Chapter Fifty-Two: The Opening Ceremony

“Let us row our twin oars, the little boat gently parts the waves, the water reflects the beautiful White Pagoda, surrounded by green trees and red walls…”
“The little boat glides lightly, drifting on the water, a cool breeze greets us…”
For those born in the 1960s and 70s, this song was an absolute must—you had to have heard it, and most likely sung it as well! It was the theme song from a film, and later became a staple at any large-scale school event. The reason was simple: there were far too few songs suitable for children, and not many more for adults either.

At this moment, Hong Tao and Jin Yue were standing on the playground of Yonghe Palace Primary School, attending the opening ceremony of the new school year. If Hong Tao had a choice between being hospitalized and going to school, he’d rather be in the hospital. No matter how boring a hospital stay might be, at least he would be surrounded by adults—someone to chat with, share a joke. But at school, especially in primary school, though he was surrounded by people, it might as well have been no one at all, because they were all seven-year-old children.

If a forty-year-old person could spend every day playing with a group of seven-year-olds and not feel stifled, it could only be for one of the following reasons: First, he’s a primary school teacher—regardless of annoyance, it’s his job. Second, he’s a sports coach—again, it’s his job. Third, all those children are his own, and he happens to be especially fond of kids. Fourth, he is intellectually disabled, with a mental capacity of a six- or seven-year-old, making him perfectly at home. None of these applied to Hong Tao, so he could only feel depressed, irritated, and despairing…

He had tried to think of many ways, just as he’d managed to avoid kindergarten, to somehow avoid primary school too. But no matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t come up with a practical way to skip a whole five years. Oh, and now it was six years—Hong Tao happened to catch the wave of the new education reform in Beijing, and the original five-year primary school had become six!

“Da Jiang, did you bring candy today?” Because Hong Tao was the tallest, he stood at the end of the line for Class One, Grade One. In front of him was a familiar back—Zhang Da Jiang!

“Yes, it’s in my bag. I’ll give you some when we get back to the classroom!” Zhang Da Jiang was singing at the top of his lungs, missing four and a half out of five notes, with the last half not even making a sound. When Hong Tao poked him in the back, he turned around immediately, flashing his signature grin as he answered.

“Why did you ignore me in the classroom just now? Don’t you recognize me anymore?” Hong Tao had finally found someone willing to chat with him during the opening ceremony and wasn’t about to let him off easily. He’d find something to say, even if there was nothing.

“You’ve gotten so tall…” Zhang Da Jiang gestured at their heights. Back in kindergarten, they’d been about the same, maybe he’d even been taller, but now Hong Tao was half a head above him. From his perspective, any peer taller than him must seem intimidating.

“Isn’t being tall a good thing? Look around—all kids here, and there are second, third, and fourth graders too. If we weren’t tall, could we take them on? Don’t you think?” Hong Tao glanced behind. The first graders, the little ones, were all at the very front of the playground, right by the concrete platform; behind them were all the older students.

“My dad says good kids don’t fight,” Zhang Da Jiang glanced back too, then quickly averted his eyes.

“Your dad only told you half of it. That saying comes from our great leader Chairman Mao, and the original words are: ‘Children who hit others are not good children, but those who get hit are even worse!’ Got it?” Since he had nothing else to do, Hong Tao decided to teach Zhang Da Jiang a bit about primary school life.

“Then… I’ll ask my dad when I get home.” Zhang Da Jiang pondered hard, still not sure whether he was a good kid or not, so he opted for the safest approach.

“No need to ask your dad. From now on, just stick with me. Whoever I fight, you fight too. If anyone bullies us, we’ll fight them together! Come on, I used to eat your candy, now let me share mine with you. See—White Rabbit creamy candy, bought at the Department Store!” To impress Zhang Da Jiang, Hong Tao pulled out a piece of the famous candy from his pocket—this time telling the truth; he’d really bought it from the Department Store. Since leaving the hospital, he’d ventured as far as Chang’an Avenue, having visited both the Department Store and Dongfeng Market.

“Yours… tastes… much better than mine…” Zhang Da Jiang couldn’t resist the allure of the sweet milk candy. Looking around furtively, he finally popped the unwrapped candy Hong Tao had handed him into his mouth.

“Hey, Little Yue, your brother’s over here!” Hong Tao wasn’t idle either. He crumpled the candy wrapper into a ball and lobbed it at Jin Yue’s head a few steps away, hitting her right on target.

“Hmph!… You stole my candy! You’re so mean!” Jin Yue stood ramrod straight. When the paper ball hit her, she turned and snorted, then spotted the familiar candy wrapper on the ground. She instantly pouted with displeasure—when Hong Tao had bought the candy, he’d said it was for her, and she remembered that. Anyone else eating it counted as stealing.

