Chapter 3, The Reverse Journey (Part 2)
Zhao Chunian let out a sigh of relief, "That's good. In any case, please do not misunderstand. I do not have a very good temper; when someone steps on my tail, I can become furious. I will be more careful in the future"
Zhao Chunian displayed the first look of surprise tonight, deliberately sizing her up from head to toe: "I didn't know there were such thin meatballs in the world"
... ...
It was a winding alley, resembling countless crawling earthworms and water snakes, stretching endlessly, dim and profound, with one segment followed by another. The houses on either side silently gazed at each other, their walls painted in such dark hues that no windows could be seen; the walls were damp and mottled, covered in slick moss; those dull-colored doors, made of inferior wood soaked by water, emitted a scent reminiscent of decaying wet mushrooms. The houses on either side silently gazed at each other, their walls painted in such dark hues that no windows could be seen; the walls were damp and mottled, covered in slick moss; those dull-colored doors, made of inferior wood soaked by water, emitted a scent reminiscent of decaying wet mushrooms.
The wind howled on the other end of the phone, making Zhao Chunian's voice somewhat unclear.
Meng Ti interrupted him, shaking her head repeatedly: "You don't need to explain anything to me. The Zheng family is quite nice, and Teacher Zhao, you might want to consider it. Moreover, no matter how you look at it, Uncle Zheng is the head of the institute, which would also be beneficial for your future development at the school"
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Note: The italicized portions refer to excerpts from the novel mentioned in the article
Ding dong. Ding dong
The novel spans over 100,000 words and recounts events that occurred over approximately six months. The narrative employs no particular techniques, presenting a straightforward and unembellished account, with each word meticulously dissected into the daily occurrences of those six months, culminating in the entirety of the novel. It does not mention why the single father is single, nor does it ever introduce the child's mother; even passersby are rarely depicted, and there is a notable absence of dialogue. The prose is so detailed that it evokes a sense of dread, allowing one to imagine the scenes that must have unfolded in the author's mind as these events were penned. It does not mention why the single father is single, nor does it ever introduce the child's mother; even passersby are rarely depicted, and there is a notable absence of dialogue. The prose is so detailed that it evokes a sense of dread, allowing one to imagine the scenes that must have unfolded in the author's mind as these events were penned
The uneven bluestone path, with several stacked stones rising and falling, small shrubs struggle to turn green from the gaps in the soil at the corner of the wall. The mosquitoes in the ditch buzz and fly, resembling human voices. In the distance, someone has lit a coal stove, and the white, hazy smoke drifts over, scattered by the moisture on the ground; a man carrying a child shuffles forward with zombie-like steps, hunching his body as he walks by. The one tending the stove is an astonishingly overweight middle-aged woman, with no soft lines on her body, her flesh quivering all over, and her eyes wide open like copper bells, expressing anger towards the outsider intruding into Fulaixiang.
No matter how dull she was, Meng Ti could sense that Zhao Chunian's words were laced with hidden barbs. They were not necessarily malicious mockery, but the dissatisfaction and derision embedded in his words were so thick that it felt as if they might splash out from him. Meng Ti's face flushed instantly, thinking to herself why he had to retort at her for no reason. She had no intention of meddling; she was merely considering him. If he was ungrateful, that was fine, but did he really need to use such a tone? She held back her feelings, swallowing her words one by one, and lost the desire to continue walking with him. She immediately stopped smiling and pointed ahead.
"I am just talking nonsense and meddling in others' affairs," Meng Ti no longer looked at him, "The west gate of the school is just ahead, Teacher Zhao, you should know the way by now. I am going back. Goodbye"
The book "The Reverse Journey" is just over 100 pages long, a thin volume that tells the story of a single father leading a busy life with his two children. It is quite different from Fan Ye's other works, with a significantly different style. Fan Ye's other works tend to be more commercialized, with plots that are relatively more readable, following certain conventions and formulas. In his novels, events often begin with an accident or a detail, and then escalate, leading the characters' psychology towards obsession, resulting in endings that readers could never have imagined, yet feel entirely logical. Reading it can be breathless with excitement, while in its somber and mournful moments, it can evoke a flood of tears from the readers.
How could it be acceptable for her to apologize so humbly to someone who is also her teacher? Meng Ti quickly replied, but was interrupted by a call from Zhao Chunian halfway through typing her message. As soon as the call connected, before she could say anything, Zhao Chunian immediately said: "Meng Ti, I am sorry"
Last night's rainwater condensed into beads the size of longan, clattering as they rolled over the black ceramic tiles on the roof beams, cascading down from the eaves in succession. Thick, dense moss had grown on the tiles, layers of it piled upon layers like corpses. The sun appeared as a translucent film stuck in the sky, while the overcast sky wilted like petals, resembling the face of the man who walked into the alley with two children, so thin that only a layer of skin remained, easily pierced by a finger, revealing the stark white bones beneath. Behind him followed a gaunt little boy, struggling to carry a canvas backpack nearly his size, his face turned a bluish-purple from the biting cold and dampness.
