stjorthotic Chapter 13 College Students
Chapter 13 College Students
Looking back, I saw a girl riding a bicycle out of town.
She wore a white shirt with a floral print, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing a section of her slender, white forearm.
Her hair was tied into a ponytail, swinging back and forth behind her head.
A sky-blue ribbon was tied to the end of her braid, fluttering in the morning breeze.
A bulging brown handbag was tucked into the back seat of the car.
She rode very fast, and the bike wobbled a bit.
The front wheel is painted with a dragon, which means the rider is not very skilled and has only recently learned to ride.
Chen Zheng moved aside and prepared to continue walking.
The girl rode up in front of him and suddenly squeezed the brakes.
"squeak!"
The wheels left a trail on the ground. She put one foot on the ground to steady the vehicle, then turned her head to look at him.
"Are you from Lutang Village?" The voice was crisp and clear.
Chen Zheng was taken aback: "How did you know?"
The girl pointed to his trouser leg.
"Your trouser legs are covered with bits of water chestnut leaves and mud from the reed roots."
This kind of mud is only found on the lake beaches around Lutang Village; it's different elsewhere, and its color is yellowish.
It's dark where you are.
Chen Zheng looked down and saw that the mud on his trouser legs was still wet, black and covered with a few pieces of fallen leaves.
Perhaps it was from when I hugged Teacher Zhao that I didn't notice.
"Are you from Lutang Village?" the girl asked again.
"Yes."
"Do you know Teacher Zhao Deming?"
Chen Zheng's heart skipped a beat: "I know him. You're looking for him?"
"I am his student."
The girl got out of the car, propped it up, and tidied her bangs that had been ruffled by the wind.
"I heard from a friend at the health center that he's sick?"
Chen Zheng glanced at her.
The girl was seventeen or eighteen years old, not short, not much shorter than him, probably up to his ears.
Her skin was fair, unlike the girls in the village who were always tanned under the sun and had dark skin.
Her face had a thin blush, from the fatigue of cycling, and there were beads of sweat on her forehead.
His eyes are large, with clear black and white, and he looks at people directly and openly without flinching.
Unlike the girls in the village who would lower their heads when they saw strangers.
Her eyebrows resembled two crescent moons.
She has a straight nose and thin lips that are rosy even without rouge.
She stood there, wearing a white shirt, blue trousers, and black cloth shoes.
A clean, sky-blue ribbon was tied to her ponytail, which didn't quite match the drab town.
"Are you Teacher Zhao's student?" Chen Zheng asked.
"Yes. Summer vacation has started, so I came back to visit Teacher Zhao."
"I heard he's sick. How is he? Is it serious?" the girl asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.
"He has pneumonia and is staying at the health center. He was sent there last night. His fever has subsided a bit, but he hasn't woken up yet."
The girl frowned, took her handbag from the back seat, and tucked it under her arm.
"Then I'll go to the health center to see him. You came from the health center? Which ward is he in?"
"The second room on the left on the first floor. My brother is guarding it there, you can just go directly there."
"Okay, thank you," the girl said, pushing her bicycle away.
She took a couple of steps, then stopped, turned back to look at him, and asked, "By the way, what's your name?"
"Chen Zheng".
"Chen Zheng..." the girl read it once, then nodded.
"My name is Lin Xiaoyun. Teacher Zhao used to teach me for several years in elementary school."
She spoke in a calm tone, but there was a deep emotion in her eyes.
Chen Zheng watched her push her bicycle into the gate of the health center.
Her ponytail swung back and forth, and the sky-blue ribbon fluttered in the wind, like a water chestnut flower on a lake.
A thought stirred within me, though I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was.
In his past life, he didn't remember such a person being in the village.
Lin Xiaoyun... I thought about it for a long time, but I couldn't remember the name.
She might have married into another village, or she might have moved away; who knows?
In his past life, he lived in a daze and couldn't even recognize all the people in the village, let alone the students that Teacher Zhao had taught.
When Chen Zheng returned to the village, it was already broad daylight.
Smoke curls from chimneys as every household prepares breakfast; the aroma of firewood and porridge mingles together, creating a warm and comforting smell.
He went to Teacher Zhao's house first.
Teacher Zhao's house is next to the school. It's a small house with mud walls and a thatched roof, similar to most houses in the village.
