"You know how to get to the dormitory, right? Go right along the main road, turn onto the small path, see that row of tile-roofed houses? Your dorm is over there, room 103, the one closest to the entrance." Uncle’s classmate couldn’t even be bothered to show the way, just pointed with his hand.

Brian Bolton certainly knew where it was, and didn’t want to trouble him, so he nodded directly: "I know."

"Then go ahead."

"Okay."

Brian Bolton had absolutely no respect for this teacher; in his previous life’s three years of high school, this teacher had never been responsible for Brian Bolton at all.

Carrying a big bag and dragging his suitcase, he struggled his way to the dorm area—a row of more than ten tile-roofed houses lined up side by side.

These were dorms built by Shuangdun Middle School in the seventies and eighties, shabby and simple, with wild grass growing in front of the doors.

Shuangdun Middle School had three dormitory areas: one was here, the old tile-roofed houses from last century; another was the current girls’ dormitory, two five-story small buildings; and the last was the newly built student dormitory, six stories high, with fifteen rooms on each floor.

But since the new dorms weren’t finished yet, this batch of new male students could only stay in the tile-roofed houses.

And over his entire high school life, just for the dorms alone, Brian Bolton moved three times.

The first time was naturally here in the tile-roofed dorms, where he stayed for about half a semester; the second time was in the girls’ dormitory, because the tile-roofed houses leaked everywhere, so the school managed to vacate one of the three-story buildings originally for teachers and gave it to the girls, while the original girls’ dorm was given to the boys; the third time was when the new dorms were completed, just in time for the division of arts and sciences in the second year, and the dorms were reassigned.

The most interesting was the second move, where the boys’ dorm faced the girls’ dorm directly. After evening self-study, the girls’ dorm lights would come on, and so many boys just couldn’t sleep!

Infrared laser pointers would always be darting around the girls’ dorm.

Some of the bolder ones would even stand shirtless at the window, daring the girls to admire their skinny frames.

They were all just-developing students—hardly any of them had muscles.

"Room 103, room 103 should be this one." Putting his big bag at the door, Brian Bolton stood in front of a shabby iron door, the room number on it barely visible.

Memories from more than ten years ago were already a bit fuzzy for Brian Bolton, and he had to look for a while before confirming this was indeed room 103. Actually, he was just being silly—if he just tried the key, he’d know right away. After all, the key for room 103 shouldn’t be able to open any other room.

But then again, who knows.

Brian Bolton remembered that before they moved to the new dorms, someone had used their own key to try opening the new dorm rooms, and actually managed to open several.

Apparently, with these standardized locks, the chance of duplicate keys was much higher.

Anyway, Brian Bolton entered the dorm, picked the lower bunk closest to the door—he didn’t like sleeping on the top, especially with these old iron bunk beds, which were hard to climb.

The dorm had a tile roof, six bunk beds in total, enough for twelve students. The bathroom was at the end of the row of tile-roofed houses—a dilapidated public toilet combined with a washroom.

After making his bed and putting away his valuables, Brian Bolton took his remaining four hundred yuan, locked the door, and went out again.

……

"Sir, to Shuangdun Town." There were many tricycles parked at the school gate, two yuan for a ride to town.

At this time, almost everyone was coming to Shuangdun Middle School, very few were heading to Shuangdun Town, so Brian Bolton was the only one in the carriage. Before long, after a bumpy ride, he arrived at Shuangdun Town. At this moment, Shuangdun Town was pretty much as Brian Bolton remembered it—after all, his impression of the town was from those three years of high school. After graduation, he hardly paid attention to how the town developed.

"Big roundabout, small roundabout, Sina Internet Café, Boiling Internet Café... better go to the barbershop first."

Brian Bolton entered a barbershop that looked quite stylish from the outside. In 2001, new-style beauty salons were already popular in the cities, but in small towns, old-fashioned buzz cuts were still the norm. Brian Bolton’s previous old-school "crew cut" was just the kind you got for one yuan.

Now, he wanted a change.

As he entered, a sloppily dressed female employee came up: "Looking for someone?"

"Haircut."

"Your hair’s already so short, and you still want a haircut?" The female employee clearly thought Brian Bolton was joking.

Brian Bolton sat down in the barber’s chair and pointed at his head: "Buzz cut. Should I wash my hair first?"

"Buzz cut? What buzz cut?" The female employee looked confused.

At this moment, the young barber—probably the owner—who was cutting another customer’s hair, turned and said, "You mean a crew cut, right? The clippers cut. Okay, Xiaocui, wash his hair first, I’ll come over after I finish this one."

A buzz cut, or more specifically the crew cut, is when all the hair is shaved to the same length, exposing the scalp, much like a prison inmate’s hairstyle. This kind of cut makes you look energetic, with a bit of a rebellious vibe. Compared to the regular student crew cut or the two-block cut favored by little punks, the crew cut is much sharper.

The main character in the American TV series "Prison Break," Miller, had this crew cut. Brian Bolton liked the crew cut after watching "Prison Break," though that was still a few years later.