A Literary Life Starting from the First Year of High School

On Wednesday morning, when Lin Shubai arrived at the classroom, he found an envelope stuffed in his desk drawer.

It was bulging, and his name was written on the cover with a ballpoint pen. The handwriting was crooked and messy; it was clearly Liu Yang's.

"What is it?" Su Wan leaned closer.

Lin Shubai opened the envelope, and a piece of A4 paper folded into quarters fell out. The paper read:

"Lin Shubai: Given that you lent me your math test last time and copied it quite well (although I corrected two questions wrong), I hereby invite you to attend the first 'Saving Liu Yang's Writing Project' seminar in our class. Time: 12 noon today, Location: Third row of the cafeteria, by the window. Topic: How to get me to write a presentable essay. Attendance is mandatory; those who are absent will bear the consequences. —Liu Yang"

Below is a line of smaller print: "PS: If you don't come, I'll tell others that you copied my math homework."

Su Wan leaned over to look, then covered her mouth and laughed, "Is he threatening you?"

"This note is as good as not writing anything at all." Lin Shubai folded the paper and stuffed it back in.

Are you going or not?

"Go ahead, I've got nothing to do at noon anyway." Lin Shubai stuffed the envelope into the drawer.

Just then, Liu Yang walked in from the doorway, half a steamed bun still in his mouth. He turned around at his seat and mumbled, "Lin Shubai, did you see the invitation in the desk?"

"I've seen it."

"Would you like to join my program?"

"Okay, go."

"That's great!" Liu Yang slammed his hand on the table, causing a piece of filling from a steamed bun to fall out and land right on Su Wan's textbook.

Su Wan's eyes widened: "Liu Yang!"

"I'm so sorry!" Liu Yang quickly reached out to pick it up, his fingers leaving an oil stain on the textbook, which became more and more smudged the more he wiped it.

Su Wan's face turned green.

Lin Shubai pulled a tissue out of his bag and handed it to her, then turned to Liu Yang and said, "Just give her a pack of spicy strips and we'll call it even."

"Okay, okay! I'll buy it tomorrow!" Liu Yang nodded repeatedly.

Su Wan wiped her textbook and snorted, "Two packs."

"Two packs it is then." Liu Yang chuckled and turned back.

After lunch, Lin Shubai arrived at the third row of the cafeteria by the window on time.

Liu Yang had already reserved a seat, with three empty plates and a cup of cola in front of him—the cola was a new item from the cafeteria's convenience store, costing three yuan a cup.

"Come on, come on." Liu Yang pushed the Coke towards Lin Shubai. "I bought it for you."

Lin Shubai glanced at the cola, then at Liu Yang: "When did you become so generous?"

"I need your help." Liu Yang rubbed his hands, looking a little embarrassed. "Um... about the essay, could you take a look at it for me? I wrote one myself, could you check if it's good enough to get by?"

He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his bag and handed it to him with trembling hands.

Lin Shubai took it and saw that the title was "My Role Model".

"I remember you wrote this last time? Why are you writing it again?"

Liu Yang slumped over the table, looking utterly dejected, and said, "Don't even mention it."

"Old Chen rejected my last one, saying it had a 'seriously skewed value system,' and told me to rewrite it and submit it by this Friday. If it still doesn't meet the requirements, he said he'd talk to my dad."

"Talk to your dad? Is it that serious?"

Liu Yang scratched his head and said, "Last time I wrote about how good my cousin is at video games; he can play for three days and three nights straight without blinking."

"You really are..." Lin Shubai was speechless upon hearing this.

"How do I know I can't write about people who play video games as role models?" Liu Yang retorted, unconvinced. "My cousin is really amazing. He got third place in the last internet cafe league and won a case of instant noodles as a prize."

"Fine, so what did you write this time?"

Liu Yang said earnestly, "This time I changed my role model. Take a look and see how it is written this time."

Upon hearing this, Lin Shubai continued reading:

"My role model is Lin Shubai from my class. He's an excellent student; he always gets all the math questions right and writes great essays in Chinese. Every time I ask him a question, he answers patiently (though sometimes he rolls his eyes). He's the smartest person I've ever met, and I want to study hard and improve every day, just like him."

Lin Shubai remained silent for three seconds after reading it.

"What are you writing?"

"I'm writing about you! Aren't you my role model?" Liu Yang said matter-of-factly.

"Okay, but what you wrote sounds too fake." Lin Shubai pointed to the passage, "'He would patiently answer every question I asked him.' When have you ever asked me a question?"

Liu Yang thought for a moment: "Last Tuesday? I asked you if you did your English homework."

