Chapter 41

At this point, Cheng Xiaoyu, who was already deeply embroiled in rumors, felt no pride in being linked to a beauty. As he got up and walked towards the classroom door, a chorus of teasing voices rose, and even the thick-skinned Cheng Xiaoyu felt somewhat embarrassed. But there was no other way; he could only face the countless gossiping eyes and walk forward with a stiff upper lip. Wang Ou didn't dare to walk with Cheng Xiaoyu at this moment and could only trail far behind.

Before he even reached the stairwell, Gu Man Ting called out to Cheng Xiaoyu, saying that Chinese teacher Jiang Wenhua was looking for him in the office. Only then did Cheng Xiaoyu realize that being a literary copyist could be a bit troublesome.

When Cheng Xiaoyu entered the office, Jiang Wenhua was chatting and laughing with four or five other teachers, who seemed to be from the Chinese language research group. Cheng Xiaoyu hadn't expected such a large gathering, and it was clear that an interrogation was inevitable. He steeled himself and walked over, saying, "Teacher Jiang, did you need me?"

Before Jiang Wenhua could speak, a tall, thin middle-aged man with fashionable medium-length hair and wire-rimmed glasses spoke up, "Is this Cheng Xiaoyu?" He turned to ask Jiang Wenhua.

Jiang Wenhua smiled and said, "Yes, this is Cheng Xiaoyu. Xiaoyu, come over. This is Editor Hu Qingge from the 'Pengpai' magazine, who has come to see you specifically."

Cheng Xiaoyu bowed slightly and said, "Hello, Teacher Jiang, hello to all the teachers, and hello, Editor Hu."

Although Editor Hu was a bit disappointed by Cheng Xiaoyu's appearance, he was so impressed by Cheng Xiaoyu's talent that he immediately walked over and shook Cheng Xiaoyu's hand, saying, "Your poetry is truly excellent, it's a wake-up call that makes one reflect deeply! Poetry has gradually declined in our generation. How long has it been since China has produced a poet who can make people sit up and take notice?"

Cheng Xiaoyu blushed a bit and said, "You flatter me. I just wrote it based on my feelings. I'm just a poetry enthusiast, not a poet."

"Writing such poetry and still not calling yourself a poet, what does it take to be a poet? Is a 'lower body' poet a poet? Is a 'coquettish' poet a poet? Chinese poetry has fallen into a strange circle. It's either shockingly bizarre or filled with flowery language that lacks substance, all of which have abandoned the spirit of poetry. Your poem 'Dreaming of a Horse' is truly excellent!" Hu Qingge said with a sigh, not expecting a high school student to write such a grand and beautiful poem.

Cheng Xiaoyu could only smile bitterly and say, "You didn't come just to praise me, did you?"

Hu Qingge patted Cheng Xiaoyu's shoulder and said, "Please allow me to publish a few of your poems in the latest issue of 'Pengpai,' including the one you wrote for your girlfriend, 'The Farthest Distance in the World.'" He then laughed a few times.

Cheng Xiaoyu felt a bit awkward and said, "Editor Hu, you've misunderstood. Ji Yunyun and I are just ordinary classmates..."

Before he could finish, Hu Qingge interrupted with a laugh, "Don't worry. Your teacher Jiang is an old classmate of mine. His wife is also a high school classmate of ours. He started dating earlier than you. As the saying goes, if the top beam is crooked, the lower beams will be crooked too. If you blame anyone, blame your teacher for choosing the wrong profession."

Jiang Wenhua also laughed and said, "Old Hu, is this how you act as a teacher? This is my student. If you keep talking nonsense, I'll have my student submit his poems to other magazines!"

Hu Qingge laughed and pointed at Jiang Wenhua, saying, "If you have the guts, I'll report to Leping who's been stealing wine and cigarettes from my house."

The surrounding teachers burst into laughter, and Cheng Xiaoyu could only join in with a forced smile.

Jiang Wenhua shook his head and said, "Having a friend like you is a blessing from the heavens!" He then smiled at Cheng Xiaoyu and said, "'Pengpai' is one of the best poetry magazines in the country. I've submitted several times, but this Editor Hu has always rejected me. It's very rare for him to come and see you in person. He's also the vice chairman of the Shanghai Writers' Association. It's not easy for him to see potential in you, Cheng Xiaoyu!"

