From a county-level lecture hall to a nationally renowned teacher

一

There was no holiday for New Year's Day in 2003.

On the senior year schedule, there's only one day off for New Year's Day. But the students didn't rest—the classrooms were packed with people, some doing problems, some memorizing, and some explaining problems to each other. Even Liu Qiang was there, hunched over his desk doing a math test, his brow furrowed so deeply it could trap a fly.

When Lin Zhiyuan arrived at the classroom and saw this scene, he felt a mix of emotions. He stood at the door for a while, then went in and wrote a line on the blackboard:

Happy New Year. Let's work hard together this year.

Sun Xiaolei looked up and smiled, "Teacher Lin, why didn't you write 'The outcome is uncertain, we could all be dark horses'?"

"I've already said that. Let me say it again."

"This sentence is too ordinary."

"Ordinary is good. Ordinary has power."

Sun Xiaolei pouted and lowered her head to continue working on her problems.

Lin Zhiyuan walked around the classroom. When he walked over to Zhou Haitao, he saw that Zhou Haitao was doing English reading comprehension. A thick English dictionary lay open on the table, its edges worn and some pages almost falling off.

"This dictionary needs to be replaced," Lin Zhiyuan said.

"It still works." Zhou Haitao said without even looking up.

Lin Zhiyuan didn't say anything more. He made a note of it.

The next day, he went to the Xinhua Bookstore in the county town and bought a new dictionary for forty-eight yuan. He placed the dictionary on Zhou Haitao's desk without leaving his name. But when Zhou Haitao saw the dictionary, he looked up at Lin Zhiyuan. Lin Zhiyuan pretended not to see it and turned back to erasing the blackboard.

Zhou Haitao replaced the old dictionary with the new one on the table. He opened it to the first page, where a line of text read: "Go out into the world. —Teacher Lin"

He didn't cry, but his eyes were red.

two

Final exams in mid-January.

This was the last major exam of the first semester of senior year. After the results were released, Lin Zhiyuan organized the data and conducted a detailed comparative analysis. Overall, the class average score remained stable with a slight increase, continuing to maintain its position as the top-performing humanities class. However, some students' scores fluctuated.

What made him happiest was Liu Qiang. In this exam, Liu Qiang's overall ranking improved from over 130th in the grade to over 90th. He scored 92 points in math, which was the first time he had passed math since starting high school.

Lin Zhiyuan praised Liu Qiang in class. Liu Qiang lowered his head shyly, his ears turning as red as boiled shrimp.

"Liu Qiang, come up here and tell everyone how you improved?"

Liu Qiang hesitated for a while before finally standing up, walking to the podium, and scratching his head: "I don't know how I improved... I just did problems every day, and asked questions when I didn't understand. The more I asked, the more I gradually learned."

"Who are you asking about?"

"I ask Teacher Wang, I ask my classmates. Sometimes I ask Teacher Lin too." He glanced at Lin Zhiyuan, "Teacher Lin is also quite good at math."

The whole class laughed.

"Anything else?" Lin Zhiyuan pressed.

"And..." Liu Qiang thought for a moment, "I just don't want my mom to worry anymore. She gets up at three o'clock every morning to go to the market. If I don't study hard, I'll be too embarrassed to go home."

The classroom fell silent.

Lin Zhiyuan patted him on the shoulder: "Go back. Keep up the good work."

Liu Qiang returned to his seat. His deskmate patted his arm and whispered something. He smiled, revealing a set of white teeth.

After class, Lin Zhiyuan made a copy of Liu Qiang's report card, put it in an envelope, and asked Wang Jianguo to give it to his wife—Wang Jianguo's wife, Zhang Lihua, knew Liu Qiang's mother, and the two often met at the market. Wang Jianguo glanced at the report card and whistled, "This kid's got potential."

"You teach math well."

"That's right." Wang Jianguo was a little proud, but then became modest. "But the main reason is that he's willing to learn. Liu Qiang used to sleep in class and never hand in his homework. I was about to give up on him. But this semester he's suddenly become a completely different person."

"People change," Lin Zhiyuan said.

"Yes," Wang Jianguo remarked with a sigh, "Whether things turn for the better or for the worse, sometimes it all comes down to just one person."

Lin Zhiyuan knew what Wang Jianguo meant. But he didn't respond. He just felt that the greatest sense of accomplishment for a teacher wasn't about how many high-scoring students they produced, but about watching someone who was about to give up on themselves stand up again.

three

At the end of January, final exams ended, and winter break began.

But the winter break for senior high school students is only ten days long.

School only lets out for the holidays on the 28th day of the twelfth lunar month. School starts again on the 7th day of the first lunar month. When Lin Zhiyuan told the students about this arrangement, no one complained. They already knew that there was no real holiday for senior high school students.

Zhou Haitao didn't go home. He said it was too far, taking two days to travel back and forth, so he might as well study at school. Lin Zhiyuan arranged a dormitory for him and also spoke to the cafeteria staff, asking them to save a meal for Zhou Haitao every day.

"Be careful at school, you'll be all alone," Lin Zhiyuan said.

"I know."

