Chapter 11

Morning and evening self-study sessions are generally quite relaxed. Teachers come and go, usually just circling the room once before leaving. At most, they might reappear just before the end of the session to go to the cafeteria for breakfast. However, the head teacher of Class One, Wang Yumin, a female teacher, sometimes employs a surprise return tactic. She would leave and then quietly slip back, standing outside the last window of the classroom, secretly observing to see who is sleeping, chatting, or reading novels.

This tactic still works now, but Feng Yiping knows that in less than a month, it will become ineffective. Generally, when a teacher is present, students read more attentively and with more effort, making more noise. Once the teacher leaves, fewer students read, and the noise level drops. When you hear the students' reading voices get louder again, especially near the windows, it means a teacher is coming. Knowing this signal, the surprise return tactic becomes useless, and fewer students get caught.

The next morning, after Wang Yumin came, left, and then quietly returned and left again, Feng Yiping deliberately asked Wang Jinju, "Did you find out yesterday? What do those few lines mean?"

Wang Jinju and Huang Jingping blushed. Last night, they had taken the paper and asked the second-year students in their dormitory. After hearing the first line, which had already been translated, the girls were very interested, but none of them could fully translate it. After the lights were turned off, the third-year girls returned, and one of them brought a dictionary to look up the words. After a few of them discussed it, they finally pieced together the meaning. As a result, the 17-year-old girls in the room were all quite moved.

At that time, Wang Guozhen's poetry collection was popular nationwide, and朦胧诗 (obscure poetry) by poets like Shu Ting was selected as model texts in Chinese classes. In the early 1990s, poetry and poets were still highly regarded.

Although only four lines long, the poem vividly portrayed the deep and sorrowful affection of a secret admirer. It was not yet the 21st century, and "love" was not a common word on people's lips. For these middle school students, love was a taboo word. Moreover, girls often matured earlier in this area, and many of them had a vague crush or secret admiration for someone.

The taboo nature of the topic, combined with the shared experience of being a secret admirer, made these four lines particularly touching.

The girls in the school might not fully understand what romance was, but which girl didn't have a romantic dream? In their dreams, someone would write such a poem for them. Now, in reality, such a scene was happening right in front of them, and how could they not be moved?

Wang Jinju and Huang Jingping slept in the lower bunks of two beds in a row, their heads facing each other. It was hot, so they sat up and whispered through the mosquito net, "Who do you think he wrote this for?" Wang Jinju asked Huang Jingping.

This question seemed to have a specific meaning, and Huang Jingping replied irritably, "How would I know?"

Wang Jinju laughed softly in her ear, "I think it might be for you."

Huang Jingping, of course, didn't agree and hit Wang Jinju's arm, "Nonsense, why would it be for me?"

Wang Jinju leaned in and said, "Don't look at his small eyes; I've seen him sneak glances at you several times."

Huang Jingping felt a bit pleased but didn't let it show, "Really? I didn't notice. Besides, he might be looking at you!"

Well, Feng Yiping originally thought his skills were quite high, as he could even sneak glances at pretty girls on the street without leaving a trace. He didn't expect that after slightly relaxing and looking a few times, Huang Jingping might not have noticed, but Wang Jinju did.

This reminds us that no matter what we do, we must never be complacent and must always hold ourselves to high standards.

When Feng Yiping asked this, Wang Jinju thought he really didn't know and tried to dodge the question, "We don't know either; we can't understand it. What's the name of the book? And the author, do you know?"

At this point, even Huang Jingping stopped pretending to read and turned to look at Feng Yiping, "I don't know. I saw it in a broken book when my grandfather was talking to the bookstore clerk. It was all in English, and I only remembered those few lines. There was a photo next to it of an old man with a white beard, wearing a long robe, who looked Indian."

The girls, including Wen Hong, who was listening intently, were somewhat disappointed. Wang Jinju wanted to say more but was blocked by Huang Jingping. Wang Jinju tried to get past her, but Huang Jingping tickled her, and they both burst into laughter.

With the girls' natural penchant for gossip, even the girls who lived nearby and didn't board at the school knew about it by morning self-study. So, when they were getting breakfast, some girls pointed and whispered about Feng Yiping, but most of the girls were somewhat disappointed.

Feng Yiping was a thin, slightly dark-skinned boy with small eyes and a large nose. His features, when put together, were still quite handsome, but his standard "toilet lid" hairstyle, navy blue shirt, and blue pants (which looked homemade), and his inappropriate cloth shoes made him look quite rustic. It was a case of high hopes leading to great disappointment.

Feng Yiping pretended not to notice and chatted with Xiao Zhijie in the queue. They were discussing how to bring wet clothes back from the river without the teachers noticing.

Speaking of which, both the adults at home and the teachers at school strictly controlled access to water, including ponds, reservoirs, and rivers. In Feng Yiping's village, there were several ponds, and over the years, no child or adult had ever fallen in. Of course, a pig had once fallen in but quickly swam to the shore.

