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

一

On the first day of September 2003, Lin Zhiyuan stood on the podium of Class 6, Grade 1, facing a group of unfamiliar faces.

These children are younger than the previous generation. Born in 1987 and 1988, their memories of the early 1990s are hazy. They've heard of Teresa Teng, but haven't actually heard of her; they know the Little Tigers, but prefer F4. They possess a quality that Lin Zhiyuan isn't quite familiar with yet—more confident, but also more bewildered; more precocious, but also more naive.

"My name is Lin Zhiyuan, and I'm your Chinese teacher and homeroom teacher." He wrote his name and phone number on the blackboard. "We'll be together for the next three years. I hope you'll enjoy Chinese class. If you don't, that's okay too, as long as you don't hate me."

The students below laughed. Several girls exchanged glances and whispered among themselves. A boy sat in the third row, his hair dyed a striking yellow, standing out among the sea of ​​black hair. Lin Zhiyuan glanced at him but said nothing.

This is the new class of first-year high school students. They will experience three years completely different from the previous class. But at this moment, everything is just beginning.

After class, Lin Zhiyuan returned to his office. Shen Ruohan was organizing her lesson plans. Seeing him come in, she looked up and asked, "How's the new class?"

"Not bad. They seem more lively than the last batch."

Is being outgoing good or bad?

"It depends on how you manage it." Lin Zhiyuan sat down and took a sip of water. "If managed well, it's a good thing; if managed poorly, it's just trouble."

Shen Ruohan smiled. She looked better than last semester; she was still thin, but her eyes weren't as dark. Lin Zhiyuan didn't know her marital status and didn't ask. Some things are better left unasked as a sign of respect.

"Ms. Lin, which class is Zhou Haitao, your student who is repeating a year, in?"

"Science-focused repeat class, Class 3."

"Are you still helping him?"

"If he comes to me, I'll help him. If he doesn't come to me, I won't take the initiative. He needs to be independent."

Shen Ruohan nodded: "You seem soft-hearted, but you can be quite ruthless sometimes."

"As a teacher, you can't be soft when you need to be firm."

two

Zhou Haitao's year of repeating a grade began on September 1st.

The science-focused repeat class was on the fourth floor. The classroom was older than the new first-year high school classrooms downstairs, and the desks and chairs were also quite old. The forty-five repeat students were mostly students who had failed their college entrance exams at various schools in the county, with some returning from the city. They all shared a common expression—unwillingness to accept defeat.

Zhou Haitao sat in the second-to-last row by the window. He had chosen this spot himself, not the last row. He told himself that this year he wouldn't hide in a corner anymore. He wanted to sit closer to the front, closer to the blackboard, and closer to his goal.

The homeroom teacher of the repeat class, surnamed Li, taught math. He was in his forties, spoke loudly, and had a bad temper. On the first day of class, he was very blunt: "You are all people who failed the exam last year. If you don't pass this year, don't call yourself my student. I don't have students that shameful."

The classroom was quiet. No one thought what they said was excessive. Students repeating a year don't need comfort; they need stimulation.

Zhou Haitao summarized the lessons learned from last year. English was his biggest weakness, scoring only 78 points last year. Math wasn't good either, scoring 112 points, still a long way from excellent. He did score over 120 points in Chinese, placing him in the top 5% in the province, but that didn't create a significant difference in his score. The real drags down his overall score were in math and English.

He devised a new study plan: wake up at 5:30 every morning to memorize English vocabulary until 7:00. Attend classes during the day and do practice problems until 11:00 at night. Complete one full set of past English and one set of past math exam papers every weekend. He followed this plan without fail.

Sometimes after evening self-study, Lin Zhiyuan would take a walk around the teaching building and see that the light was still on in that classroom on the fourth floor. He didn't even need to go in to know that Zhou Haitao must be inside. That thin figure, buried in a pile of books, looked like a tireless ox.

He didn't go up to disturb them. He just stood downstairs for a while, then turned and walked away.

three

One day in mid-September, Lin Zhiyuan received a letter.

