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

Spring came exceptionally early in 2006.

Spring arrived at the end of January, and by mid-February, the magnolia trees along the street had already sprouted flower buds, fuzzy and like ink-dipped brush tips. Lin Zhiyuan would stop to take a look every day as he passed that street. The buds grew bigger and bigger each day, as if they were about to burst open at any moment.

Su Wanqing's belly grew bigger every day.

She was six months pregnant, and her movements were becoming increasingly difficult. She walked like a penguin, waddling unsteadily. Every time Lin Zhiyuan saw her like this, he wanted to laugh, but he didn't dare. Su Wanqing glared at him: "What are you laughing at?" He said, "I'm not laughing." Su Wanqing said, "Your lips are turned up." He said, "That's just the wind blowing."

One weekend in early March, the two went to the mall to buy baby supplies. Su Wanqing spent a long time choosing, eventually selecting a pink baby outfit, a pair of soft-soled little shoes, and a small blanket. Lin Zhiyuan pushed the shopping cart behind her, watching her carefully compare the price and material of each item, and a warm feeling welled up in his heart.

"Lin Zhiyuan, what name do you think we should give the child?" Su Wanqing asked without looking up, holding a small piece of clothing.

"I haven't decided yet."

"You've been thinking about it for months, and you still haven't made up your mind?"

"I thought of a few, but I wasn't quite satisfied with any of them."

Tell me about it.

"Lin Siqi. Siqi as in 'to emulate the virtuous.'"

Su Wanqing looked up at him, her eyes lighting up: "Lin Siqi. It sounds nice. Both boys and girls can use it."

"You think it's good too?"

"Okay. This is it."

Lin Zhiyuan silently repeated those words in his heart several times. Lin Siqi. He hoped that this child could emulate the virtuous, learn from outstanding people, and become a better person. This was his initial expectation as a father—simple, plain, and perhaps even a little old-fashioned. But he felt that was enough.

Springtime at Yucai Middle School is different from that at the county's No. 1 Middle School. At No. 1 Middle School, spring is the budding of sycamore trees, the blooming of rapeseed flowers, and the smell of earth and grass. At Yucai Middle School, spring is the successive blooming of magnolias, cherry blossoms, and crabapple trees, the neatly trimmed lawns, and the sound of fountains. The flowerbeds beside the playground are planted with flowers of various colors—red, yellow, and purple—like an oil painting.

Lin Zhiyuan stood by the office window, looking at the flowers in the flowerbed below, and suddenly thought of the row of sycamore trees at the county's No. 1 Middle School. Those trees should be sprouting by now. He took out his phone and sent a text message to Wang Jianguo: "Old Wang, have the sycamore trees at the county's No. 1 Middle School sprouted yet?"

A while later, Wang Jianguo replied: "It's out. You've been approved. How are you doing in the city?"

"It's alright. My wife is pregnant and will be giving birth soon."

"Really? Congratulations! Boy or girl?"

"I don't know. I haven't checked."

"You're the kind of person who just goes with the flow. Tell me when the baby is born, and I'll come to the city to see you."

Lin Zhiyuan smiled and put his phone in his pocket. He turned back to his desk, picked up his red pen, and continued grading homework. This semester, he teaches two classes and has to grade more than a hundred essays every week, writing comments on each one. He's writing more carefully than before because this is his first full semester at Yucai School, and he wants every student to feel his dedication.

Chen Hao's Chinese language score improved. From 72 points at the end of last semester, it rose to 81 points in the first monthly exam this semester. Although still near the bottom of the class, at least he passed. Lin Zhiyuan praised him in class, and he lowered his head shyly, his ears as red as boiled shrimp.

"Teacher Lin, I can get even higher scores," he said to Lin Zhiyuan after class.

How many points can you get?

"Ninety points."

"Then you should keep it up."

"I will. You tutor me every Wednesday, I can't let you waste your time."

Lin Zhiyuan patted him on the shoulder without saying a word. Sometimes, he felt that the greatest satisfaction for a teacher wasn't how high a student's score was, but that the student had started to care. Chen Hao used to not care about Chinese, but now he did. This change was more important than any score.