That's copying homework, not asking questions.

Almost, almost.

"And this sentence, 'Always get all the math questions right'—I even got two wrong on the one I borrowed from you last time."

Liu Yang scratched his head and asked cautiously, "Shall I revise it?"

"Write about my dad?" Liu Yang's eyes lit up. "That's great! My dad is amazing at fixing bicycles. Last time my chain broke, he fixed it in five minutes!"

"Then write about this." Lin Shubai stood up. "Describe the bicycle repair in detail: how he fixed it, what tools he used, and how you felt at the time. Don't write something like 'Study hard and make progress every day,' that's a slogan, not an essay."

Liu Yang listened and nodded, then picked up a pen to write on the manuscript paper: "Repair bicycles...be detailed...don't write slogans..."

Lin Shubai glanced at him, a little helpless: "Just write normally, describe how your dad fixed the car, and add a sentence or two about your feelings, that's enough."

"It's that simple?"

"It's that simple. You could write 500 words about your cousin playing video games last time, but you can't write one about your dad fixing cars?"

Liu Yang thought for a moment, then chuckled, "That's true."

Liu Yang suddenly stopped writing, looked up at Lin Shubai, and said, "Hey, do you think it's too ordinary for me to write about my dad fixing cars? Everyone else's essays are about things like 'My father is a superhero' or 'My mother is an angel,' and I'm just writing about fixing bicycles. Does that sound a bit low-class?"

"It's not lowbrow at all; repairing bicycles is more realistic than Superman," Lin Shubai said.

Liu Yang paused for a moment, then grinned: "Okay, then I'll write 'repairing bicycles'."

He buried his head in writing for a while, then looked up and asked, "Shubai, how do you write the characters for 'spokes'?"

Liu Yang continued writing, then suddenly stopped, looked up, and said, "Hey, when I write about my dad repairing cars, could I start with 'My dad is an ordinary car mechanic'?"

"Can."

"Then he wrote that although he wasn't very educated, his craftsmanship was exceptional—"

"Don't write 'although but'," Lin Shubai said.

Why?

"The fact that you use 'although but' shows that you still think car mechanics are inferior. Just say that he is skilled, no need for preamble."

Liu Yang paused for a moment, then nodded and crossed out "although".

About twenty minutes later, Liu Yang handed over the manuscript paper: "I'm done writing. Can you take a look at it for me?"

Lin Shubai took it and read it from beginning to end.

The story, over six hundred words long, describes how his father helped him fix his bicycle chain. It begins by saying that the chain broke, and he pushed his bike home while his father was eating dinner. His father put down his chopsticks and came out to check, squatting down and turning the wheel, touching the broken part with his hand, and saying, "It's nothing."

Then, he wrote that his dad took out the toolbox and asked him to help him shine the flashlight. While repairing the car, his dad taught him to identify the tools: "This is an adjustable wrench, and this is a box wrench. Don't get them mixed up." Finally, he wrote that the car was fixed, and he rode it around for a while. He looked back and saw his dad standing at the door wiping his hands, which were covered in black engine oil, but he was smiling happily.

It's so much better than the previous one.

"That's fine, just correct a couple of typos and you can hand it in." Lin Shubai handed the manuscript back to him.

"Really?" Liu Yang's eyes lit up.

"Really, why would I lie to you? What you wrote is so realistic, a hundred times better than what you wrote about me. If Old Chen still doesn't like it, I'll treat you to chicken legs for a week."

"No need, no need." Liu Yang carefully folded the manuscript paper, stuffed it into his backpack, then leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh. "Finally done. You have no idea, I thought about it all night last night, and I even pulled out several strands of hair. Last time when Old Chen said he would talk to my dad, my legs went weak."

"Your legs will go weak?"

"Of course! If my dad knew I was like this at school, he'd break my legs." Liu Yang touched his knee. "You haven't seen how my dad fixes cars; he's incredibly fierce when he swings the wrench."

Lin Shubai smiled and said, "Then you'd better do a good job this time and don't let him swing the wrench."

"Absolutely." Liu Yang stood up, patted his pants, and said, "Let's go, I have English class this afternoon."

The two emerged from the cafeteria into the bright sunshine. Several boys were playing soccer on the playground, their shouts carrying from afar.

Liu Yang walked ahead, then turned around after a few steps: "Shu Bai."

"Um?"

"Thank you."

"What are you thanking me for?"

"Well..." Liu Yang scratched his head, "What you just said. What 'no need for although but' and what 'eyes are sharp'." He said seriously for once, "I originally thought it was embarrassing to write about my dad repairing cars, but after you said it like that, I don't think it's so embarrassing."