The envelope was addressed to "Teacher Lin Zhiyuan, No. 1 Middle School of Anyuan County," and the return address was a university in the provincial capital. He opened the envelope and found two photos and a letter inside.

The first photo is of Sun Xiaolei and Zhao Xiaoman posing together at the entrance of a university in the provincial capital. Both are wearing military training uniforms, their faces tanned dark, and they're smiling broadly, revealing their white teeth. Sun Xiaolei is a little heavier than she was in high school, and Zhao Xiaoman is a little thinner, but both look very energetic, with a familiar light in their eyes that Lin Zhiyuan recognizes.

The second photo is of Liu Qiang. He's standing in an unfamiliar campus, with a gray-white teaching building behind him. He's wearing a new T-shirt, his hair is short, one hand is in his pocket, and the other is making a V-sign. On the back of the photo is written: "Teacher Lin, I'm in college! — Liu Qiang"

The letter was written by Sun Xiaolei, and her handwriting was still so neat:

"Teacher Lin: We're doing well at university. The provincial university is huge, more than ten times bigger than our school. I got lost on my first day here and wandered around for ages trying to find my dorm. Zhao Xiaoman said she did too. We live in the same building now, but on different floors, and we often eat together."

"Liu Qiang called us a few days ago and said that although his school is not big, the teachers are very good. He said he runs every day and has lost more than ten kilograms. He asked us to let you know that he will treat you to a meal when he goes back for winter vacation."

"Chen Yutong went to the Provincial Normal University, which isn't far from us. She came to visit us a few days ago, saying that there were so many books in the Chinese Literature Department that she couldn't possibly read them all. She also mentioned that her novel won second prize in a provincial essay competition. We were all very happy."

"Ms. Lin, how are you feeling? Don't overwork yourself. Are the new students obedient? Are they as annoying as we were back then?"

"Wishing you all the best. Your students: Sun Xiaolei, Zhao Xiaoman, Liu Qiang, Chen Yutong."

Lin Zhiyuan read the letter twice, then tucked the photos under the glass on his desk. Whenever he felt tired, he would look up at the photos. Seeing those smiling faces made him feel a little less weary.

four

Early October, National Day.

Lin Zhiyuan went back to his hometown. His mother cooked his favorite dishes, and his father opened a bottle of wine. The family sat around the table, watching the National Day Gala on TV; it was quite lively.

"Zhiyuan, how's that student at your school who's repeating a year doing?" his mother asked.

"Which one?"

"It's the one you mentioned, from Tangcun Township, the one whose family is very poor."

"Zhou Haitao. He's still repeating his senior year. He's working very hard."

The mother sighed, "This child has had a tough time. You should help him more."

"I know."

The father put down his chopsticks and looked at Lin Zhiyuan: "You can help, but don't ruin your health. Look at how thin you've become."

"I'm fine."

"You always say that," the father said, picking up his glass and taking a sip. "When is your wife going to give you a child?"

Lin Zhiyuan was taken aback: "Dad, we've only been married for less than a year."

"So what if it's less than a year? Your dad had you six months after we got married."

The mother laughed beside her, "Don't rush the kids. They're young people; they have their own plans."

Lin Zhiyuan remained silent. He and Su Wanqing had indeed discussed having children. Su Wanqing had said she wanted to wait until he finished teaching this year's graduating class before having another child. She said, "You're so busy right now, you wouldn't be able to take care of a child anyway. Let's have another one after this year's graduating class."

He thought it made sense, so he didn't bring it up again.

Back in the county town, he went to find Su Wanqing. Su Wanqing had just finished her night shift and was so sleepy she could barely keep her eyes open. He took her back to her dormitory and cooked her a bowl of noodles.

"Have you lost weight again recently?" Su Wanqing asked, eating noodles as she looked at him.

"no."

"You said last time that you hadn't lost five pounds. Now you say you haven't lost any more, but I see you've lost even more weight."