The door wasn't locked; it was ajar and opened with a push.
The house is small, just one room, divided in two.
The outside is the stove and dining area, and the inside is the bedroom.
The pots and pans on the stove hadn't been washed yet; they were piled up in a basin, and the water had gone cold.
The fire in the stove had long since gone out, leaving only a pile of cold ashes.
Inside the bedroom, there was a single bed covered with a blue and white checkered sheet, the edges of which were frayed.
There were several books stacked on the bedside table, the top one being "Guan Zhi of Ancient Prose," the pages of which were curled.
There were a few slips of paper tucked inside, half of them sticking out.
At the foot of the bed was an old-fashioned wardrobe with peeling paint.
The cabinet door wasn't closed properly, revealing a corner of neatly folded clothes.
On top of the cabinet was an enamel basin, its rim chipped in several places, revealing the dark iron inside.
On the desk sat a kerosene lamp, its shade blackened by soot, and next to it were several pens and a bottle of ink.
There was also a stack of exercise books.
The workbook was from elementary school. When I opened it, I saw that it was an essay written by a third-grade student, titled "My Ideal".
There was a piece of writing that was crooked and messy, but it was done very carefully, with each stroke meticulously executed:
"My dream is to become a teacher, like Teacher Zhao, and teach the children in the village to read and write."
Let them leave this village and see the outside world.
Chen Zheng felt a pang of sadness as he read the essay.
Afterwards, I tidied up the house, washed the dishes, wiped the stove, and swept the floor.
They then collected Zhao Deming's dirty clothes into a basin and carried it to the well outside.
I filled a bucket with water and started washing.
He didn't have many clothes: just two shirts, a pair of pants, and a few pairs of socks.
The shirt collar was frayed and the cuffs were torn.
It seems that Teacher Zhao sewed it up herself with a needle and thread; the stitches are crooked and don't look very good.
While I was washing, Chen Rong came looking for me.
"Brother, how is Teacher Zhao?" he asked, standing by the well.
"The fever has subsided, but he hasn't woken up yet. Jianguo is keeping watch over him."
Go tell Dad that I'm not going to catch crabs today; I have to go to town to look after Teacher Zhao.
"Put the cage in there for me. The bait is the same as yesterday—a mix of earthworms and snails."
Chen Rong nodded: "Okay. Brother, shall we use the money from selling the crabs to pay for Teacher Zhao's medical expenses?"
"Okay. Let Teacher Zhao use it first. I'll find another way to pay for Mother's medicine."
Chen Rong nodded, turned and left.
Chen Zheng hung the washed clothes out to dry in the yard, then went back inside to look around and found a packet of noodles and a few eggs.
He cooked the noodles, poached two eggs, put them in two enamel mugs, wrapped them in cloth, and carried them to town.
When we arrived at the health center, we pushed open the door to the observation room and saw Zhang Jianguo sitting in a chair, dozing off.
His head was nodding off, and he was practically drooling.
Zhao Xiaojun was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding an enamel mug filled with steaming hot porridge.
He was sipping his drink slowly, his cheeks bulging.
The girl named Lin Xiaoyun was sitting on the other side of the bed, wiping Zhao Deming's hands with a towel.
The movements were very careful, wiping one finger at a time.
Seeing Chen Zheng enter, she looked up and nodded to him: "You're here?"
"Yeah. I brought some food."
Chen Zheng placed the enamel mug on the bedside table. "Xiao Jun, I cooked noodles for your dad. He can eat them when he wakes up."
Zhao Xiaojun's eyes lit up: "Brother Zheng, when will my dad wake up?"
"Almost there. Look, your complexion is much better."
Zhao Deming's complexion was indeed much better than last night, and he had regained some color.
His lips were no longer purple, they were slightly parted, and his breathing was steady.
Lin Xiaoyun wiped Zhao Deming's hands clean and put them back in the quilt.
Then he stood up, took the enamel mug from Chen Zheng, and opened it to take a look.
"Noodles? And an egg on top." She smiled. "Did you cook that?"
"Hmm. It's not very tasty, but it'll have to do."
"Looks good." She closed the lid and placed it on the bedside table. "I'll feed him when Teacher Zhao wakes up."
Chen Zheng then took a closer look at her.
She changed her clothes; she wasn't wearing the white floral shirt from the morning anymore, but a light blue one.