"Call me if anything comes up."

"it is good."

As Lin Zhiyuan left, he glanced back. Zhou Haitao stood at the dormitory entrance, wearing his faded cotton-padded jacket and holding an English book. A cold wind blew, and he hunched his shoulders, but didn't go inside.

"Let's go inside, it's cold outside," Lin Zhiyuan called out.

Zhou Haitao nodded, turned around, and went into the house.

Lin Zhiyuan rode his bicycle home. The streets were already filled with the festive atmosphere of the New Year, with red lanterns hanging everywhere, Spring Festival couplets pasted on the walls, and stalls selling New Year's goods lined up one after another. Firecrackers crackled intermittently, and children ran around in the alleys.

He returned home to find his mother frying meatballs. The kitchen was filled with the smell of cooking oil, and the aroma could be smelled from miles away.

"You're back?" The mother didn't even turn her head.

"Um."

"Your student, the one you always talk about, Zhou Haitao, isn't he going home for the Chinese New Year?"

"I'm not going back. It's too far."

The mother was silent for a moment, then scooped a plate of meatballs from the pot, picked up a few with her chopsticks and placed them on another plate: "Take this to him. It's the New Year, and he's all alone at school, without even a hot meal."

Lin Zhiyuan felt a warmth in his heart as he looked at the plate of meatballs.

"Mom, thank you."

"What are you thanking me for? Your mother is a teacher too." The mother wiped her hands. "Teachers can't just take care of students; they also have to take care of students' lives. That's what your grandmother used to say."

Lin Zhiyuan carried the meatballs and rode his bike back to school. It was already dark, and the campus was quiet, with only a few streetlights on. He walked to Zhou Haitao's dormitory and knocked on the door.

The door opened. Zhou Haitao was wearing a cotton-padded coat and holding an English book in his hand.

"Teacher Lin?"

"I brought you some food." Lin Zhiyuan handed him a plate. "These are fried meatballs by my mom. Eat them while they're hot."

Zhou Haitao took the plate and stared at the golden meatballs for a long while.

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing." He lowered his head. "Thank you, Teacher Lin."

"You're welcome. Eat well and get some sleep. You need to study tomorrow."

Lin Zhiyuan turned and walked away. After taking a few steps, he heard a soft "Teacher Lin" behind him. He turned around and saw Zhou Haitao standing at the door, the streetlight illuminating his face, his eyes shining.

"Happy New Year," Zhou Haitao said.

"Happy New Year."

Lin Zhiyuan rode his bicycle away from the school. The red lanterns at the school gate swayed in the wind, casting the words "Anyuan County No. 1 Middle School" on and off. He rode slowly, his mind filled with many thoughts. He thought about Zhou Haitao spending the Spring Festival alone at school, Liu Qiang helping his mother sell vegetables at the market, Zhao Xiaoman being asked about her grades by relatives at home, and how Chen Yutong would spend her first Spring Festival after her parents' divorce.

Thinking of these children, he felt a heavy burden on his shoulders.

But he didn't want to let it go.

four

On the seventh day of the first lunar month, senior high school students returned to school.

There are 120 days left until the college entrance examination.

Lin Zhiyuan wrote a countdown on the blackboard in the classroom: 120 days. Then he drew a table with everyone's name and target score. After each monthly exam, he would fill in the actual score and compare it with the target score.

"I'll keep this chart up until the college entrance exam," he said. "We'll look at it after each monthly exam. It'll be clear at a glance who has improved and who has regressed."

The students looked at the chart with varying expressions. Some were full of confidence, some looked troubled, and some were expressionless.

"I know it's stressful to see your name listed there. But that's exactly the kind of pressure I need. Without pressure, you won't work as hard as you want."

He began his lecture. Today's topic was composition. He selected several top-scoring essays from the college entrance examination and analyzed them one by one. He discussed structure, language, theme, and supporting materials. He spoke very meticulously and quickly because time was running out.

After class, Zhao Xiaoman came to find him.

"Ms. Lin, my target score is 560. Do you think I can achieve it?"

What do you think?

"I have no idea."

"Your Chinese and English are both good, and your humanities subjects are also okay. Your math is a bit weaker, but your foundation isn't bad. If you can improve your math score by another 20 or 30 points, getting 560 shouldn't be a problem."

"But math is too hard."

"Even if it's difficult, you have to learn. Go find Teacher Wang and ask him to create a plan for you to improve your score. Decide how many questions you should do each day and which questions you should do. Follow the plan."

Zhao Xiaoman nodded and turned to leave.

"Zhao Xiaoman".

She turned around.

"You ranked 52nd in the grade in the last monthly exam. That's still a ways off from the top 15, but you're making progress. Keep up the good work."

Zhao Xiaoman's eyes lit up, and she quickly walked out of the office.

五

Mid-February, Valentine's Day.

Lin Zhiyuan bought Su Wanqing a bouquet of flowers. Not roses, but lilies—Su Wanqing said she didn't like roses, they were too common. Lilies were better, elegant, and fragrant.