Lin Zhiyuan smiled but did not refute.

"Lin Zhiyuan, I need to talk to you about something." Su Wanqing put down her chopsticks. "I want to be transferred to the city."

Lin Zhiyuan was taken aback: "Why?"

"There's too little room for advancement at the county hospital. I want to go to a big hospital in the city where I can learn more. And..." she hesitated for a moment, "the educational resources in the city are better. It will also be better for the children's education in the future."

Lin Zhiyuan remained silent for a long time. He knew Su Wanqing was right. The county hospital's conditions were indeed limited, and for a doctor who had graduated from medical school, staying there for too long would slow down her professional skill development. Going to the city would definitely be better for her career development.

However, the city is more than an hour's drive from the county seat. If he stays in the county to teach and Su Wanqing goes to work in the city, the two will have to live apart.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I'm just discussing this with you," Su Wanqing said, looking at him. "If you don't agree, I won't go."

Lin Zhiyuan took her hand. Her hand was cold, her nails were cut short, and the tips of her fingers were rough from washing her hands for a long time.

"Go ahead," he said. "I support you."

"And what about you?"

"I'm still in the county town. Once you've established yourself, I'll find a way to transfer you there."

Su Wanqing's eyes reddened. She lowered her head and buried her face in his hands.

"Lin Zhiyuan, you're always like this. You always put others first in everything."

"You're my wife. If I don't think about you, who will?"

五

In mid-October, Chen Yutong's novel was published.

It wasn't in any major publication, but in the school magazine of the provincial normal university. The editor of the magazine read her manuscript, thought it was good, and selected more than 10,000 words to publish. The day Chen Yutong received the sample copy, she called Lin Zhiyuan.

"Teacher Lin, my novel has been published." Her voice trembled.

"congratulations."

"You helped me revise it. I couldn't have written it without you."

"You wrote it yourself. I just offered some suggestions."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. Then Chen Yutong said, "Teacher Lin, I've been writing something new lately. It's about... a story about a teacher and a student."

Lin Zhiyuan held his phone, a feeling he couldn't quite describe welling up inside him.

"Write well," he said. "Show me when you're done."

"it is good."

After hanging up the phone, Lin Zhiyuan sat in his office for a long time. He thought of Chen Yutong in her first year of high school—sleeping on her desk, saying "life is tiring," sitting alone in the garden watching the stars. Three years had passed, and she had changed. She no longer said "life is tiring." She was writing novels, publishing them, and becoming the person she wanted to be.

He shared the good news with Su Wanqing. Su Wanqing said, "Your student will definitely become a writer in the future."

"Maybe."

"If she really becomes a writer, you will be her mentor."

Lin Zhiyuan smiled but didn't reply. He didn't care if she was his mentor. What he cared about was that she had found her own path.

六

In November, the midterm exams took place.

Zhou Haitao's results are in; he ranked fifth in the repeat class. He scored 91 in English, an improvement of 13 points from last year. He scored 120 in math, an improvement of 8 points from last year. His total score improved by 30 points compared to last year's college entrance exam score.

He showed the report card to Lin Zhiyuan. After reading it, Lin Zhiyuan nodded: "Great progress. Keep up the good work."

"Teacher Lin, do I have a chance of passing the exam this year?"

"able."

Zhou Haitao's eyes lit up for a moment, but then quickly dimmed again: "But the admission score for the Provincial Normal University is rising every year. Last year it was 543, and this year it might be even higher."

"Just get a higher score. Don't worry about the cutoff score."

Zhou Haitao folded the report card and put it in his pocket. He stood up, walked to the door, and then stopped.

"Teacher Lin, is Teacher Su going to work in the city?"

How did you know?

"I heard about it." Zhou Haitao hesitated for a moment. "Teacher Lin, are you also going to the city?"

Lin Zhiyuan hadn't expected him to ask that. He thought for a moment and said, "Not for now. My students are here."

Zhou Haitao looked at him, his eyes filled with something indescribable. He didn't say anything more, turned around and left.