"There's nothing shameful about it."

Liu Yang chuckled and quickened his pace.

When I got out of school in the evening.

Liu Yang caught up from behind: "Shubai, bring two bags of spicy strips to Su Wan tomorrow. Could you give them to her for me? I'm afraid she'll scold me again."

"Give it to her yourself."

"I dare not."

"What's there to be afraid of?"

Liu Yang said with a bitter face, "When she glares at people, her eyes are especially round, like copper bells."

Lin Shubai thought about Su Wan's glare—eyes wide open, eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed into a thin line. To be honest, she did look a bit fierce.

"...Okay, I'll get it for you."

"That's great!" Liu Yang patted him on the shoulder and jogged away.

Su Wan walked up from behind and saw Liu Yang's retreating figure: "What did he say to you?"

"I'll bring you back some spicy strips tomorrow."

"He's smart to know his place," Su Wan snorted, then asked, "How was lunch?"

"I looked at his essay. Old Chen told him to rewrite it; his previous one, about his cousin playing video games, got him 20 points."

Su Wan couldn't help but laugh: "He really wrote that his cousin plays video games?"

"I wrote it down, and it also said that my cousin got third place in the internet cafe league and won a box of instant noodles as a prize."

"This is outrageous. Old Chen is being very polite by not calling his parents." Su Wan shook her head with a laugh.

"That's why he's so anxious today, afraid that Old Chen will talk to his father."

Su Wan nodded: "So you helped him take a look? How was it?"

"He wrote it himself, and I only gave him some suggestions. It's about his dad repairing bicycles, and it's quite well written."

"His dad repairs bicycles?"

"Um."

Su Wan paused for a moment, then said, "He never mentions what his father does."

"I know."

The two walked to the bus stop, and the bus arrived just then. As usual, there were no seats, so they stood by the back door holding onto the handrail.

Su Wan suddenly said, "Did you know that Liu Yang only scored in the forties on his Chinese test last semester?"

"So many?"

"He went off-topic in his essays and got all his reading comprehension questions wrong. But he wasn't worried; he was always laughing and joking."

"He has a good attitude."

"It's thick-skinned," Su Wan corrected.

Lin Shubai smiled.

The street scene outside the car window flashed by: neon lights, GG signs, and hurried pedestrians. A beautiful orange-red sunset glowed on the horizon.

Su Wan followed his gaze and said, "The weather is nice today."

"Um."

"Have you finished revising that essay?"

"I'll revise it again when I get home tonight, and it should be about right."

"Should we hand it over to Old Chen tomorrow?"

"Um."

Su Wan nodded and said nothing more.

The bus arrived at the stop, and the two got off. It was already dark, and the streetlights in the neighborhood came on, casting an orange glow on the ground.

As she reached Su Wan's doorstep, she turned back and said, "Don't forget to remind me to bring the umbrella back to Liu Yang tomorrow."

"Didn't you say you'd remember?"

"I remember! It's just... I'm afraid I'll forget."

When I got home, Wang Xiulan was cooking in the kitchen, and the roar of the range hood drowned out the sound of the television.

"Wash your hands before eating."

Lin Shubai responded and changed into slippers.

In the living room, Wang Xiulan had already set the dishes on the table: braised ribbonfish, stir-fried vegetables, and seaweed and egg drop soup. Lin Jianguo sat at the table, chopsticks in hand, waiting for him.

"What are you standing there for? Eat." Lin Jianguo said.

Lin Shubai walked over and sat down, picking up a piece of ribbonfish with his chopsticks.

"dad."

"Um?"

"How long did you wait in line to buy me bread at the train station that year?"

Lin Jianguo paused, his chopsticks hovering in mid-air: "What train station? What bread?"

"It was the first time I traveled far away alone, you took me to Hangzhou."

Lin Jianguo thought for a moment, smiled, and asked, "That was so long ago. Why are you suddenly asking about this?"

"I just remembered to ask."

"How long did you wait in line..." Lin Jianguo frowned, recalling the moment, then continued, "Pretty long, I think. There were so many people, it was really crowded. What happened?"

"Nothing much." Lin Shubai lowered his head and took a bite of rice. "I just remembered that the bread wasn't actually very good."

Lin Jianguo laughed out loud: "If it wasn't good, why did you finish it?"

Are you hungry?

"So you still remember this?" Lin Jianguo shook his head, picked up a piece of ribbonfish and put it in Lin Shubai's bowl. "Eat fish, don't just think about those other things."

Lin Shubai looked at the ribbonfish in the bowl, smiled, and said nothing more.