The school was even stricter. If caught, students would be scolded and their parents would be called. After being scolded at school, they would also be beaten at home. Therefore, going to the river to swim was quite risky. Feng Yiping, being a well-behaved child, never learned to swim. Later, when he had the time to learn, he felt embarrassed to do so at the age of 20 or 30, having grown up by the Yangtze River without knowing how to swim. As a result, he remained a non-swimmer until his rebirth.

Feng Yiping thought about it and realized that whether taking clean clothes out or bringing wet clothes back, it was not safe to go through the school gate. He needed to find another way.

He asked Xiao Zhijie about his relationship with Zhang Qiuling, the daughter of the vice-principal. Xiao Zhijie was a bit shy, "Our relationship is okay; we were classmates at the Hope Primary School."

Feng Yiping said, "Can you ask Zhang Qiuling to keep watch at the entrance to the principal's courtyard while we sneak in and out?"

Xiao Zhijie thought about it, "It won't work. She always listens to the teachers. If we tell her we're going to the river to swim, she'll definitely tell Mr. Wang or even her father."

"Then we can only wash our clothes and change back at the pond," Feng Yiping said.

"That's fine, it's safer," Xiao Zhijie said, holding a bowl of porridge in one hand and a steamed bun in the other, "Let's go find Wang Changning; his pickled vegetables have soybeans, which are quite tasty."

Among the three of them, Xiao Zhijie's family was the best off, but his mother's pickling skills were not great, and sometimes the pickled vegetables were black.

After breakfast, including Feng Yiping, 12 students who had not paid or fully paid their tuition fees received their books, two days late. The books, of various sizes, smelled of ink, a scent that could not be experienced after entering the workforce, no matter how many books one bought from bookstores.

Since the first day of school was a Tuesday, and classes officially started on Wednesday, they only had three days of classes before Saturday. On Saturday morning, during the morning exercises, the principal announced that there would be a school assembly after the second class.

Hearing this, some people cheered, but Feng Yiping was a bit worried. If it was a sunny day, sitting on the playground for an hour would not be easy.

After the second class, they did the radio calisthenics, returned to the classroom, and brought stools to sit on the playground in the order of the morning exercises. The stage was on the platform in front of the building, made up of three office desks, with a microphone in the center. The platform was five steps higher than the playground, and a row of sycamore trees in front of the playground provided shade. A red banner was hung between two sycamore trees on either side of the steps, reading, "Liangjiahe Middle School 1992 Summer Opening Ceremony."

First, the principal spoke, reviewing the achievements of the previous year's graduating class. Three students were admitted to the county high school, one of whom was just 10 points short of the city high school. Many other students were admitted to the county's vocational schools, technical colleges, and secondary specialized schools, which was a good result.

This year, the first-year class was the largest ever, with three classes. The principal encouraged the new students to study hard, strive to be admitted to the county high school, and eventually to university, to learn more useful knowledge, serve the country, and bring glory to their families and the school.

Next, the student council president, a third-year boy, spoke. He spoke without notes, with clear logic and great enthusiasm, delivering a speech that was very official. He discussed international and national trends, emphasizing the need for a sense of historical mission, a spirit of ownership, and voluntary hard work. He then focused on the student council's main tasks for the year, which were to promote self-management and integrity among students, aiming to achieve self-management during exams without teacher supervision and no cheating.

To be honest, seeing a peer speak confidently on stage had a significant impact on the students. Especially with the title of "president," which, at that time, had a specific meaning in the minds of most primary school children.

Feng Yiping heard some students discussing that the president was from their village and had big ambitions, saying he wouldn't even take a position as a township chief. Feng Yiping had heard similar things before. Since they had little contact after middle school, and the internet was not yet developed, he never followed up on this president. He couldn't help but smile and silently said to himself, "Classmate, don't underestimate the position of a township chief. Many people work hard their whole lives and never achieve such a position. Don't be too ambitious!"

Next, a girl from Class 1-2 spoke on behalf of the new students. Compared to the student council president, her speech was much less impressive. She read from her notes, spoke softly, and her Mandarin was quite ordinary. She said the usual things, and Feng Yiping's mind wandered again, only to join in the applause at the end.

Finally, the head of the teaching department announced the summary of the previous semester, the list of outstanding students from the current second and third grades (who were the first and second grades last semester), and presented the awards.

To the tune of the "Athlete's March," the outstanding students received certificates, hardcover notebooks, and fountain pens from the principal. The excellent students received certificates, softcover notebooks, and ballpoint pens, which were of higher quality than the stationery and pencils Feng Yiping had received in primary school.

The whole ceremony lasted about two class periods, and Feng Yiping was drenched in sweat. As soon as it was over, the first-year students rushed to the classroom, put their things away, packed their dirty clothes, and headed home.

The second and third-year students, however, had to stay and continue their studies, aiming to study hard and make progress every day.

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