Seven

December, the first snow.

This year's snow came a little later than last year, but it was heavier. Overnight, the entire county town turned white. Lin Zhiyuan stood by his dormitory window, looking at the snow outside, and suddenly remembered this time last year.

At this time last year, Chen Mingyuan was sitting across from him drinking tea. This year, Chen Mingyuan has retired and is taking care of his grandson at home. At this time last year, Zhou Haitao was still buried in his homework in the classroom of Senior Three (5). This year, he is doing the same thing in the repeat class on the fourth floor. At this time last year, Chen Yutong was still talking about Sanmao in the literary society. This year, she is studying Hai Zi in the Chinese Department of the Provincial Normal University.

time flies.

He put on his coat and left the dormitory. Several students were having a snowball fight on the playground, their laughter carrying far. He walked to the foot of the teaching building and glanced up at the fourth-floor window. The light in the cram school classroom was still on, and through the window, he could vaguely see a figure with their head down.

He stood there for a while, then turned and left.

When he reached the school gate, he ran into Wang Jianguo. Wang Jianguo was wearing a military overcoat, his neck was hunched, and he was holding a hot water bottle.

"Zhiyuan, did you go see that student who's repeating a year?"

"I didn't go up. I just looked around downstairs."

"You," Wang Jianguo shook his head, "if you care about him, go upstairs. What's the point of watching from downstairs?"

"I don't want to bother him."

"You're overthinking it." Wang Jianguo switched the hot water bottle to his other hand. "By the way, has your wife's transfer to the city been finalized?"

"It's settled. I'll be leaving next month."

"So what will you do from now on?"

"We'll meet on weekends. We'll call each other during the week."

Wang Jianguo sighed: "That's how it is when you're a teacher. You can't even take care of your wife and kids."

Lin Zhiyuan didn't speak. He looked up at the sky. The snow was still falling, fine and dense, landing on his face, cool and refreshing. He remembered what Su Wanqing had said—"You're always like this. You always think of others first."

Maybe she's right. But he can't change.

Eight

December 24th, Christmas Eve.

Lin Zhiyuan went to the city. He took a bus for nearly two hours to reach Su Wanqing's new residence—a small but very clean rented room near the hospital.

When Su Wanqing came home from get off work, she saw him waiting at the door. She was stunned for a moment, then ran over and hugged him.

"Why are you here?"

Today is Christmas Eve.

"Didn't you say you were busy this week and couldn't come?"

"Just kidding. I wanted to surprise you."

Su Wanqing buried her face in his chest, remaining silent. Lin Zhiyuan held her, feeling her trembling. It wasn't because of the cold; he didn't ask what it was for.

The two ate a simple dinner in the rented room. Su Wanqing cooked hot pot and bought some lamb rolls and vegetables. The pot was bubbling and steaming, while the wind was blowing outside the window.

"Lin Zhiyuan."

"Um?"

Do you miss me?

"think."

How much do you want to?

"I thought about how I traveled two hours to see you."

Su Wanqing smiled. Her smile was still so beautiful, with her shallow dimples and crescent-shaped eyes. Lin Zhiyuan looked at her and suddenly felt that distance might not be a problem. As long as two people have each other in their hearts, no distance is too great.

After dinner, the two sat by the window watching the snow. The snow in the city wasn't as heavy as in the county town; it melted as soon as it hit the ground, leaving the ground wet and reflecting the streetlights.

"Lin Zhiyuan, tell me, where will we be in the future?"

"What do you mean, 'after'?"

"Later. When I'm old."

Where do you want to be?

Su Wanqing thought for a moment: "Wherever you are."

Lin Zhiyuan reached out and took her hand. Both of their hands were warm, and when they clasped together, it felt like two flames meeting.

The snow outside the window was still falling, not heavily, but fine and dense, like a thin veil. In the distance, the clock tower rang its bells, once, twice, three times, twelve times in total.

Christmas Eve has passed. Christmas Day is here.