Zhao Chunian's eyes sparkled as he said, "Hmm," and then asked, "How is your brother? Is he good to you?"
How can they feel at ease leaving you home alone? Are you not afraid
In the heavily polluted metropolis, few stars are visible, and even the moon is obscured behind the clouds. There is a hazy glow of moonlight on her face, which moved Zhao Chunian to reach out and take a willow leaf from her shoulder, holding it in his palm: "During dinner, I heard Director Zheng mention that your parents are not in the country? Where have they gone?"
"No way," Meng Ti firmly refused, "It's embarrassing to even talk about it, how could I possibly show you the photos! They all laugh at me for being a little sugar dumpling, and Ruo Sheng even said that I was so chubby that my features were unrecognizable, I could just roll onto the field and be kicked like a ball. My pure and innocent little heart has been seriously hurt..." At this point, she glanced at Zhao Chunian, whose expression changed slightly, and suddenly stopped speaking, "Ruo Sheng was just joking; we were all young back then. Teacher Zhao, don't take it to heart, Ruo Sheng is actually a really nice person and very pretty." They all laugh at me for being a little sugar dumpling, and Ruo Sheng even said that I was so chubby that my features were unrecognizable, I could just roll onto the field and be kicked like a ball. My pure and innocent little heart has been seriously hurt..." At this point, she glanced at Zhao Chunian, whose expression changed slightly, and suddenly stopped speaking, "Ruo Sheng was just joking; we were all young back then. Teacher Zhao, don't take it to heart, Ruo Sheng is actually a really nice person and very pretty."
He is very intelligent, excels in his studies, and is good at sports," Zhao Chunian unconsciously repeated, looking at her cheerful expression, and then asked, "So you siblings must look very similar, right?
Subsequently, the two individuals fell silent simultaneously. After the tension eased, such awkward situations inevitably arose, much like two animals that had just fought negotiating peace, each step taken was a veiled test of the other. Meng Ti found it difficult to continue the conversation and was unsure of what to say. She vaguely sensed that if she did not hang up, Zhao Chunian would absolutely not take the initiative to say the words "goodbye." Therefore, she said, "Oh, alright, Teacher Zhao, please take care on your way."
Meng Ti felt that his concerns were quite amusing, and he couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Hey, Teacher Zhao, I'm an adult now, okay? I'll be twenty-two next year. Which of my classmates isn't coming to university alone from far away? Many of them don't even go home during the winter and summer breaks. Besides, I'm a local here; who would dare to mess with me? Moreover, I enjoy being home alone; I live in a big house, no one to supervise me, and I can sleep whenever I want."
The child on the man's back sleeps unaware of the world, with sparse hair, extremely light-colored eyebrows, and a bald forehead, making it impossible to discern whether the child is a boy or a girl. The child's complexion is an abnormal rosy hue, yet it reveals a sickly pallor. The man shifts the child's weight to his left hand, freeing his right hand—this hand is covered in countless cracks, with both dried and fresh bloodstains. The man remains silent; his face is so emaciated that no trace of worry can be seen. From fingers that are nothing but bones, he pulls out a wad of scattered banknotes from his pants pocket. The man shifts the child's weight to his left hand, freeing his right hand—this hand is covered in countless cracks, with both dried and fresh bloodstains. The man remains silent; his face is so emaciated that no trace of worry can be seen. From fingers that are nothing but bones, he pulls out a wad of scattered banknotes from his pants pocket.
However, this book "The Reverse Journey" is completely different
Zhao Chunian stood still, eagerly waiting for her words. His eyes were bright, and wherever his gaze fell, it resembled a warm ray of sunshine. She was surprised by the formation of this thought, smiled slightly, and continued: "My brother is twelve years older than me, a whole cycle. Perhaps the age gap is too significant, and we don't have much in common. He doesn't talk much, but he cares for me deeply. My brother is very intelligent, excels in both academics and sports. After graduating from university, he went to the United States and is now an aircraft engineer. I now ask him about any problems I have in my mathematics major."
Meng Ti flipped back to the first page of the novel. It began with a ragged, weary father appearing in a narrow alley with two children.
After hanging up the phone, Meng Ti felt somewhat unsettled, pondering for a while what Zhao Chunian truly meant, but ultimately could not grasp the essence of it, so she abandoned that thought. When she picked up the book "The Reverse Journey" from her bedside, her mindset shifted to something entirely different.