In mid-March, Lin Zhiyuan returned to the county town.

This trip was specifically to visit Chen Mingyuan. Wang Jianguo said Chen Mingyuan wasn't feeling well and was hospitalized. After receiving the news, Lin Zhiyuan took leave the next day and took the bus back to the county town.

Chen Mingyuan was staying in the internal medicine ward of the county hospital. When Lin Zhiyuan pushed open the door, he was leaning against the bed reading a newspaper, wearing reading glasses, his hair was completely white, and the wrinkles on his face were much deeper than before he retired.

"Teacher Chen."

Chen Mingyuan looked up, saw him, paused for a moment, then smiled: "Xiao Lin? What brings you here?"

"I've come to see you. I heard you were hospitalized."

"It's nothing serious, just high blood pressure. The doctor said to stay for a few days for observation." Chen Mingyuan put down the newspaper, took off his reading glasses, and said, "Sit down, don't stand."

Lin Zhiyuan sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at Chen Mingyuan. His complexion was not good; it was sallow, and his lips were almost bloodless. But his eyes were still bright, and his voice was still full of energy.

"Teacher Chen, please take care of yourself."

"I know. You are too. I heard your wife is pregnant?"

"Yes. Born in June."

"Great, great!" Chen Mingyuan nodded repeatedly. "Becoming a father completes my life."

The two chatted about school for a while. Chen Mingyuan asked how the schools in the city were, and Lin Zhiyuan said they were alright, the students were harder to manage than those in the county, but more challenging. Chen Mingyuan laughed: "You're the kind of person who gets more excited by challenges. This suits you."

As Lin Zhiyuan left, Chen Mingyuan held his hand and said, "Xiao Lin, you are the student I'm most proud of among all the students I've taught. Not because you're so capable, but because you're down-to-earth. For a teacher, being down-to-earth is the most important thing."

Lin Zhiyuan's eyes welled up with tears. He held Chen Mingyuan's hand; the hand was thin and cold, with distinct knuckles.

"Teacher Chen, you will always be my teacher."

One evening in early April, Lin Zhiyuan was preparing lessons in his office when his phone suddenly rang.

It's Su Wanqing.

"Lin Zhiyuan, my stomach hurts." Her voice was very tense.

"Is she about to give birth? Wasn't her due date still a month away?"

"I don't know...it hurts so much..."

Lin Zhiyuan's heart clenched. He threw down his pen, rushed out of his office, hailed a taxi at the school gate, and headed straight for the hospital.

Su Wanqing had already been taken to the delivery room by her colleagues. When Lin Zhiyuan arrived, the delivery room door was closed, and the red light above it was on. He stood in the corridor, his palms sweaty and his legs trembling. He paced back and forth in front of the delivery room, circling it again and again, countless times.

"Lin Zhiyuan." A nurse came out of the delivery room. "Your wife told you not to be nervous, she's fine."

Lin Zhiyuan paused for a moment, then smiled. Even in her condition, Su Wanqing was still worried about him.

The delivery room door finally opened. A nurse came out carrying a swaddled baby: "Congratulations, it's a girl."

Lin Zhiyuan's hands trembled as he looked at the tiny, wrinkled little thing with its eyes closed. He took the small package; it felt weightless. The baby's face was red and wrinkled, like a little old man. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth opened and closed, as if searching for milk.

"Lin Siqi," he called softly.

The baby didn't react. She was still asleep, and perhaps dreaming of something, the corner of her mouth slightly turned up.

Su Wanqing was wheeled out. Her face was pale, and her hair was soaked, plastered to her forehead. But she was smiling, and her smile was beautiful.

"Did you see that?" she asked.

"I see. It looks like you."

"How do you look like me? You look exactly like you, you're so ugly."

"Not ugly. It's beautiful."

Su Wanqing smiled, reached out, and took his hand. Her hand was cold and weak. Lin Zhiyuan held those hands for a long time.

Lin Zhiyuan called his mother. His mother cried on the other end of the phone, and his father said, "Why are you crying?" His mother said, "I'm happy." His father said, "If you're happy, then laugh." The two of them argued for a few more minutes, and then laughed together.