“Hehehehe…” Hong Tao shrank behind Zhang Da Jiang, making faces at Jin Yue. The fair-skinned girl standing in front of Jin Yue also turned, but when Hong Tao stuck his tongue out, she quickly turned away again.

“Class One, Grade One—the last student in line! What are you doing?” Suddenly, a roar thundered from the platform, so powerful that even the school’s loudspeakers began to screech.

“Jin Yue, the teacher’s calling you!” Hong Tao, peeking from behind Zhang Da Jiang, saw Vice Principal Li glaring furiously in their direction, so he called out to Jin Yue again.

Jin Yue ignored him completely, not even turning her head.

“Hong Tao! You again! First day of school and you’re already causing trouble. Why did you throw a paper ball at a girl? Come up here on stage!” Vice Principal Li had sharp eyes and immediately recognized the half-exposed head. He was even angrier now, hands planted on his hips in a show of readiness for battle.

“Hello, Teacher Li!” Hong Tao hadn’t wanted to go up, but the two rows in front of him had already parted to let him through. Even Zhang Da Jiang and Jin Yue had stepped aside, leaving him exposed. He had no choice but to head up.

“Now you’re being polite? Why did you throw a paper ball at a girl?” Vice Principal Li wasn’t about to let Hong Tao off. He’d never liked this boy—every time his daughter came home crying, Hong Tao was the cause. Though Hong Tao had seemed to settle down in the past two years, every time Vice Principal Li saw him reading the newspaper at Director Bai’s desk, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger. Today, Director Bai happened to be at a district meeting and the opening ceremony was under Vice Principal Li’s charge. He hadn’t thought of Hong Tao at all—until the boy delivered himself, giving him the perfect chance to make an example of him for his daughter’s sake.

“I didn’t mean to throw it; it just happened to land on her head,” Hong Tao insisted, refusing to admit guilt.

“Fine. Then why were you eating in school? Your father’s a teacher—hasn’t he told you to stand and sit properly in class, not to talk or eat?” Vice Principal Li pressed on, even bringing Hong Tao’s father into it.

“I was recently hospitalized. The doctor said I’m malnourished and may have low blood sugar. If I feel dizzy, I need to eat some candy. My dad told me that at his school, if students don’t want to listen to a lecture, they can just leave. The better the teacher, the more students in their class.” Hong Tao hadn’t meant to provoke him—after all, it was only the first day of school, and there was no point causing trouble. Even if he didn’t care about Vice Principal Li, there was no need to create problems for his parents. But since Vice Principal Li had brought up his father as if implying poor upbringing, that was something he couldn’t accept.

“You… fine, fine… Go stand in the corridor and reflect. When you realize your mistake, you can come back to class!” Vice Principal Li sputtered, unable to find a rebuttal. Who could tell on the spot whether Hong Tao was sick or not? And at the university, aside from the main lectures, students really could choose their classes. It was his own fault for asking a question with a loophole, which Hong Tao had caught. But at that time, teachers were absolute authority—intellectually and morally. They could not be challenged. Right or wrong, their word was law. Challenge them, and the result was always the same: stand in the corridor, or go home and bring your parents.

Thus, on the very first day of school, Hong Tao managed to attract the attention of the entire student body across twelve grades—not only did he ascend the platform, but he also became the first student of the year to be punished with corridor standing.

“Xiao Tao, do you have any more candy? Give me one!” After the opening ceremony, his younger uncle was the first to approach him, not to comfort him, but to ask for candy.

“Uncle, that’s not fair! When you had to stand in the corridor, I always brought you water and candy. Now it’s my turn, and I still have to give you candy? Didn’t I give you five pieces this morning?” Hong Tao glanced at the bulging mouth of Hu Dan next to his uncle and knew exactly where the candy had gone.

“Just give me two more and I’ll help you tighten the screws tonight, alright?” His uncle’s room had been built before summer, and he’d already moved in—no longer sharing a room with Grandma. Moving in with him were all of Hong Tao’s knickknacks. The room, as Hong Tao had designed, was divided into a large and small chamber. His uncle lived in the main room; the small one, just four or five square meters, was Hong Tao’s storeroom for his bicycle parts and collectibles.

In the end, his uncle got his way and swindled two more White Rabbit candies from Hong Tao, which would probably end up in some girl’s mouth before long. His uncle was nearly sixteen now, beginning to learn how to woo girls. He was no longer content to wear whatever the family gave him, and would even ask his third sister to alter his clothes. The most obvious sign was a broken mirror shard from who-knows-where in his room, which he used to check his appearance several times a day.