Seeing that there was no way to refuse, Cheng Xiaoyu could only say, "I'll leave it to Teacher Jiang."

Jiang Wenhua then introduced Cheng Xiaoyu to the other teachers, especially Li Junlan, who had graded his paper and insisted on giving him a perfect score despite the doubts of others.

Li Junlan had once had a dream of poetry in his youth, submitting countless manuscripts to various poetry societies and magazines. Unfortunately, most of them were never published, and the few that were received little attention. However, he was a true literary enthusiast and strongly disliked the current trend of sensationalist poetry. When he read Cheng Xiaoyu's essay, he was amazed, feeling that every word struck a chord in his heart. He was so moved that he almost shed tears, and he wrote that Cheng Xiaoyu was a totemic poet of the era.

After grading the paper, Li Junlan, suppressing his excitement, immediately showed it to the other teachers. Some suspected it might be plagiarized, but after searching the internet and magazines, they found no trace of the poem, so they dismissed their doubts.

When the grading was complete, Math teacher Wu brought Cheng Xiaoyu's zero-score math paper to the Chinese teachers, causing another round of laughter. When they checked the names, they found that both papers belonged to Cheng Xiaoyu. The teachers were relieved, thinking that Fudan High School had finally produced a prodigy.

Jiang Wenhua then specially texted his old classmate Hu Qingge, leading to Hu Qingge's visit to seek out Cheng Xiaoyu's poetry.

Hu Qingge asked Cheng Xiaoyu if he had any other works.

Cheng Xiaoyu quickly waved his hands and said, "Just a few that are worth reading, and I've written them all out!"

Hu Qingge felt a bit disappointed and said, "When you have new works, don't hide them. Send them to me first." He then left his contact information and said, "The editorial matters will be handled by the responsible editor. When you have enough poems, I'll try to help you publish a collection."

Cheng Xiaoyu could only feel embarrassed. After a few more casual words, Jiang Wenhua smiled and told Cheng Xiaoyu to go back.

Cheng Xiaoyu walked out of the office without looking back, and by this time, most of the people in the school had dispersed.

Wang Ou, Xia Shamo, and Chen Haoran were already waiting for him in the forest of lights.

Cheng Xiaoyu changed his shoes and walked towards the bulletin board, intending to tear down the poem "The Farthest Distance in the World." However, he saw a figure that surprised him, Su Yuxi.

It was not yet ten in the morning, and the vast campus was enveloped in a quiet mist, the air like a light veil spreading everywhere. The solemn teaching building stood silently in this world that seemed to have only two people.

Cheng Xiaoyu felt a melody in his ears, looking at Su Yuxi, who was wearing a ponytail and school uniform, standing in the cold wind like a blooming white lotus, a scene so beautiful it was almost breathtaking.

Cheng Xiaoyu quietly took a deep breath, suppressing his inexplicable nervousness, and walked towards the bulletin board. He thought Su Yuxi would turn around when she heard his footsteps, but she continued to read the words on the paper intently.

Cheng Xiaoyu reached out to tear down "The Farthest Distance in the World" but was unexpectedly stopped by a white hand.

Cheng Xiaoyu turned to see Su Yuxi's calm face, and her tone was not a question but a firm command, "Wait until I finish." This domineering tone was impossible to resist.

Cheng Xiaoyu could only stand to the side and wait quietly.

This moment of waiting seemed to freeze time, like a yellowed photograph. Cheng Xiaoyu heard a light sigh, and Su Yuxi turned to look at him with clear eyes, her lips parting to ask, "Was ist Liebe?" (German: What is love?)

Answering such a question was not difficult for the literary youth Cheng Xiaoyu. After a moment's thought, he spoke in a clear and resonant London accent, his deep voice carrying a beautiful rhythm, softly floating in the thin mist. (Yeats' "When You Are Old")

When you are old and grey and

full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

Su Yuxi was silent for a moment, then frowned and looked at Cheng Xiaoyu with disdain, "Is your talent only used to spin these sweet nothings to make girls happy?"

"Having never been in love, you pretend to understand it better than anyone. Your mind is trapped in those decaying, decadent love poems, unable to escape?"

"You are truly shallow and laughable."

Su Yuxi's cold tone was like ice blocks floating on a swift, icy river, each one carrying a chilling temperature that rushed towards Cheng Xiaoyu.