He then sent Wang Jianguo a text message: "Given birth. Girl. Mother and daughter are safe."

Wang Jianguo replied instantly: "Congratulations! Have you chosen a name yet?"

"Lin Siqi".

"Great name. I'll come to the city to see you in a few days."

He texted Zhou Haitao: "I'm a father. A girl. Lin Siqi."

Zhou Haitao replied, "Congratulations, Teacher Lin! I'll visit my junior sister when I go back during summer vacation."

Lin Zhiyuan looked at the words on his phone screen and smiled. "Junior Sister." Zhou Haitao called his daughter "Junior Sister." Time flies; Zhou Haitao is already a graduate student at Peking University, and his daughter has just been born. Generation after generation, like a relay baton, it is passed on.

In mid-April, Lin Zhiyuan took paternity leave to take care of Su Wanqing and the baby at home.

He didn't hire a postpartum nanny, nor did he ask his mother to come and help. He wanted to do it himself. He wanted to learn how to be a father.

On the first night, Lin Siqi cried several times. She cried when she was hungry, cried when she wet herself, and cried for no reason at all. Lin Zhiyuan was woken up by her every time, got up, made formula, changed diapers, and held her to comfort her. Su Wanqing said, "You have to go to work tomorrow, let me do it," and he said, "It's okay, you get some rest."

He held his daughter in the living room, gently patting her back, humming a tuneless song. The moon outside the window was round and bright, shining on the floor like a layer of frost. Little Siqi stopped crying, opening her eyes to look at him, her dark, bright eyes like two grapes.

"Do you know me?" he asked softly.

Xiao Siqi, of course, didn't answer. She blinked, yawned, and then closed her eyes again.

Lin Zhiyuan carried her and walked around the living room all night.

The next morning, he went to school with dark circles under his eyes. Wang Jianguo sent him a text message: "How's it feeling to be a dad?"

He replied, "Tired. But worth it."

At the end of May, Lin Zhiyuan took Su Wanqing and their daughter back to the county town.

This was Xiao Siqi's first time returning to her hometown. Lin Zhiyuan's mother held her granddaughter, beaming from ear to ear, repeatedly saying, "She looks just like Zhiyuan when he was little." Su Wanqing smiled beside her, saying nothing.

The father sat on the sofa, looking at his granddaughter, without saying anything, but there were smile lines at the corners of his eyes.

Lin Zhiyuan took Su Wanqing to the county's No. 1 High School. The leaves of the sycamore trees were already very dense, a lush green, rustling in the wind. Students were running on the playground, lap after lap, chasing something, I don't know.

He stood at the school gate, looking at the faded sign, and suddenly remembered five years ago. Five years ago, he walked into this school alone, carrying his luggage, full of ideals and trepidation. Five years later, he returned with his wife and daughter, having become a father, a husband, and a better teacher.

"Lin Zhiyuan, what are you daydreaming about?" Su Wanqing stood next to him, holding her daughter.

"It's nothing. I just feel that time is going by too fast."

"Yes, it's gone by too fast." Su Wanqing looked at the campus. "You've been here for five years, and it's been five years since I met you."

"It's been five years."

"What do you think we'll be like in five years?"

Lin Zhiyuan thought for a moment: "In five years, Siqi will be five years old. We should still be in the city. You should already be an attending physician. I should still be a teacher."

Will you continue to be a teacher?

"meeting."

"You don't regret it?"

No regrets.

Su Wanqing looked at him and smiled. Siqi in her arms also smiled, revealing pink gums. He had no teeth, but he smiled happily.

Looking at his wife and daughter's smiling faces, Lin Zhiyuan suddenly felt that these past five years had been worthwhile.

In mid-June, Lin Zhiyuan received the book sent by Chen Yutong.

