Chapter Fifty-Two: Time Is a Butcher’s Blade

Leng Haoyang was hunched over Dong Yanyan’s desk, head down as he copied homework. At the back of the classroom, Yang Ruining and Dong Yanyan sat together on a table, chatting idly.

“Yanyan, Mengmeng’s competition is tomorrow afternoon. Since you’re a judge, you have to look out for my Mengmeng,” Yang Ruining said with a laugh.

“I have faith in Mengmeng. She’s sure to pass tomorrow,” Dong Yanyan replied, leaning back against the wall with her legs crossed, smiling at ease. She had every reason to be confident—Mengmeng was always one of the top ten seeds in every competition.

“There are seven people from our class signed up, and among the girls, Mengmeng and Liu Siying are the strongest. By the way, why didn’t Yang Lili sign up? She’s the culture and entertainment committee member,” she asked curiously.

“She wanted to, but she caught a cold these past few days. Her throat is swollen, and she also has to help the teachers coordinate things, so she gave up. Lin Feng is a bit disappointed—he’s been accompanying her to the clinic every day. Oh, and Lili said that you only became a judge because Lin Feng and Mr. Chen recommended you.”

“Oh? How did Mr. Chen suddenly discover my hidden talents? So that’s why,” Dong Yanyan replied, feigning indifference with a small smile, but her heart skipped a beat and then twisted with uncertainty.

Lost in her thoughts, suddenly the classroom lights went out, and the music from the tape recorder stopped abruptly.

A few students in the front row lit candles.

Dong Yanyan took the cassette out of the tape recorder, turning it over in her hands in silence.

*

Dong Yanyan’s life always seemed to follow this pattern: whenever something good happened, something worse would be waiting around the corner. But when her luck hit rock bottom, it would always bounce back.

Friday morning brought good news: payday had arrived!

Excitedly clutching her three hundred yuan salary, Dong Yanyan calculated that, with current prices, she could buy herself a down jacket for about two hundred, and with the remainder, she could buy a sweater for Song Mingcheng. After all, he’d helped her a lot lately, and he deserved it. Her father always said never to owe others favors—money is easy to repay, but favors are not. Still, connections couldn’t be neglected, or you’d grow apart. Reciprocity was necessary.

And with winter coming, Song Mingcheng really did need a new sweater. She’d buy it for him tomorrow morning!

This month’s salary would be almost entirely spent, but next month promised to be better. She’d recently secured a second job at another newspaper, and the two distribution offices were close by. Each day, she could deliver two papers along the same route, earning two salaries—and commissions, too. With a base salary and commissions, she’d make at least seven or eight hundred a month, and her finances would be much more comfortable.

On the way back, she stopped at the school’s convenience stand to buy some sunflower seeds and ice cream. It was payday, and treating her dorm mates to ice cream was a must! She bought one for Song Mingcheng too, who took it and laughed, “You want to freeze me to death so early in the morning?!”

“You helped me out, so I won’t mind if you complain,” Dong Yanyan replied in good spirits. “Hey, what’s your favorite color?!”

“White is just fine,” Song Mingcheng said, tearing open the ice cream and taking a bite.

Dong Yanyan hesitated. He’d look handsome in a white sweater, but white was easy to get dirty. From what she knew, the girls in the class took turns washing his clothes, and she didn’t want to add to their burden.

*

At noon, Dong Yanyan arrived early at the broadcasting class, hoping to help move some tables. As soon as she entered, she saw a group of people gathered around a little girl of three or four, one person curiously touching her small hand, another pinching her chubby cheeks affectionately. The little girl sat on a chair, head held high in pride, her face an adorable mask of indignation. Seeing her expression, Dong Yanyan felt a pang—Lu Lu always looked like that when she was upset.

“Hey? Where did this little beauty come from? Who made you angry?!” she ran over, unable to resist patting the girl’s cheek and teasing her with a pout.

The little girl shot her an impatient glance and declared, “I want my mommy!”

Dong Yanyan looked at her and realized—if she wasn’t mistaken, this must be Teacher Yang’s daughter.

“Oh, I know! You’re little Nuonuo—no, big Nuonuo, right?!” she nodded to the girl with certainty.

“My name is He Sinuo!” the child loudly corrected her.

“All right, He Sinuo, let’s sing a song. If you sing well, I’ll reward you with a mommy, okay?” Dong Yanyan took her chubby little hand, eyes shining with delight. “Let’s sing together... Stretch out your chubby little hand, like this! One finger—turn, turn, turn—turns into a caterpillar, crawling along! Two fingers—turn, turn, turn—turn into a bunny, hopping about! Show me, how does the bunny hop?” She lifted Nuonuo down from the chair. Nuonuo, delighted, mimicked her, raising her hands as bunny ears and hopping several times.

“Three fingers—turn, turn, turn—turn into a little kitten, meow meow meow…” Dong Yanyan put her fingers to her lips and meowed like a cat. Nuonuo giggled, imitating the sound.

“Four fingers—turn, turn, turn—turn into a little crab, scuttling sideways! Five fingers—turn, turn, turn—turn into a little tiger, roar, roar, roar!”

The older students watching nearby laughed at their antics, as the two bounced around the room.

Nuonuo, sharp-eyed, spotted her mother coming in through the front door and squealed with joy, running over and rubbing her little face lovingly against Teacher Yang’s leg.

“Nuonuo sang so well that Mommy came right back!” Nuonuo exclaimed in delight.

Dong Yanyan’s nose tingled, and tears nearly fell from her eyes.

“Nuonuo was such a good girl, even put on a show?” Teacher Yang scooped her up, smiling fondly.

Li Zhe pointed at Dong Yanyan and laughed, “Those two little kids just sang children’s songs for ages. I think we should start a children’s division—the two of them would win for sure! Here, big brother will reward you with a candy!” He fished a sweet from his pocket, and Nuonuo snatched it eagerly.

Dong Yanyan couldn’t help but laugh, pretending to scold, “Brother, I want candy too!” Thanks to Tiantian, she and Li Zhe had become well acquainted, and he always looked out for her—a favor she owed to He Jingxuan, no doubt.

“Okay, Nuonuo, time to go. Say goodbye to your brothers and sisters! Li Zhe, you go ahead and organize things—I’ll be right back after taking Nuonuo home,” Teacher Yang said, waving goodbye as she carried Nuonuo away.

Li Zhe directed the roomful of judges and contestants to move the tables and chairs into the corridor, leaving only a few for the judges. Dong Yanyan finally experienced the pleasure of sitting while others stood—it felt wonderful!

At one o’clock, the elimination round officially began. Aside from the eight student judges from each class, there was also the beautiful Teacher Yang and Mr. Wang Yu, the homeroom teacher for the 1996 production class. Mr. Wang was a man in his forties, the very model of a scholarly gentleman, though beneath the surface he was rather proud and didn’t regard most students or colleagues very highly. Years later, he would be a high-ranking official at the city broadcasting bureau. When Lulu competed in the city dance competition, she’d seen him again—he’d been sitting on the judging panel, and as soon as he spotted Xu Cheng walking by with a child, he called out with a smile, “I know you—you’re my student!” Even then, though still successful, the lines at the corners of his eyes betrayed his age. When Lulu called out a crisp “Hello, Grandpa,” it left both men full of wistfulness. People are always, unknowingly, pushed by time into positions they’re not ready for, with no room for resistance or doubt.

Watching Mr. Wang Yu, full of confidence, laughing with Teacher Yang, Dong Yanyan couldn’t help but feel a pang of melancholy.