Chapter Fifteen: A Home Visit

"Um...young man, what you said makes sense and is worth our reflection. But Director Bai hasn't done anything wrong either. Your...well, your mind may be more mature than your body, but you're still a child. As teachers, we're responsible for your safety, don't you agree? Director Bai, don't take a child's words to heart—children speak without filters. I need to get to class now, though honestly, I’d love to sit here and chat with him some more..." The male teacher who had just been sitting across from Hongtao and had nearly spat out his tea was the first to speak. This time, he didn't use that coaxing tone reserved for children but addressed Hongtao as an equal, then offered a few words of comfort to Director Bai, whose face was still shifting colors behind Hongtao. Only then did he pick up his textbooks and leave the room. The remaining teachers followed suit, leaving just Hongtao and Director Bai in the office.

"Children really do speak their minds... Well, then, I owe you an apology," Director Bai said, pulling up a chair to sit beside Hongtao. "But I still need to discuss your situation with your father. It’s not out of curiosity, but responsibility. I won’t be tattling, and it’s not as if you’ve done anything wrong. This won’t affect your interest in learning, will it?" She reached out, intending to pat Hongtao’s head, but seeing the reluctance in his eyes, she withdrew her hand.

"I understand, and I don’t object to you speaking with my father. I just hope you’ll consider things from my perspective as well. Let me be frank: I’m not quite like other children my age, or even those older than me—as you might have noticed. The main reason I don’t want to go to kindergarten is that I have nothing in common with those kids. But I also don’t want to start elementary school too early, because I have nothing in common with those students either. I just want a couple of years to relax on my own." Hongtao deliberately got up and walked a half-circle around the office, glancing around to make sure they were alone before continuing his conversation with Director Bai.

"But eventually you’ll have to go to elementary school, right? Without that, you can’t go to middle school, and then you can’t..." Director Bai heard him out, but didn’t quite grasp the full picture.

"I will go to elementary school, but not too early. I think enrolling at the normal age is best," Hongtao reiterated.

"But...what’s wrong with starting a year or two early? You have the ability—wouldn’t it be a waste not to use it?" Director Bai persisted.

"My mind might be ready, but I’m not sure my body is. If I end up getting bullied in class and can’t defend myself, wouldn’t that kill my interest in learning? Yes, I know you and the other teachers can and would look out for me, but you can’t sit by my side every day. I don’t want to be seen as a freak. I want to have my own friends and classmates, so I think it’s best to wait until my body catches up." What Hongtao said was mostly true, just phrased more politely and tactfully.

"You really have thought this through...and you’re right, the age gap is a big problem... Hongtao, be honest with me—how far have you gotten with your self-study? Don’t tell me this is your first day. I may not be as smart as you, but I’m not an idiot! You read the newspaper when you came in, didn’t you? We all saw it—you didn’t just look at it, you understood it, didn’t you?" Director Bai was clearly uncomfortable speaking to a child in such an adult manner, and even more unsettled having a child speak to her like an adult. But reality left her no choice; she would have to get used to it.

"I’m not really sure myself—about at the level of a second grader, maybe... But let me be clear: please don’t make me do any tests, I can’t write a word. Director Bai—Aunt Bai—please go easy on me. My only real request is that I don’t have to go to daycare or start school too early. Everything else you can discuss with my father. I promise my self-study won’t fall behind, and I’ll be extra careful about my own safety. In fact, I’m more afraid of death and pain than anyone. I always cross the street by the traffic lights—stop, look, and go. Is that acceptable? Also, our conversation today stays between us. If anyone else hears about it, I’ll deny every word. I trust your character, that’s why I’m opening up to you. I’ve never even told my parents this. Being trusted is a wonderful thing, and I hope things don’t end badly between us. Wouldn’t you agree?" Hongtao felt he had made himself clear and didn’t want to continue the conversation. Whether or not Director Bai could keep her promise was out of his hands.