It's a collection of short stories, published by the provincial government, featuring outstanding works by young writers from across the province. Chen Yutong's short story, "The Rainy Season Will Never Come Again," was included, occupying more than ten pages. On the title page, she wrote: "Teacher Lin, my first book. Thank you for letting me know that I can continue writing. —Chen Yutong"

Lin Zhiyuan placed the book on the bookshelf, alongside Zhou Haitao's letter, Sun Xiaolei's photo, and Zhao Xiaoman's greeting card. The bookshelf grew increasingly full, and his students became more and more successful. Sometimes he would think that perhaps one day, this bookshelf would be filled with his students' works—novels, poetry collections, academic writings, and teaching notes. Then, he could proudly tell others: "These books were written by my students."

In late June, the results of the college entrance examination were released.

Lin Zhiyuan's first class of students at Yucai High School did well in their exams. The two classes he taught ranked second and third in the grade in average Chinese language scores. Although not first, he was very satisfied. After all, he had only taught them for one year, and raising their grades from the bottom to the top proved his methods were effective.

Chen Hao scored 92 on his Chinese exam, two points higher than his target. He sent Lin Zhiyuan a text message: "Teacher Lin, I passed! Thank you!"

Lin Zhiyuan replied, "You're welcome. It's the result of your own hard work."

Lu Yiming scored 118 on his Chinese exam, placing him among the top ten in his grade. He didn't send Lin Zhiyuan a text message, but he said in the class group chat: "Teacher Lin, thank you for your guidance throughout the year."

Lin Xiaoxi scored 120 on her Chinese exam and 52 on her essay. She wrote a long letter to Lin Zhiyuan, saying, "Teacher Lin, I've decided to apply to the Chinese Literature Department. I want to be a writer. You've shown me my direction."

Lin Zhiyuan felt a warm feeling in his heart as he looked at the text messages and letters.

Summer vacation started in early July.

Lin Zhiyuan took Su Wanqing and their daughter to the beach. This was their first trip as a family of three. Su Wanqing took her annual leave, and Lin Zhiyuan also took leave. They took the train to Xiamen and stayed in a small hotel by the sea, waking up to the sound of the waves every morning.

Lin Zhiyuan stood on the beach, holding his daughter, gazing at the boundless sea. The sea breeze was strong, whipping his hair wildly. It was the first time little Siqi had seen the ocean; her eyes were wide open, her mouth agape, whether from awe or fear, it was hard to tell.

"Siqi, look, this is the ocean," Lin Zhiyuan said.

Little Siqi, of course, didn't understand what the sea was. She just looked at the boundless blue expanse, reaching out a small hand as if trying to reach for something.

Su Wanqing walked over, stood next to him, and took his arm.

"Lin Zhiyuan, how about we come to the beach every year from now on?"

"it is good."

"You can't go back on your word."

"No regrets."

Su Wanqing smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. The setting sun was dyeing the entire sea orange-red, shimmering like it was sprinkled with gold dust.

Lin Zhiyuan, holding his daughter and arm in arm with his wife, stood on the beach, watching the sunset slowly sink below the horizon. At that moment, he felt that all the hardships had been worthwhile. From the county to the city, from teacher to homeroom teacher, from husband to father, he had come this far step by step, each step difficult, but each step firm and steady.

"Su Wanqing".

"Um?"

"Thank you."

"You're here again." Su Wanqing looked up at him. "If you say thank you again, I'll get angry."

"Thank you for giving me a home."

Su Wanqing didn't speak. She buried her face in his shoulder, and the sea breeze blew, blowing her hair across his face. He didn't flinch, letting the strands of hair brush against his cheeks.

On the distant sea, the last rays of the setting sun disappeared. A few clouds remained on the horizon, tinged with purple and pink, like a watercolor painting.

Lin Zhiyuan took a deep breath. The sea breeze was salty, carrying the scent of the ocean. He thought, this must be happiness. Not something grand or earth-shattering, just like this—holding his daughter, arm in arm with his wife, standing on the beach, watching the sun set.

He wanted to remember this moment. No matter what difficulties he encountered in the future, no matter how tired or bitter he was, he would remember this moment. He would remember the smell of the sea breeze, the color of the sunset, the weight of his wife leaning on his shoulder, and the warmth of his daughter in his arms.

This is a moment he will remember for the rest of his life.