The collar was embroidered with a few small flowers, the stitches were fine and dense, it was probably embroidered by herself.
Her hair was restyled, tied into a high ponytail.
The sky-blue ribbon was replaced with a white one.
Her fingers were long, with well-proportioned knuckles, and her nails were neatly trimmed and clean.
"You go to school in the county town?" Chen Zheng asked, trying to find something to talk about.
"Yes, the county's No. 1 High School, Grade 11."
"Are your grades good?"
Lin Xiaoyun smiled and said, "Not bad, top ten in the grade."
She said this neither arrogantly nor modestly.
"That's impressive," Chen Zheng said.
Lin Xiaoyun didn't reply, but turned to look at Zhao Deming, reached out to touch his forehead, and then withdrew her hand.
"The fever has gone down quite a bit, but it's still a bit high. I need to continue with the injections."
When she spoke, her tone was very steady, not like a seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl, but more like an adult.
Her movements were swift and efficient; she poured water, wiped her hands, and tucked in the blankets, doing everything perfectly.
"Did you come all the way from the county town by yourself?" Chen Zheng asked.
"Yes. I stayed at a classmate's house last night, and she told me that Teacher Zhao was sick, so I rushed back early this morning."
I rode my bike for over an hour, I'm exhausted.
As she spoke, she rubbed her legs and frowned.
When she frowned, she looked like a seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl.
"Are your parents sure you'd be comfortable letting you travel so far alone?"
Lin Xiaoyun smiled and said, "My father works in the county town, and my mother works at the supply and marketing cooperative in the town."
They know Teacher Zhao won't say anything about me.
Teacher Zhao taught me before, and my mother said that one should always remember kindness received.
As she spoke, she took a cloth bag out of her handbag, opened it, and inside was a packet of pastries and a few apples.
The apples were bright red and polished to a shine.
"I brought these for Teacher Zhao. They're his favorites: osmanthus cake and apples."
She arranged the items one by one on the bedside table, neatly stacking them.
Zhao Xiaojun's eyes lit up when he saw it: "An apple! I haven't had an apple in ages!"
Lin Xiaoyun smiled, took one and handed it to him: "Here, eat it. It's washed, you can eat it directly."
Zhao Xiaojun took it, took a big bite, his cheeks puffed out, and mumbled, "Thank you, sister!"
Lin Xiaoyun reached out and patted his head: "You're welcome. Your dad used to give me apples, remember?"
Once, I got first place in a test, and your dad rewarded me with an apple, about the same size as this.
Zhao Xiaojun thought for a moment, then shook his head: "I don't remember. My dad never talks about these things."
Lin Xiaoyun smiled and didn't say anything more.
At this moment, Zhao Deming moved slightly.
He frowned, his eyelids twitched, and he slowly opened them.
"dad!"
Zhao Xiaojun was the first to rush over, almost dropping the apple in his hand. "Dad, you're awake! You scared me to death!"
Zhao Deming looked at him, his lips moved, and his voice was very soft: "Xiaojun...it's okay...Dad's okay..."
"Teacher Zhao, don't move, lie down."
Lin Xiaoyun leaned closer and pulled the blanket up a bit.
"You had a fever and are at the health center. You got an injection and the fever has gone down."
Zhao Deming looked at her and recognized her: "Xiaoyun? What brings you here?"
"I came back to see you during the holidays. I heard you were sick, so I came over."
Zhao Deming sighed, as if to say something, but then he started coughing again, his face turning red and his body curling up like a shrimp.
Lin Xiaoyun quickly helped him up, placing a pillow behind his back so he could lean against something.
He picked up the enamel mug, opened the lid, scooped up a spoonful of noodle soup, blew on it, and brought it to his lips.
"Teacher Zhao, have some soup first to soothe your throat."
Zhao Deming took a sip, calmed down, and his cough gradually stopped.
He looked at Lin Xiaoyun, his eyes a little red: "You child, you came all this way..."
"Teacher Zhao, please stop talking. Just focus on getting better and don't think about anything else."
Lin Xiaoyun handed over the spoon and fed him another bite.
Chen Zheng stood to the side watching, feeling a mix of emotions.
In his previous life, Zhao Deming walked alone.
When he passed away, he had no relatives with him.
"Teacher Zhao, this is Chen Zheng." Lin Xiaoyun pointed to Chen Zheng.