In truth, Hongtao wasn’t especially worried about Director Bai spreading things around. If he wanted, he could always play dumb—no one could do anything to him. Being a four-year-old was the perfect cover. The reason he’d been so open with Director Bai today was partly circumstance and partly because he remembered her from his past—she was a responsible and upright teacher, and had even been his homeroom teacher for a year. Hongtao hoped to pave the way for himself when he eventually enrolled, giving Director Bai a heads-up so she wouldn’t be too shocked later. If she understood him, things would go much more smoothly when he started school.

"First, I have to thank you for trusting me...but your attitude in this conversation leaves a lot to be desired. Your father’s a teacher—did he teach you to speak like this?" Director Bai understood the meaning behind Hongtao’s words and didn’t object, but she was a little annoyed at being warned or threatened by a child.

"Director Bai, if you’d come at me today as a teacher, I wouldn’t have said half as much. I’d just drop a few tears, have a good cry, and you’d have to send me home. Otherwise, my grandfather would show up first thing tomorrow, drag you to the principal’s office, and argue with you all morning. That’s me being conservative. The reason I’m talking to you like this is because I see you as an elder—and a friend. Like I said, I trust your character." Hongtao didn’t back down, even bringing up his grandfather, whose reputation for arguing with teachers at parent-teacher meetings was well-known in the school.

"…Just read your newspaper. Don’t touch anything else on the teachers’ desks. And don’t leave this room. After school, we’ll go to your house together so I can meet your parents." Director Bai’s chest heaved with emotion; after a long struggle, she still couldn’t figure out how to handle this child and decided it was best not to look at him for a while. She walked out, closing the door behind her.

Hongtao wasn’t in a hurry to leave. There were plenty of newspapers in the office, and he took the opportunity to get a sense of the country’s current state—something his childhood memories lacked. At his age, he’d hardly cared about politics, society, or economics—kids just wanted to play. Now he could finally fill in the gaps.

The office desk of the Director of Academic Affairs became Hongtao’s study desk. On the left, a stack of unread newspapers; those he finished went on the right. There weren’t many newspapers at the time—the school only subscribed to two: People’s Daily and Guangming Daily.

As for the teachers coming and going, Hongtao ignored them all. He answered no questions, except for a polite greeting and a silly grin before burying his head back in the paper. The teachers who’d witnessed his conversation with Director Bai became unofficial messengers, and it wasn’t long before everyone knew who Hongtao was and what he was about. After a few failed attempts at conversation, the teachers went back to their own business.

At that time, there were usually two or three more classes in the afternoon. Students could leave after class, but teachers had to stay until 5:30. Director Bai didn’t reappear until the end of the day—either she had other work to do, or she simply didn’t want to risk another confrontation with Hongtao in front of all the teachers and chose to avoid him.

"Let’s go. Take me to your house. You can bring these newspapers with you, just return them tomorrow—don’t lose or damage them." Only when it was time to leave did Director Bai return to her office. Looking at the two stacks of newspapers on the desk, she smacked her lips but restrained herself from asking any more questions.

"Goodbye, teachers!" Hongtao deftly gathered the stack of unread newspapers, cradled them against his chest, and walked out the office door, not forgetting to bid farewell to the few teachers still inside.

"What a prodigy! No wonder Director Bai is so concerned—a four-year-old engrossed in central editorials. I’ve taught language arts half my life, but today’s the first time I’ve seen anything like this! A prodigy...an absolute prodigy!" The teacher who had been sitting across from Hongtao, Teacher Sun, packed up his things, slung his bag over his shoulder, and, passing the desk where Hongtao had sat, picked up the top newspaper Hongtao had read, leafed through it, and left, shaking his head in amazement.

Hongtao led Director Bai back to his house. His father wasn’t home yet—though he finished work earlier, his commute meant he usually arrived after six. Hongtao dared not take Director Bai to his grandmother’s, fearing his grandfather would assume she was there to complain, and he had never been fond of home visits from teachers.

"Director Bai, this is where my dad reads. Please, have a seat. Oh, and could I trouble you to put the kettle on the stove for me? I don’t have the strength to lift it." Hongtao didn’t invite Director Bai into the inner room—there was little difference between the rooms anyway. In those days, few families owned sofas; when guests came, they either sat on the bed or on wooden chairs.