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

一

Three days after the college entrance examination ended, Lin Zhiyuan cleaned the classroom thoroughly.

The desks and chairs were neatly arranged, the blackboard eraser was clean, and the windowsill was wiped clean. He took the curtains down, took them home to wash, and then brought them back to hang them up. Sunlight shone through the washed curtains, the light much softer, falling on the desks like a thin layer of golden gauze.

He walked around the classroom, touching this desk and that chair. The desk where He Xiaohe had sat was smooth and shiny from her constant rubbing—marks left by countless hours of writing and turning pages over three years. He sat in that chair for a while, imagining her sitting there, engrossed in her work. Her ponytail hung over her shoulders, her pen scratching on the paper, occasionally glancing up, her brow furrowed as she looked at his writing on the blackboard.

He stood up, walked out of the classroom, and locked the door. The corridor was quiet, and the doors to the other classrooms were also locked. The entire school building was empty, like an abandoned ship. He walked down the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway, each beat like a heartbeat.

What followed was a long wait. The results wouldn't be released until June 23rd, and those ten-odd days in between were agonizing for both students and teachers.

He Xiaohe returned to the county town. Her grandmother was still hospitalized, and she went to the hospital to take care of her. Every night, she would send Lin Zhiyuan a text message, telling him about her grandmother's condition, what she had seen at the hospital, and sometimes expressing her unease.

"Teacher Lin, today at the hospital I saw an old lady arguing with her daughter. The old lady said, 'Aren't you just hoping I die sooner?' The daughter cried. I watched from the side and cried too. I miss my mom."

Lin Zhiyuan replied, "Your mother is thinking of you too. Take good care of Grandma, and take good care of yourself as well."

"Teacher Lin, do you think I can pass the exam?"

"able."

How did you know?

"Because I believe in you."

She replied with a smiley face and didn't ask any more questions.

two

During the waiting period, Lin Zhiyuan spent his time on two things: spending time with his daughter and organizing his teaching notes from over the years.

Xiao Siqi is four years old and is in the middle class of kindergarten. Every day when she comes home from kindergarten, she chatters on and on about what happened that day—who took her toy, who fell and cried, and how the teacher taught her a new song that she sang to her dad.

"Dad, are you listening?"

"listen."

Little Siqi stood in the middle of the living room, hands behind her back, her little belly sticking out, and began to sing. Her voice wasn't loud, but her pitch was excellent, and her pronunciation was clear. After she finished singing, she bowed, looking quite respectable.

"You sang really well." Lin Zhiyuan clapped.

"Dad, your clapping is too small. It needs to be bigger."

Lin Zhiyuan clapped harder, his hands turning red. Xiao Siqi nodded in satisfaction and ran to find her mother.

Su Wanqing poked her head out from the kitchen: "What are you two doing? Making such a racket."

"Siqi sang for me."

"She just likes to show off in front of you. She never sings when I'm around."

"Because you're the mother, and you're too fierce."

"Where did I go wrong?" Su Wanqing glared at him.

Lin Zhiyuan smiled. He cherished moments like these—ordinary, mundane, without dramatic ups and downs or thrills, just the family together, eating, talking, and singing. These moments were especially precious during the days of waiting for the results.

three

Zhou Haitao arrived on June 15th.

He came back from Beijing, saying that school was on summer vacation and he wanted to visit. He was a bit more robust than before, his skin was tanned, and his voice was more steady. He was wearing a white T-shirt and carrying a backpack, standing downstairs at Lin Zhiyuan's house, looking like an ordinary college student returning home.

"Teacher Lin," he called out with a smile.

Lin Zhiyuan leaned out from the balcony, saw him, paused for a moment, then laughed: "Why didn't you call ahead?"

"I wanted to give you a surprise."

Lin Zhiyuan went downstairs and stopped at the entrance of the building. Zhou Haitao stood there, half a head taller than him, with broader shoulders, a straighter back, and a different look in his eyes. The timidity and evasiveness of before were gone, replaced by a calm and resolute light.

"You've grown up," Lin Zhiyuan said.

"I'm already twenty-six," Zhou Haitao laughed. "It would be unreasonable if I didn't grow up by now."

The two went upstairs. Su Wanqing opened the door, paused for a moment when she saw Zhou Haitao, and then warmly invited him in. Xiao Siqi ran out of the room, hid behind Lin Zhiyuan, and peeked out, looking curiously at the stranger.

"Siqi, call him brother," Lin Zhiyuan said.

"Hello, brother." Xiao Siqi's voice was soft, like a mosquito's buzz.

Zhou Haitao squatted down and took out a plush toy from his bag. It was a little panda: "Siqi, this is a gift from your brother."

Xiao Siqi looked at the toy, then at Lin Zhiyuan. Lin Zhiyuan nodded, and she took it, hugged it to her chest, whispered "Thank you, brother," and ran back to her room.

"She's a little shy," Lin Zhiyuan said.

"Just like when I was a child," Zhou Haitao said.

