Horse-head Wall Reflects the Qing Dynasty

Chapter 10: Who can save the world after a hundred years? A thousand words of gold and silver are hard to find

"Master, we still want to hear yesterday's story."

A book boy has his job, but children don’t have so many concepts of right and wrong. They don’t have homework, but they have interesting stories to tell, so they naturally like the teacher.

Hearing the students' call, Cheng Heng was silent for a moment, then picked up the book and flipped to a page at random: "There is no story today, you can copy the article yourself."

Thunder roared, and the two parted unhappily. Cheng Heng wanted to say something else, but who would have thought that when he opened his eyes, he would see the same group of students again - Guan Yin's words touched him.

Whether it is Madam Lanxiang who came from a tea merchant family, or Madam Wanjing whose husband is a high-ranking official... these people all seem like characters who have appeared in his own dramas. For Cheng Heng, they are both familiar and detached.

However, the appearance of Guan Yin made Cheng Heng begin to doubt his attitude towards his own actions.

"Master?"

"Master, why do you suddenly want to copy books again?"

"Master..."

Children at this age are the most clingy, and it is hard for anyone not to be moved by their pouty and aggrieved look. If Cheng Heng's mind was on school now, he would definitely be entangled again.

Cheng Heng felt that ideas should be ahead of the times, especially when he heard that these children had not yet memorized many poems, but their families already had child brides - were their parents also forced to be together in this way, and did they meet the person of their dreams during the process of growing up?

"The clarion call of the times, the people's literature and art, isn't this what you want to do?" Guan Yin's words echoed in Cheng Heng's ears.

Feeling the scrutiny from the servants, Cheng Heng began to doubt whether his thoughts were "forcing the growth of seedlings" for the children of this historical era. If he really pursued "free love" when he returned home, would it ruin the harmony among the family?
"Master? Master?"

The corner of his clothes was tugged, and Cheng Heng finally came to his senses. He saw the child in front of him holding a book and pointing at the words on it. Cheng Heng read aloud in confusion: "Look at the Qi'ao, the bamboos are lush and green."

"Master, I don't know how to write these two words. Can you teach me?"

After the student said this, Cheng Heng, who was originally feeling smug that the other party had not failed to test him and whose parents had forced him to memorize these books when he was a child, suddenly lost his smile.

"Write?" He could read and recite it fluently, but it was absolutely impossible for Cheng Heng to write it out!
When he was a child, he was urged to recite the Four Books and Five Classics, as well as the knowledge of hundreds of schools of thought. Even if he did not understand the meaning, he could still recite them now. Cheng Heng refused to practice calligraphy more than once or twice. After a long time, his parents had no choice but to give up...

When he was in university, Cheng Heng was bewitched by the members of the school's calligraphy and painting club. He wanted to learn from the predecessors in the opera industry and get his hands on the life of literati - playing the piano, chess, calligraphy, painting, drinking tea and practicing Taoism. He had some exposure to these arts, but no one persisted in the end.

"I hurt my wrist yesterday, hiss..." Cheng Heng held back his laughter, and subconsciously wanted to turn around and say to his good brothers at this time, "Look at my acting skills."
But he had to pretend to be more convincing. Cheng Heng raised his other hand that was originally supporting his chin and rubbed his slightly shaking right wrist. "Hey, write it yourself first, and I will write it for you someday."

After all, a sudden inspiration is not a long-term solution. Cheng Heng frowned and worried about why he didn't listen to his parents and practice calligraphy earlier? His grandfather was famous in the surrounding area. It was said that his ancestors had produced a top scholar.

Although it is not a rare thing in our Jinshi Village, my grandfather's calligraphy attracts many people to come and write couplets during the Spring Festival every year!
"But I heard that you have a special skill, that you can write beautiful characters even with your left hand."

Damn it! Cheng Heng now doubted whether the world could hear his inner thoughts, so he found the most cunning way to make himself unhappy - Oh God, I didn't do anything wrong, why are you making things difficult for me? Oh Earth! I didn't do anything wrong, why are you making things difficult for me?
So many scripts have failed to make Cheng Heng understand what it means to "see the sky and no one responds, call to the earth and no one helps", and at this moment his improvisation seems unable to save him.

"What should we do if this continues?" "This is not a long-term solution after all."

"It's you?"

"why is it you again?"

At the moment of meeting, although the two people refused to admit it, in fact, the surprise in their hearts far outweighed their doubts about this matter.

"Did you write a script?"

"Didn't your students' parents give you any trouble?"

The two asked each other what was on their mind at the same time. At this point, it seemed as if all the unpleasantness from the previous time had disappeared. The two young men smiled and asked the other to speak first.

"Girls speak first, so... Teacher, you speak first."

"You know I'm a teacher, but it's almost impossible for me to be a teacher in this era." Liu Jiaoan is very good at comforting people, but Guan Yin can't complain at all. Now that he has the opportunity, he gets to the point in a few words, "What's more, it seems that his predecessor came from the Jiaofang."

"You know, in the music school, even if you are selling your art but not your body, you will still be looked down upon..."

"Who cares about them? Did you eat their rice?"

Guan Yin was originally worried that his words might touch upon Cheng Heng's unspoken pain, but he did not expect the other party's response to be so straightforward. Instead, it seemed as if he was overthinking for no reason, and he looked down on him in his heart: "In fact, if you are not prepared, you can also ask them to have a group chat."

“Or, flip the classroom.”

When these words came out, the two young men who had experienced all of this were somewhat speechless - when did these teaching methods that they once disliked become taken for granted.

"In fact, I didn't know until my internship that sometimes there are two types of teachers. One is those who have no choice but to adapt to the new form, and the other is..."

Cheng Heng blushed at Guan Yin's words: "Actually, I can still give lectures."

"Teachers should be careful with words, and set an example for others." Guan Yin didn't care about Cheng Heng's embarrassment, but just happened to catch a glimpse of the random writings and drawings on the former's desk. "Teachers teach, learn and answer questions, not just worry about their safety on the bridge."

There was another sound of rain outside the window. When a noisy sound came up, Cheng Heng caught the tail of the "dream" and shouted to Guan Yin: "The article is the author himself!"

"Myself...myself, myself."

Did Cheng Heng mean that if he couldn't continue writing, he should write about himself? This short exhortation lingered in Guan Yin's mind for a long time, from the moment Liu Jiaoan left the house to the moment Liu Jiaoan placed the bamboo basket in front of Guan Yin.

The sweet and bitter smell of rain and soil rushed straight to his face. His mind was clear and he cut off all disturbing thoughts. Guan Yin looked at Liu Jiaoan and said slowly: "Madam, can you copy the words for me later?"

(End of this chapter)