"Sick?"
He Lizhen's first thought was of the heavy rain, then of Wan Kun's scalded back—the red, angry skin she'd glimpsed before he turned away.
Wu Yueming added, his voice carefully neutral, "He got caught in the rain and has a slight fever today."
Wu Yueming kept looking at He Lizhen as he spoke, and she could roughly guess what he was thinking. He was blaming her, criticizing her, feeling she was irresponsible—inviting someone in only to kick them out into a storm.
"What do you know?" He Lizhen thought, the words bitter in her mind.
She didn't say a word, put down the attendance sheet with more force than necessary, and turned to start teaching.
Wu Yueming snorted coldly behind her, his voice neither loud nor soft; perhaps other students didn't notice, but He Lizhen heard it clearly—a judgment rendered. She gripped the chalk tightly, took a deep breath, and pretended not to hear, though it echoed in her skull.
After class, He Lizhen returned to her office, feeling inexplicably simmering with anger that had nowhere to go. She stared at the books on her desk, then slapped her face hard, startling Peng Qian beside her.
"What's wrong?" Peng Qian asked, eyes wide. "Are you crazy?"
He Lizhen shook her head, muttering, "Nothing."
He Lizhen covered her face, sat down, and couldn't concentrate on her book, the words swimming meaninglessly before her eyes.
"Come on, Ms. He, let me pick out some clothes for you. Which of these two looks better?" Peng Qian called to He Lizhen, oblivious to her turmoil. He Lizhen went over and saw her choosing dresses online. Both were long dresses, one green and one yellow, bright with summer promise.
"I think they're both nice," He Lizhen said.
"Tsk, I wanted your opinion."
He Lizhen looked at them carefully and said, "Then I'll take the green one."
"This one? You think this one looks good?"
He Lizhen said, "The yellow one shows too much back."
"..." Peng Qian looked at He Lizhen with a puzzled expression, as if seeing her for the first time. "That's what you call showing too much back? Don't kid me. Are you going to wrap yourself up like a mummy when you go out with your boyfriend?"
He Lizhen hummed and said quietly, "I don't have a boyfriend..."
Peng Qian looked at He Lizhen, raised an eyebrow mysteriously, pulled her closer, and said with conspiratorial enthusiasm, "Want me to introduce you to someone? I have quite a few options. What kind do you like?"
He Lizhen quickly stood up, pushed her, and said, "Stop messing around."
"Seriously, what kind do you like?"
What kind?
"Do you want someone mature and stable, or someone younger and stronger?" Peng Qian explained to He Lizhen as she spoke, warming to her topic. "Let me tell you, my boyfriend graduated from university not long ago, and he's surrounded by a bunch of single young men. Tell me your criteria, and I'll help you find someone."
"Your boyfriend is so young?"
"Yes, we were introduced by someone. Younger is better; who likes an old man?"
He Lizhen's heart suddenly skipped a beat, missing its rhythm. She looked up, and Peng Qian was still watching her with great interest. He Lizhen said, "Hurry up and pick out some clothes; there's a limited-time discount."
"Oh!" Peng Qian exclaimed, snapping back to attention. "I almost forgot!"
She rushed to place the order, while He Lizhen returned to her seat. Peng Qian was diligently filling out forms when she suddenly heard He Lizhen ask almost inaudibly behind her, "Teacher Peng, do you have any cold medicine?"
"Yes," Peng Qian replied, her eyes glued to the computer screen. "It's in the second drawer over there. What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"
"Nothing," He Lizhen said, going over to find a whole drawer full of medicine—cold medicine, throat lozenges, and liniment for sprains and bruises, you name it. A pharmacy in miniature.
"This…" He Lizhen was a little surprised. "How come there are so many medicines?"
"Ah, they were all prepared by the teachers. To make things easier, we each took a bottle, and it all accumulated."
"Can I use them?"
"Of course," Peng Qian said with a smile. "You've only been here a short time, you haven't quite settled in yet. Let me tell you, even though this place is a bit run-down, we still have some benefits."
He Lizhen was amused and picked out a box of cold and flu medicine, weighing it in her palm.
At noon, He Lizhen went to a nearby pharmacy to buy a box of burn ointment and also replenished some other medicine, putting it back in her office drawer with careful arrangement.