In the night, the distant houses appear hazy and indistinct, with the buildings and trees nourished by the darkness, seeming to rise higher than during the day. The glow of the teaching building flickers, creating a luminous expanse, while occasionally, small groups of students and teachers ride their bicycles past. The night is soothing, akin to a piano piece, swaying the rustling leaves, with an occasional leaf drifting down, as beautiful as poetry. Although I have grown accustomed to such scenery over the years, I find it never tiresome.
Perhaps the most tranquil places in the world are libraries and university campuses at night
"Yes, in the car," Zhao Chunian's voice was very low.
Open the text messages. The first message contains only three simple words: "I'm sorry," and the sending time is shortly after they just broke up. The second message was sent a few minutes ago: "I spoke thoughtlessly just now, it was very unpleasant. Meng Ti, I am very sorry. You may not know my phone number; I am Zhao Chunian."
"There is no such thing; you are overthinking it," Zhao Chunian waved his hand. "I didn't know this meal had any matchmaking implications. Dean Zheng said to go to his house for a simple meal; I didn't think much of it at all. I didn't even have time to prepare a gift, let alone refuse in person."
"When I was young, I was like a meatball. I only slimmed down in high school," Meng Ti said. "My mother said that she was in her early forties when she gave birth to me, which is considered advanced maternal age. Her health condition was not very good, so I was born malnourished, looking like a little bean. They were worried that I wouldn't grow up well, so they took me to see a traditional Chinese medicine doctor, who prescribed me various supplements to take, and as a result, I just kept getting fatter..."
Zhao Chunian listened attentively, placing the warmed willow leaf into his pocket, and said: "Meng Ti, when will you show me a picture of your meat dumplings?"
Meng Ti spoke of this with great enthusiasm, hardly paying attention to his own actions: "They went to the United States to take care of my sister-in-law. Last month, my brother called back to say that my sister-in-law is pregnant, but the position of the fetus seems to be a bit abnormal and requires someone to take care of her. My brother is busy with work and cannot provide care, so he called back for help. My sister-in-law's parents are very busy, but they do not speak English and cannot go to the United States. My parents happened to retire last year, so they flew over."
Well, if we really delve into it, everyone says that my brother and I don't really resemble each other. Meng Ti pouted, "My brother is very thin, but I look like a little meatball, rolling around."
Her demeanor and the way she handled the books were straightforward and forceful, and after speaking, she turned and left. At first, she was angry that her good intentions were taken for granted, but later she felt she was being overly concerned. The teacher was just a bit more amiable, and she lost her sense of propriety. Not to mention that they had no close relationship; even if they did, there are still profound principles that should be observed.
Meng Tixin felt a tightness in her chest and quickly said several times that it was fine. "Teacher Zhao, I didn't have my phone with me. I only saw the message when I got home and was just thinking about replying when you called. Actually, it's my fault for lacking grace and turning to leave. Teacher Zhao, please don't take it to heart."
There are still a few remnants of lotus leaves by the lake, and the mist carries the fresh fragrance of the lotus leaves, enveloping him. Zhao Chunian slowed his pace: "Did you grow up here?"
Zhao Chunian said: "Good night"
Zhao Chunian suddenly halted, standing still in place. Meng Ti initially did not notice, but after walking a few steps, she realized he had not followed. She quickly turned around, intending to ask with a smile, "Teacher Zhao, why aren't you moving?" However, she found him standing under the streetlight, his lips still curved in an attractive arc, but the warmth and joy in his eyes had completely vanished. "Meng Ti, how old are you? How many relationships have you had? Why do you enjoy engaging in conflicts with others so much?"
The boy finally lifted his hooked head, his pale face adorned with a pair of pitch-black eyes. He spoke in a somewhat unskilled local dialect: "We want to rent a house"
"Indeed, I grew up here," Meng Ti said, glancing around, her heart stirred with warm emotions, a smile curving her brows. "So I am quite familiar with it, and I have deep feelings for it."
As she walked home, she mentally prepared herself for the unpleasant incident, and by the time she returned home, her mood had largely returned to calm. After taking a shower and lying on the bed, she habitually picked up her phone to check the time and discovered two unread messages. The sender's phone number was very familiar; she had a natural talent for remembering numbers and immediately realized it was Zhao Chunian's phone number. Holding the phone, she was slightly taken aback. When Zhao Chunian had asked her for her phone number yesterday, she hadn't truly believed he would call, and she hadn't saved it in her phone.
"Teacher Zhao, you have a very good temper; do not belittle yourself. I feel utterly ashamed." Meng Ti deliberately tried to ease the conversation, "Are you on your way home?"