The two sat down in the living room, and Su Wanqing went to the kitchen to pour tea. Zhou Haitao looked around the small house, his gaze sweeping over the bookshelves, the desk, and the photos hanging on the wall.

"Teacher Lin, how are you doing?"

"It's fine. How about you?"

"It's alright." Zhou Haitao lowered his head. "It's just that sometimes I think about the past. Back in the county's No. 1 High School, watching you grade homework in your dormitory, telling you on the playground that I wanted to go to university. Those days seem like they were just yesterday."

Lin Zhiyuan didn't speak. He, too, recalled those days. The dilapidated dormitory, the creaking bed boards, the leaky roof. He sat there grading papers, Zhou Haitao sat beside him reading, neither of them speaking, but neither of them feeling awkward. He had many nights like that, but he remembered most clearly the ones where Zhou Haitao sat with him.

"Professor Lin, I have been admitted to Peking University's doctoral program."

Lin Zhiyuan was taken aback: "Doctor?"

"Yes. I have a PhD in education. My advisor researches rural education. I want to study how to help more rural children get into good universities."

Lin Zhiyuan looked at him, his eyes reddening. This boy from Tangcun Township, this boy who once wore faded T-shirts and dared not even take an extra dish from the cafeteria, had been admitted to Peking University for his doctoral studies. He wanted to research how to help more rural children get into good universities.

"Zhou Haitao, you did a better job than me."

"I couldn't have done it without you."

"You did it. You did it all by yourself."

Zhou Haitao shook his head and didn't say anything more. He lowered his head, and Lin Zhiyuan saw tears in the corners of his eyes.

four

On June 20th, Chen Yutong also arrived from the provincial capital.

She brought a new book. Her second novel had been published, this time not by a publisher near the school, but by a nationally renowned literary and art publisher. She handed the sample copy to Lin Zhiyuan; the cover was an oil painting of a golden wheat field, with a person standing on the edge of the field in the distance, their face obscured.

The inscription on the title page reads: "Teacher Lin, this is my second book. It is also dedicated to you."

Lin Zhiyuan held the book, his hands trembling. He turned to the first page and saw the first sentence: "Many years later, I still remember that afternoon. That thin young man in a white shirt stood on the podium and pronounced 'teacher' as 'same ball'."

He read this and smiled. But as he smiled, tears streamed down his face.

"Chen Yutong, you wrote down my embarrassing moments."

"That's not embarrassing," Chen Yutong said. "That's your most authentic self. A nervous new teacher, someone who makes mistakes, someone who never pretends to be perfect. That's the you we know."

Lin Zhiyuan wiped away his tears, closed the book, and placed it on the bookshelf. The bookshelf was already full, and he had to move some old books to make room for the new ones. Zhou Haitao's letters, Chen Yutong's books, Su Hang's postcards, He Xiaohe's photos—one graduating class after another, one book after another. His bookshelf grew fuller and fuller, and so did his heart.

五

On June 23, the results of the college entrance examination were released.

That morning, Lin Zhiyuan woke up at six o'clock. He sat in front of the computer, refreshing the score checking website again and again. The website was very slow, constantly spinning. His heart was pounding, and his palms were sweaty.

At 7:42, my phone rang. It was He Xiaohe.

"Teacher Lin." Her voice trembled.

"How many?"

"Six hundred and thirty-one points."

Lin Zhiyuan's hand tightened around his phone. 631 points, 67th in the province for liberal arts. That score wasn't enough for Peking University. Peking University's admission cutoff score in the province was usually around 650.

"Teacher Lin, I can't get into Peking University." Her voice was unusually calm.

"He Xiaohe, 631 points is already very good. You're 67th in the province, which means you can get into a very good university."

"But I want to go to Peking University."

Lin Zhiyuan remained silent for a long time. He wanted to say, "You've already done a great job," he wanted to say, "Don't be sad," he wanted to say, "There are many other good universities." But he knew these words would sound meaningless. What she wanted was Peking University, not just "a very good university."

"He Xiaohe, listen to me."

"I'm listening."

"Peking University isn't the only path. You can study hard at other universities, take the postgraduate entrance exam, and then try to get into Peking University. Many students do just that."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. For a very long time.

"Teacher Lin, I know. But I'm still sad."

"If you're sad, then be sad. Don't bottle it up."

"I didn't keep it to myself. I told you, and now I feel much better."

Lin Zhiyuan held his phone, listening to the breathing on the other end. He remembered three years ago, when He Xiaohe first walked into his classroom, wearing a faded school uniform, her eyes shining. She had said she wanted to go to Peking University, and he believed she could get in. She scored 631 points, ranking 67th in the province—a huge success for anyone. But she wasn't satisfied, because she wanted Peking University.

"He Xiaohe, you are one of the best students I have ever taught. No matter which university you go to, you will shine."

"Teacher Lin, you always say that."

"Because I believe."

A soft laugh came from the other end of the phone. It wasn't a happy laugh, but a bittersweet, relieved laugh.

"Thank you, Teacher Lin."