Su Wanqing was on duty at the hospital when she received the flowers. She put them in a glass vase on her desk, filling the entire consultation room with the scent of lilies.

"Lin Zhiyuan, how much did you spend?"

"Not expensive."

"How many?"

Thirty-five.

Su Wanqing glared at him: "Thirty-five isn't expensive? That's enough for you to eat several meals."

"Only once a year."

"Even once a year is not allowed. You're not allowed to buy it anymore."

"it is good."

Su Wanqing knew he was just giving her a perfunctory answer, but she didn't continue. She picked up the flowers, smelled them, and smiled slightly.

That evening, the two took a walk along the river. The February river breeze was still quite cool, stinging their faces. But Su Wanqing insisted on continuing, saying, "It's been so long since we've taken a walk together."

"Lin Zhiyuan, have you been very busy lately?"

"Busy. I'm a senior in high school now, lots of things to do."

"I know. I just wanted to tell you not to overwork yourself. Your health is important."

"I'm fine."

"You always say you're fine." Su Wanqing stopped and looked at him. "You've lost at least ten pounds. Did you know that?"

Lin Zhiyuan looked down at himself and realized he had indeed lost some weight. His pants were a size too big at the waist, and his belt was buckled in two holes.

"Things will be better after the college entrance exam."

"That's still several months away."

"A few months will pass quickly."

Su Wanqing sighed and said nothing more. She took his arm, and the two walked slowly along the riverbank. The river was pitch black in the night, its bottom invisible. On the distant bridge, car headlights flickered like fireflies.

"Lin Zhiyuan."

"Um?"

"Do you think we'll still be taking walks like this when we're old?"

"Probably."

How did you know?

"Because I want to spend my whole life with you right now."

Su Wanqing didn't speak. She rested her head on his shoulder, her hair brushing against his chin, tickling him. The wind blew from the river, carrying the scent of water. He felt this moment was wonderful, so wonderful that he wanted to save it for later.

六

In late February, the school organized a 100-day countdown rally.

All the senior students stood on the playground, each holding a small red flag. The principal gave a speech, followed by speeches from the grade head and student representatives. After their speeches, everyone chanted slogans together.

"Give it your all! Fight for the college entrance exam!"

"I will win! I will win! I will win!"

The sound was deafening, even startling the sparrows in the trees into flight.

Lin Zhiyuan stood in the teachers' formation, looking at his students. Zhou Haitao shouted the loudest, the veins in his neck bulging. Liu Qiang shouted the loudest, his voice hoarse. Zhao Xiaoman shouted earnestly, tears welling in her eyes. Chen Yutong didn't shout; she just held up the flag, her lips moving, but her voice was drowned out.

After the oath-taking ceremony, the students returned to their classrooms. Lin Zhiyuan stood on the podium, looking at the fifty-four faces below. Some were still excited, some had calmed down, and some seemed lost in thought.

"Today's rally was filled with loud slogans. But slogans are just slogans," he said. "A true vow isn't shouted, it's made. From today onward, for one hundred days, every day, every lesson, every problem you solve is a way of fulfilling your vow."

He paused, then wrote a single word on the blackboard: "拼" (pīn).

"This one word is enough."

Seven

Chen Mingyuan retired in early March.

The retirement ceremony was held in the school's conference room. It was a simple ceremony attended by only a few teachers. The principal presented Chen Mingyuan with a certificate of honor, a bouquet of flowers, and a red envelope. Chen Mingyuan accepted the certificate and flowers, stood on the stage, and remained silent for a long time.

"I've been teaching for thirty-one years," he finally spoke. "Thirty-one years isn't a long time, but it's not short either. I've gone from a young man in his twenties to an old man."

He smiled, but there was a hint of bitterness in his laughter.

"I've taught over three thousand students. Some went to university, some didn't. Some are doing well, some aren't. But no matter what they're like now, I remember them. I remember how they looked in class, how they asked questions, and how they cried when they graduated."

His voice was choked with emotion. He paused, then took a deep breath.

"I'm retiring today. It's true that I'm reluctant to leave. But everyone has to retire eventually. Now that I'm gone, you young people will take over. The Chinese language teaching group at our school will be in your hands from now on."

He glanced at Lin Zhiyuan. His eyes held trust, entrustment, and expectation.

After the meeting, Lin Zhiyuan escorted Chen Mingyuan to the school gate. Chen Mingyuan was carrying a canvas bag containing his enamel mug, reading glasses, and some books.

"Teacher Chen, let me take you home."

"No need, I can walk by myself." Chen Mingyuan patted him on the shoulder. "Xiao Lin, do a good job. You'll be better than me in the future."

"Teacher Chen, please take care."

"Take care." Chen Mingyuan turned around, took a few steps, then turned back. "By the way, let me know when your students take the college entrance exam. I want to know how they did."

"I will."

Chen Mingyuan nodded, turned, and left. His figure grew smaller and smaller in the setting sun, finally disappearing around the street corner. Lin Zhiyuan stood at the school gate, gazing in that direction, for a long time.

The leaves of the sycamore trees have begun to sprout, a tender green, swaying gently in the spring breeze.

Another spring has arrived.