My roommate mentioned you—a poet, a writer, a guard!” Her Mandarin carried a distinct Cantonese accent.

“Who’s your roommate?”

“Xia Xiaohong.”

“Oh, I’ve eaten with her.”

“You speak Cantonese?! Are you from Guangdong? My dad’s from Guangdong...” She launched into an endless stream of questions.

“No no no, I know one person from Guangdong, so I understand a little Cantonese.”

“You’re so impressive—and so handsome! No wonder they all say you’re a big shot at Peking University.”

Seeing how impressive Wei Ming was, Li Aiguo felt immensely proud—he was his friend, so now he himself had connections at Peking University!

At that moment, the tall, fair-skinned redhead spoke up: “My roommate Xiao Cha also mentioned you.”

Xiao Cha was Zha Jianying. “Oh oh, I’ve eaten with her too,” Wei Ming replied, then asked her, “What should I call you?”

“Li Bai.”

Wei Ming immediately remembered what Li Aiguo had said: among the international students, there were two Lis named Bai—one Big Bai, one Little Bai.

“So are you Big Bai or Little Bai?” Judging by her height and figure, Big Bai seemed more fitting.

But she insisted she was Little Bai: “That Big Bai is a head shorter than me, and not nearly as pale.”

But there was no helping it—it was based on age.

Her name always made Wei Ming think of a little girl he’d once saved, so he simply called her by her English name, Melinda.

Seeing Melinda and the others begin handing out gifts, Wei Ming pulled out the Lu Ban Lock and explained it was an ancient Chinese intellectual toy—its game was to take it apart and reassemble it, over and over, endlessly.

“Wow, so beautiful—it’s truly an artwork!” Li Aiguo loved it; everyone gathered around.

Melinda’s eyes lit up: “Is this an antique? Is it valuable?”

“I’m not sure. I bought it at a secondhand shop—it had been forgotten in a corner, covered in dust and the marks of time.” Wei Ming’s description made them all more convinced it was an antique, though Li Aiguo insisted he’d never sell it—he’d keep it forever.

Compared to Wei Ming’s gift, Guo Xiaocong suddenly felt embarrassed by the Confucius Analects he’d bought—but Li Aiguo still gave him plenty of emotional validation.

After exchanging gifts, they opened their boxes and pulled out red wine and Coca-Cola.

Earlier this year, the first batch of Coca-Cola had entered Beijing, available at Friendship Store and Overseas Chinese Store.

There were also snacks: popcorn and chocolate, the very thing Liu Zhenyun had long craved.

Drinks and snacks were self-provided; meals still came from the cafeteria.

Wei Ming saw steak was available and immediately gave up the stir-fries—he hadn’t eaten beef in over a month; neither faculty nor student cafeterias offered it.

Li Aiguo told them to order freely—today’s entire bill was on Young Master Li. Wei Ming didn’t bother being polite.

After sitting down, Wei Ming noticed something: Li Aiguo and the Australian Chinese girl seemed to be flirting.

Li Kui and the silver-haired girl were cozy together; the rest were either single or their partners weren’t here.

Amao and Melinda chatted warmly, but Wei Ming understood—they were exchanging tips on part-time jobs. Not all international students were rich—even with China’s low cost of living, round-trip airfare wasn’t cheap.

Li Aiguo came from a middle-class American family, but many international students didn’t even qualify as middle-class.

Their side jobs were mostly one-on-one language tutoring; some were already planning to leave the country.

But Melinda had fewer opportunities—after all, America was still the beacon, and American English was naturally more desirable.

After sitting down, Guo Xiaocong kept staring at Wei Ming.

“What?”

Guo Xiaocong: “In ‘Two Bulls,’ you wrote about cows with such human qualities—I thought you didn’t eat beef.”

Wei Ming: Gu Tianle doesn’t eat beef!

He smiled: “In another story of mine, the donkey is even more human—but donkey meat buns are my favorite.”

Guo Xiaocong asked: “Then do you prefer Baoding donkey meat buns or Hejian donkey meat buns?”

“I refuse to answer questions that could start wars! My creed is love and peace.”

!

“Hahaha~”

Melinda, overhearing them, chimed in: “What’s this ‘donkey meat bun’? Is it related to ‘donkey rolling’?”

“No connection at all.” Wei Ming explained how donkey meat buns worked.

Melinda asked curiously: “Is donkey meat really tasty? I’ve never tried it.”

“We have an old Chinese saying: ‘Dragon meat in heaven, donkey meat on earth’—to describe how delicious donkey meat is.”

After hearing Wei Ming’s description, Melinda silently vowed to try it before leaving China—hopefully it wouldn’t be expensive.

After dinner and birthday cake, the party moved to the next phase: Melinda played music, and everyone danced.

The music was unmistakable—Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Later, when they heard the more energetic “We Will Rock You,” Wei Ming felt a spark of youth—he started dancing along to the beat, and enthusiastic Melinda even danced right up against him.

Guo Xiaocong, though he swayed to the energetic music, lacked the courage to get close to the foreign girls—even with Li Aiguo, he kept his distance and occasionally reported in.

He truly envied Wei Ming—perhaps this was what he meant: “The brave enjoy the world first.”

He himself wasn’t brave enough.

Over an hour later, the party ended, everyone was delighted, and they took group photos.

Then Wei Ming remembered something: “Do any of you have foreign magazines? I’d like to borrow some to practice my English reading.”

The library had few English originals, and some had borrowing restrictions.

Amao pointed to Melinda: “She has the most—we all give our used magazines to her.”

“Why? Are you selling them for scrap paper?” Wei Ming joked, knowing the foreigner was short on cash.

Melinda shrugged: “My money’s already tight buying tapes from home—magazines? I just take whatever’s left.”

She wasn’t embarrassed at all and told Wei Ming: “Come to my dorm—there’s a whole box.”

Male and female dorms in China could visit each other freely; international student dorms were even more relaxed.

The silver-haired international student clearly intended to stay overnight in Li Kui’s room—Peking University wouldn’t interfere.

But the dorm supervisor blocked Wei Ming.

“Are you an international student?”

Wei Ming: “Auntie, I’m just going up to grab some stuff—I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“In five minutes, my husband could go three times. Don’t try that on me.” The auntie was unmoved—and she flirted with Wei Ming.

Melinda cut through it—no explanation, just hooked her arm around Wei Ming’s shoulder and marched him in. The auntie couldn’t say anything, only hoped he’d keep his word and be out in five minutes—no diplomatic incidents.

“Is Xiao Cha not here?” Wei Ming asked upon entering.

“She’s home today—just me.” Melinda bent over, sticking her butt out, and pulled the magazine box from under the bed.

What a great figure!

Wei Ming genuinely admired this kind of healthy beauty.

Some magazines were bought at Friendship Store, like Time; others were brought by students from home, like Playboy.

Playboy was tempting, but outside Shao Garden, it was a time bomb ready to explode—so Wei Ming picked only a few issues of Time, including the January one with the Elder’s face on the cover.

“Just these?”

Wei Ming: “I haven’t had much time to read magazines lately—these are enough. I might return them a bit later.”

“No need to return them—they’re all unwanted anyway. I don’t even know what to do with them.”

“Still, I’ll return them. Goodbye, Melinda.”

“Goodbye, Leonardo~”

When Wei Ming stepped out of the female dormitory, the dorm supervisor glanced at her watch and sneered, “Hmph, just three minutes~”

(End of Chapter)