"You're welcome. Choose your universities carefully. Let me know when you're done."

"it is good."

六

On the day she applied to college, He Xiaohe came to the school.

She was wearing a white dress, her hair down over her shoulders. She had grown taller and fairer than she had three years ago, but her eyes were still the same, bright and shining like two stars.

"Teacher Lin, I've applied to a university." She handed him her application form.

Lin Zhiyuan took it and saw that the first choice column read: Beijing Normal University. Department of Chinese Literature.

He looked up at her.

"If I can't get into Peking University, I'll go to Beijing Normal University. Beijing Normal University is also a very good school," He Xiaohe said. "I want to be a teacher in the future. A teacher like you."

Lin Zhiyuan stared at the application form for a long time. He remembered three years ago when He Xiaohe said she wanted to be a teacher. He thought she was just saying it casually, but he never expected her to actually apply to Beijing Normal University. Ranked 67th in the province, she gave up all comprehensive universities and chose a normal university.

"He Xiaohe, have you thought this through?"

"I've made up my mind. Teacher Lin, I won't regret it."

Lin Zhiyuan nodded and handed the application form back to her. She took the form, carefully folded it, and put it in her pocket.

"Teacher Lin, I'm leaving."

"Let's go. Call me when we get to Beijing."

"I will."

She walked to the door, stopped, turned around, and bowed to Lin Zhiyuan. Then she straightened up and left.

Lin Zhiyuan stood by the office window, watching her back as she walked out of the school gate and disappeared into the street. The sunlight shone brightly on her white dress, almost blindingly so.

Seven

On June 30th, the college entrance examination admission process began.

He Xiaohe was admitted to the Chinese Department of Beijing Normal University. It wasn't her first choice, but she was very happy. When she called Lin Zhiyuan, her voice was filled with laughter: "Professor Lin, I got into Beijing Normal University! I can be a teacher now!"

"congratulations."

"Teacher Lin, I will study hard. I'll send you a postcard when I get to Beijing."

"Okay. I'll wait."

After hanging up the phone, Lin Zhiyuan sat in his office, lost in thought for a long time. Outside the window, the sycamore leaves were already thick and green, rustling in the wind. He remembered He Xiaohe's first appearance in the classroom, the determined look in her eyes when she said, "I want to go to Peking University," and the image of her memorizing vocabulary words in the corridor, wearing her faded school uniform. Three years, more than a thousand days and nights, she had transformed from a girl who was too afraid to raise her hand to answer questions into a young woman who had been admitted to Beijing Normal University and aspired to become a teacher.

He stood up, walked to the window, and opened it. A warm breeze rushed in, carrying the earthy smell of the playground. In the distance, several students were running, lap after lap, seemingly chasing something.

Eight

In mid-July, Lin Zhiyuan received a postcard from He Xiaohe in Beijing.

The front of the postcard features the gate of Beijing Normal University, and the back reads: "Dear Professor Lin, I've arrived in Beijing. The campus of Beijing Normal University is vast, and the library has a huge collection of books. I will study hard and become a good teacher in the future, just like you. — He Xiaohe"

Lin Zhiyuan placed the postcards under the glass on his desk, alongside the photos and greeting cards. The area under the glass grew increasingly full, reflecting the growing number of his students, each going their own way. Zhou Haitao studied education at Peking University, Chen Yutong worked as an editor at a provincial publishing house, Su Hang studied education at Tsinghua University, and He Xiaohe studied Chinese literature at Beijing Normal University. They were all forging their own paths, but they had all chosen the same direction—education.

He didn't know if it was a coincidence or inevitable. But he knew that countless children in this country needed teachers like them. Counties needed them, rural areas needed them, and cities needed them. Every child deserved to be seen, and every dream deserved to be protected.

That evening, Lin Zhiyuan sat in his study, opened his diary, and wrote a line: "July 15, 2010, He Xiaohe was admitted to Beijing Normal University. She will become a teacher. More and more of my students are choosing to become teachers."

He closed his diary, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the ceiling. Outside the window, someone was setting off fireworks; with a bang, a golden flower exploded in the air.

Little Siqi ran in and climbed onto his lap: "Daddy, tell me a story."

"What story should I tell?"

"Tell me the story of the Three Little Pigs."

Lin Zhiyuan held his daughter in his arms, opened the fairy tale book, and began to read. He read slowly, word by word. Little Siqi listened attentively, her eyes shining like two stars.

Su Wanqing walked in, sat down on the chair next to him, and listened to him read.

"Dad, I want to go to university too," Xiao Siqi said.

"What university are you going to?"

"Go to Dad's university."

Lin Zhiyuan smiled: "Dad's university wasn't the best. You need to go to a better one."

Which university is the best?

"The best university is the one you like."

Xiao Siqi thought for a moment and said, "Then I want to go to the university where my dad is a teacher."

Lin Zhiyuan paused for a moment, then smiled. He hugged his daughter tighter and kissed her on the forehead.

Fireworks were still going off outside the window, one after another, illuminating the night sky with flickering light.