chapter 3
Uncle De handed me a stack of money.
There were hundred-yuan bills, fifty-yuan bills, and some fives and ones.
Some of the edges were frayed, but the bills were neatly stacked together.
The dark clouds parted, and gentle moonlight fell on his wrinkled face.
He passed the money to me, even wearing an apologetic expression: “I don’t have any more. You’ll have to figure out your living expenses yourself.”
My eyes instantly reddened, and with trembling hands I took the money.
“Please wait a moment, I’ll go back and get paper and pen to write an IOU.”
Uncle De grabbed my arm: “No need!”
“But you must rank in the top three hundred of your grade in the final exams. Only then can you get into a decent university, and only then will I continue to support you.”
He paused.
“I don’t have much money, I just hope to help the children who truly deserve it.”
Uncle De wouldn’t even come inside for a glass of water.
He reminded me, “Don’t let anyone know I’m paying your tuition.”
“I know.”
People laugh at those without hatred, envy those with it.
The hearts of country folk can be even more blunt and vicious.
Uncle De rode off on his bicycle, cloaked in moonlight, leaving in a hurry.
During summer vacation, I collected cicada shells, searched for river snails, caught crayfish, and used a net to scoop up wild fish and shrimp when the water rose.
All these things could be sold for money.
Before school started, I quietly brought a big bag of dried shrimp to Uncle De.
With the hundred yuan my mother gave me, I had only three hundred yuan in total.
Even if I ate steamed buns every day, it would be impossible to get through a whole semester.
Luckily, I was quick-witted and went to see the principal on the first day of registration.
I explained my situation, repeatedly assured him I would study hard, and asked if I could find a part-time job at school.
He truly was a good teacher. After looking over my grade report and thinking for a moment, he let me clean and organize the library twice a week, and gave me a meal ticket worth one hundred and fifty yuan per month.
At that time, meat dishes in the cafeteria started at two yuan, and vegetable dishes were just one yuan.
That meal ticket greatly eased my burden.
But not everyone was as kind as he was.
There were over 700 students in our year.
I ranked nearly six hundredth.
I was placed in a parallel class.
Many students in my class were sponsored.
My seat was assigned to the very back.
The girl in front of me brought her own tall stool, blocking most of the blackboard.
The Self-funded Student next to me never studied properly, always passing notes and chatting during class.
My foundation was already weak, and this kind of learning environment was truly terrible.
I reported the situation to my homeroom teacher, Old Li, but he just brushed it off: “Then go swap stools with her. Besides, if you work hard and get good grades in the midterms, I’ll change your seat.”
When I left the office, I overheard Old Li joking with other teachers: “No grades, no family background, and so many problems.”
At that moment, I really wanted to rush in and slap him.
But in reality,
Life has always been this cruel.
If you don’t have money, you must have strength.
Otherwise, your voice will be buried, your needs ignored.
Uncle De and the principal’s kindness is a rare virtue.
Old Li’s snobbery is the reality.
I must do everything I can to change my fate.
I will never marry hastily again, only to end up dead with my child.
During recess, I made English vocabulary cards and stuck them to my palm, memorizing ten or so words while exercising.
At lunch break, while others joked around, I stuffed cotton in my ears and focused on solving problems.
After lights out, the houses across from the dorm would turn on their lights, so I stood by the corridor window, using the faint glow to preview the next day’s lessons.
…
One day, while I was helping organize books in the library, a tall, thin boy came over, his face flushed.
He asked Teacher Wang on duty if there were any part-time jobs available.
Teacher Wang pointed at me: “You’re too late.”
The boy glanced at me, then left disappointed.
While shelving books, Teacher Wang whispered to me, “That boy just now is Zhang Jie, the top student in your year. I hear his family isn’t well off either…”
Zhang Jie…
It’s him!