After buying the items, He Lizhen stared at the two boxes of medicine on the desk for a full ten minutes, as if they might transform into something else if she watched long enough, before standing up. Like going into battle, she swung her arm and grabbed the two boxes.
It was 3 PM, time for Class 6's PE class. At Yangcheng No. 2 Middle School, PE was basically free time, with most boys playing ball on the playground, their shouts carrying through open windows. He Lizhen looked out the window for a while, noticing Wan Kun wasn't among the boys, then went to the classroom door.
Only a few people remained inside: four or five girls chatting in clusters, Wu Wei, who rarely wrote more than a hundred words in his weekly journal, reading a book in the front row, and Wan Kun hunched over in the corner like a shadow.
The girls were the first to notice He Lizhen.
"Teacher He?" one of the girls said, surprise coloring her voice. "What brings you here?"
He Lizhen smiled and said, "It's nothing, you guys continue chatting."
She went into the room and went to the last seat, her footsteps quiet on the worn floor.
"Wan Kun," she called, but Wan Kun didn't respond.
He Lizhen watched for a while, then lowered her head slightly and whispered in his ear, close enough to smell cigarette smoke clinging to him. "Don't pretend. Didn't you hear Tan Xiaolan call me just now?" Tan Xiaolan was the girl who had just called her. She saw Wan Kun move slightly when Tan Xiaolan called her—a tell.
He Lizhen said, "Come out."
After saying that, she walked towards the door. As she passed Wu Wei, He Lizhen smiled and said to him, "Reading?"
Wu Wei quickly said, "Hello, teacher."
He Lizhen nodded and said, "If you don't understand anything, go to the office and ask. Don't keep trying to figure it out yourself."
"Okay!"
Wu Wei was a chubby boy with thick glasses. He didn't look like a smart kid, but he was attentive in class, and He Lizhen liked him—appreciated his earnest effort.
"Heh."
A faint, cold laugh came from behind, cynical and sharp. He Lizhen turned around and saw a tall figure sway past her. In the blink of an eye, Wan Kun had already walked out of the classroom.
He Lizhen gave Wu Wei a few more instructions and then left the classroom as well, following in Wan Kun's wake.
Wan Kun stood at the end of the corridor, backlit by afternoon sun. He Lizhen walked over to him and said, "Come this way." Then she went straight into a small storage room next to the laboratory.
There was a musty smell in the room, dust motes dancing in the light from a small window. After Wan Kun came in, He Lizhen closed the door and took out two boxes of medicine from her pocket.
"Here you go."
Wan Kun looked at the two boxes of medicine in He Lizhen's hand but didn't take them, his gaze steady and unreadable.
He Lizhen said, "Take them. You caught a cold because you got caught in the rain, right? And, on your back..." He Lizhen met Wan Kun's eyes and didn't finish her sentence, only extending her hand forward slightly, the offering hanging between them.
But Wan Kun spoke up.
"...What's wrong with my back?"
Wan Kun's voice was low and hoarse, perhaps because he was ill, sounding somewhat weak—vulnerable in a way that made her chest tight.
He Lizhen exhaled and said, "Your back is burned, isn't it? Did you put on any medicine?"
Wan Kun looked at He Lizhen. He Lizhen said, "Take this, let Wu Yueming or someone help you apply the medicine, it'll heal faster."
Wan Kun still didn't speak, the room excessively quiet, the silence pressing against her ears.
He Lizhen didn't look into Wan Kun's eyes, yet felt this silence was somewhat unbearable—crushing. Just then, the school bell rang, saving her from drowning. He Lizhen put the medicine on the dusty table and turned to leave.
"Are you afraid others will find out you hurt a student?"
He Lizhen's hand, which was gripping the doorknob, paused. The person behind her approached, Wan Kun spoke softly above her head, his tone unreadable—neither accusation nor absolution.
"Don't worry, no one knows."
Her hand was covered by his—large, warm, pressing down. The doorknob was pressed down, and Wan Kun walked past He Lizhen and left the room. He Lizhen turned her head, the two boxes of medicine on the table were still untouched, like rejected apologies.
She put the medicine back into her pocket and returned to her office, the weight of them heavier than before.
