Chapter 3: First Day at Yangcheng No. 2

                               

He Lizhen’s ticket was for noon the next day. She woke up early, packed her things in the dormitory, and put the bread and sausages she had bought yesterday into her backpack to eat on the road.

Yangcheng is a county-level city under the administration of P City, with a population of about 700,000. It was He Lizhen’s first visit, and although she had looked up information online beforehand, nothing she had read matched what she saw in reality. She first took a bus, then a taxi, her eyes glued to the window as the city passed by.

Yangcheng had developed rapidly in recent years, but with development came an explosion of real estate and factory construction. The taxi had no air conditioning, yet He Lizhen dared not open the window for fear of breathing in dust and ash. Still, even with her mental preparation, she was taken aback when the car arrived at Yangcheng No. 2 Middle School.

From fifty or sixty meters away, the school emanated a strong air of neglect, as though no one had cared for it in more than ten years. It had its own musty smell. He Lizhen approached the school gate; it was empty, and the guard pavilion seemed purely decorative.

The gate stood wide open, welcoming anyone from all directions. On it, four lacquered characters read “Yangcheng No. 2 Middle School.” The letters had once been black, but now a thick layer of dust had dulled them to gray.

He Lizhen paused, hesitating whether to enter. At that moment, a few students exited the campus. They weren’t in uniform; two girls wore short skirts and heavy makeup. As they passed He Lizhen, she caught a glimpse of their backs before turning and walking into the school grounds.

The campus layout was simple: the teaching building at the center, the canteen to the left, the playground to the right. The playground had two basketball courts and a volleyball court, and one basketball court was occupied by students, some of the boys playing shirtless under the summer sun. He Lizhen glanced at them briefly, turned her head, and walked mechanically toward the teaching building.

Inside, the smell of books was faintly comforting. Since it was summer vacation, the school was nearly empty. He Lizhen made her way to the third floor, knocked on the door of the third-grade office, and was invited in.

The office was small and crowded with six or seven desks, stacks of books, and test papers. Only two teachers were present: a man looking up from his notebook and a woman browsing the web on a computer.

“You are…” the man started.

“Ah, hello, I’m He Lizhen,” she said, quickly nodding and introducing herself. “I’m a new teacher. I greeted Director Jiang earlier and wanted to come take a look today.”

“A new teacher?” The man flipped through his notebook, glancing at a calendar book on the desk. He Lizhen noticed that both were empty, leaving her unsure what he was checking.

The female teacher spoke up. “Lao Jiang mentioned it once before.”

He Lizhen and the man looked at her. The woman set down her mouse. “She’s from the Chinese department.”

He Lizhen nodded. “Yes, yes.”

The male teacher finally perked up. “Ah, I remember now.” He clapped his hands. “That’s right, you’ll be assigned to our classes.”

“Really? You are—”

The man stood, straightened his wrinkled clothes, and said, “My name is Hu Fei. I’m the head teacher of the third and sixth high school classes and also a math teacher. You’ll replace Teacher Zhao and handle Chinese classes for the fourth, fifth, and sixth classes.”

He held out his hand, and He Lizhen shook it hurriedly.

“Director Jiang isn’t here today,” Hu Fei added.

“That’s okay, I just wanted to take a look,” He Lizhen replied. “The official report will be in a week.”

“Then take a walk around campus and familiarize yourself with the environment,” he suggested.

He Lizhen nodded, exchanged a few more polite words, and left.

She felt in good spirits as she stepped outside. Despite the office being somewhat dated, the two teachers had good personalities. Walking down the corridor, she observed a row of classrooms for the third year of high school.

Even in vacation, students in their final year should be studying independently, she thought, and walked along the corridor. Yet from start to finish, she found only a few sleeping students; not a single one was reading.

Disappointed, He Lizhen quietly went downstairs and left the school. She called the agent she had contacted in advance. After a while, he arrived on a small motorcycle and showed her three or four apartments.

The school was close to the city center, making it easy to find a suitable place. Rent was cheap—around 1,000 yuan per month for utilities. He Lizhen liked a one-bedroom, one-living-room apartment with a bathroom, about forty square meters, newly renovated and hygienic. It was on the first floor, part of a courtyard with five or six households living there.

“Will there be bugs on the first floor?” she asked.

“Bugs are everywhere,” the agent said. “Just keep the room clean and don’t leave food out. The environment is safe, and most residents are elderly and have lived here for decades.”

He Lizhen nodded. “I’ll think about it and reply by tomorrow.”

“You should hurry. Newly renovated units like this are popular; I can’t hold it for long,” the agent said.

“Okay, thanks for your help.”

After viewing a few more places, she chose the apartment, paid the deposit, and signed the contract three days later.

Her luggage was light, making the move easy. When she arrived, an aunt in the courtyard greeted her.

“Newly moved?”

“Yes, hello Auntie.”

The eldest aunt, in pajamas and fanning herself, said, “If it’s newly renovated, open the windows to get rid of the smell.”

“Okay, thank you.”

He Lizhen spent the day cleaning her new apartment. Exhausted, she fell asleep on the hard bed, her back aching. When she woke the next day, her whole body felt sore.

Two days later, the school called. All procedures and materials had been processed, and she was scheduled to report the following day. He Lizhen set the phone down, sitting on her stool, and gazed at the sunny day outside. She felt completely at ease.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly. He Lizhen thought that perhaps this is what a “new life” really meant—something to look forward to.

On her first day, a few students had returned to school early. As a third-rate high school, Yangcheng No. 2 showed its “broken” nature everywhere. With only six classes in the third grade and fewer than ten teachers for core subjects, resources were scarce. The Chinese department had only two teachers: the older female teacher Liu Ying, in her forties, and now He Lizhen.

“Have you prepared for your lesson?” Liu Ying asked, passing her the class schedule.

“I’ve been preparing for several days,” He Lizhen replied.

Liu Ying looked up, her face lined with years of experience. Thick-rimmed glasses sat on her nose, yet her expression couldn’t hide the fatigue of teaching for decades.

“You’ll start with Class 6,” Liu Ying said. “Get used to it.”

“Okay.”

He Lizhen rose early the next morning, full of energy. The school gate, once desolate, was now bustling with students in uniform. The sight brought tears to her eyes as she walked in with them.

The opening ceremony took place on the playground. Despite it being September, the sun blazed down on the students, who wilted and slumped after a while. Many girls covered their heads with uniforms to avoid the sun. The head teachers and staff took care of proceedings formally, and He Lizhen felt herself drifting drowsily under the sun.

Once the ceremony ended, she quickly went to the bathroom to freshen up. Her first class was about to begin.

Teaching had been her dream since childhood. She loved children and felt a surge of excitement as she whispered encouragement to herself in the mirror, then carried her books to Class 6.

Walking down the corridor, she remembered Peng Qian, the female teacher at the computer, who had told her that classes were divided by grades: the lower the grades, the lower the scores.

“But in reality,” Peng Qian had said, “there isn’t much difference between Class 5 and 6. Scores are in the single digits; no one should look down on anyone.”

He Lizhen arrived at Class 6 and straightened her posture before entering. On the podium, she scanned the students. They were quiet, still face-saving, and all eyes followed her.

Nervous, she opened her roll book, realizing she hadn’t introduced herself yet. Clearing her throat, she said, “Hello everyone, my name is He Lizhen.” She turned to write it on the blackboard.

“These three words mean I’m your new Chinese teacher,” she added. Originally, she wanted to explain that the previous teacher, Zhao, had resigned, but the students’ expressionless faces made her reconsider.

“Well, starting this year, I will teach you Chinese.”

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