"Your student brought you here last night. If it weren't for him, you'd still be lying by the lake right now."
Zhao Deming looked at Chen Zheng and recognized him: "Chen Zheng? You're... from Chen Changhe's family?"
"The fish you gave me last time was delicious."
"Teacher Zhao, do you still remember me?"
"I remember. You were in my class when you were little, and you sat in the last row."
Although he's not very talkative, he always manages to pass his exams.
As Zhao Deming spoke, a slight smile played on his lips. "You have a younger brother named Chen Feng, right?"
"Yes. Teacher Zhao, you have a great memory."
Zhao Deming shook his head: "It's not that I have a good memory, it's that I remember all of you kids."
I've been teaching for twenty years, and I've kept a record of all the students I've taught in my notebook.
Year after year, everyone knows exactly who is who.
As he spoke, he reached into his pockets.
"Come here, take a look."
Chen Zheng took the small notebook with slightly curly hair.
Upon opening it, one finds dense, neat handwriting, each stroke precise and clear.
"Class of 1972, Chen Changhe's family, Chen Zheng, enrolled in September, average grades, calm personality..."
Chen Zheng's hand trembled slightly as he looked at the line of text.
Zhao Deming wrote down everyone's names.
They knew exactly what year he enrolled, his family situation, his grades, and his personality.
Some even listed what happened to them afterward: who got into high school, who joined the army, and who married into another village.
"Teacher Zhao, you...you wrote everyone down?"
Zhao Deming nodded: "It's good to write it down. In case you remember it someday, you can just flip through the notebook and you'll know who's who."
As people get older, their memory declines; if they don't write things down, they forget them.
He said this in a very calm tone.
But Chen Zheng knew this was not normal.
Hundreds of students were written down one by one, each stroke carefully and neatly.
How much effort will that take?
How big of a heart does that take?
"Teacher Zhao, please take good care of yourself. Don't worry about the medical expenses, I'll figure something out," Chen Zheng said.
Zhao Deming shook his head: "No, no, how can I let you pay? I have my own money, I..."
"Teacher Zhao."
Lin Xiaoyun interrupted him, "Your most important thing right now is to recover. We'll take care of the money."
You have taught for so many years and taught so many students; everyone remembers your kindness.
If we don't help you now, when will we?
Zhao Deming looked at her, his lips trembling slightly.
Zhao Xiaojun lay on the edge of the bed, looking up at his father: "Dad, make sure you get your injection and take your medicine properly."
"When you're better, I'll have Zheng teach me how to cook noodles for you."
Zhao Deming reached out and touched his son's head, tears streaming down his face.
He turned his head away, wiped his face with his sleeve, and said in a hoarse voice:
"Okay, Dad will listen to you. Take good care of yourself."
Chen Zheng stood to the side, his nose tingling with emotion. He turned around and pretended to look at the scenery outside the window.
Outside the window, the sun had already risen, shining brightly on the rooftops of the town.
The gray tiles gleamed.
In the distance lies Baiyang Lake, its vast expanse of blue water covered with endless reeds.
He took a deep breath, suppressing the sour feeling.
At this moment, Lin Xiaoyun stood up and handed the enamel mug to Chen Zheng:
"You watch over Teacher Zhao, I'll go get some hot water. The kettle's empty."
She picked up the thermos from the bedside table and went out.
Chen Zheng watched her walk out.
The white shirt was tucked into the blue pants, revealing a slim waist, and the steps were neither too big nor too small when walking.
"Chen Zheng," Zhao Deming suddenly called out to him.
"Um?"
"That girl, Lin Xiaoyun, was the best student I ever taught."
Zhao Deming said, his tone brimming with undisguised pride.
She studied hard and got good grades, and was admitted to the county's top high school.
She consistently ranks in the top ten of her grade in every exam, and her teachers all say she'll get into university.
"University?" Chen Zheng was taken aback.
In 1984, college students were a rare breed.
For several years, not a single college student has emerged from the entire Baiyang Town.
"Yes. She told me that she wanted to go to teachers' college, and after graduating, she would come back to be a teacher and teach the children in the village."
As Zhao Deming spoke, the corners of his mouth curled up.
"Tell me, is this kid stupid? He got into university, and now he's coming back to this poor village?"
When he said he was being silly, his eyes were full of light.