Wednesday soon arrived.
A day in advance, No. 2 Middle School held a teachers' meeting, where Director Jiang gave a brief overview of the teaching and research activities for the next two days. Frankly, it was just a learning experience; we'd attend classes, take notes, and be just like students. Director Jiang, 48 years old and a former Chinese language teacher, was old-fashioned and very concerned with appearances—the school's reputation his sacred trust.
"This teaching and research activity isn't just for our school; teachers from seven or eight schools will be participating, so everyone must pay attention to school discipline. All teachers will be wearing uniforms tomorrow."
Peng Qian said, pursing her lips as she spoke, which He Lizhen noticed, and she made a face at her in silent solidarity.
"Let's meet at the school gate tomorrow," Peng Qian said to He Lizhen after the meeting. "Teacher Liu lives quite far; she can go directly from there."
"Okay."
Having agreed on a time, He Lizhen and Peng Qian met at the No. 2 Middle School gate at 8:30 the next morning and went to Yuying Middle School together. They found the teaching and research group at the school. The class He Lizhen was to observe was a Chinese language class in the senior year experimental class, which started earliest.
The teacher was a male teacher named Li Changjia. He was young, around thirty years old, slender, and wore glasses, exuding a scholarly air that seemed to belong to another era.
The day's lesson was a review of classical Chinese poems frequently appearing in the college entrance examination. Actually, by the first semester of senior year, most courses were almost finished, leaving only review and practice. However, Li Changjia's lesson was remarkably engaging, as if it were his first time teaching, lively and interesting—even He Lizhen listened with great interest, temporarily forgetting her troubles.
After class, Li Changjia, as the supervising teacher, held a teaching research meeting with six or seven other Chinese language teachers. He Lizhen asked Li Changjia several questions at the meeting, which Li Changjia patiently answered with thoughtful consideration. The Chinese language group's teaching research activity concluded successfully by noon.
He Lizhen said goodbye to Peng Qian and left Yuying first. On her way back, she received a call from Shang Jie.
"Hello? Lizhen, where are you?!" Shang Jie, as always, made the call with a commanding presence that cut through the afternoon heat.
He Lizhen said, "I just finished an event and I'm on my way home now. The event lasts two days, both in the morning, so it's like having the afternoon off."
"That's perfect timing!" Shang Jie said, enthusiasm bubbling through the phone. "I'm going back to the city anyway, and I'm free today, so I'll come see you."
He Lizhen said, "Sure, when will you be there?"
"In about two hours."
"Okay, can you find my school? I'll wait for you there."
"I can find it, just wait!"
He Lizhen hung up the phone and turned to walk towards the school, the afternoon sun warm on her shoulders.
Because of the teaching and research activities, the school's senior year classes were adjusted, with Wednesday and Thursday classes moved to Monday and Tuesday of the following week. That means He Lizhen will have to teach four classes a day for two consecutive days next week—a marathon of instruction.
He Lizhen returned to her office to wait for Shang Jie. The office was empty; she was the only one there, the silence almost companionable after the morning's bustle.
He Lizhen heard sounds of children playing on the playground outside the window. She went over, stood by the window, and looked out. Two classes were having physical education class; the boys were playing ball on the court, while the girls were still chatting in small groups, their laughter drifting up.
Suddenly, cheers erupted from the basketball court. He Lizhen looked over and saw a boy leap high, snatching the ball from mid-air with athletic grace.
It was Wu Yueming.
He was there, but where was Wan Kun?
He Lizhen unconsciously turned her eyes, searching the playground with something like concern before finally spotting someone sitting in the stands.
Wan Kun sat there quietly, smoking, completely alone—isolated.
The no-smoking rule seemed like a joke on this campus.
Looking at him, He Lizhen couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't gone to play because the burn on his back hadn't healed. Thinking of this, Wan Kun's words seemed to echo in her ears again—
"Are you afraid people will find out you hurt a student? Don't worry, nobody knows."
He Lizhen took a breath, feeling a surge of anger rising in her chest, without reason, excuse, or any outlet for it—a trapped thing beating against her ribs.
She stood there at the window, watching him watch nothing, two people separated by glass and guilt and everything that couldn't be said.
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