Explore Chapter 12 of "牛天赐传" with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
Innocence is a child's weapon, and hope is the mother's own "pill." Tianci's innocence and his mother's hope gradually healed the family's discord. After all, a mother must care for her child; being hands-off is an idea one may entertain, but in reality it is impossible. Tianci still had to go to school; it would be a sin to let a tantrum interfere with the child's education. Old Mrs. Niu was formidable, but not so foolish as that.
This time, they decided to send him to school. According to their investigation, the best elementary school in Cloud City was the Affiliated Primary School of Normal School. The children who studied there all came from well-to-do families; there were none of the so-called wild children that Mrs. Niu spoke of. The tuition and expenses were higher than elsewhere.
Tianci put on his short mandarin jacket again. With his father accompanying him, he was not at all afraid, thinking it was just another outing. When they arrived at the school, his father handed him over to a teacher. Seeing his father walking away, he felt a pang of panic; he had never been separated from an adult before. At home, everything was managed by his mother, but now he was left on his own and did not know what to do. He dared not cry, afraid of being laughed at-his mother's various fears were always in his mind. When he saw so many children, he became even more flustered. He had never imagined a place could have so many children, and it frightened him. He did not know how to approach them. It was true that he had played with Old Black's children, but these children were not like that. The older ones were almost all dressed in snow-white uniforms, some were boy scouts, and they all laughed at him maliciously-short mandarin jacket! The younger ones also looked very sharp, some rolling hoops, some bouncing small balls, looking very pleased with themselves, and he could hardly understand what they said. These children were not as much fun as Old Black's children; they were not very friendly with each other either: "I'll tell the teacher on you!" "If I don't tell on you, I'll be damned!" were always on their lips. They seemed unable to laugh, but would squeeze their eyes and titter. The older ones would sometimes grab two younger ones and bump their heads together, or pinch a nose, and then titter and walk away. Only when the older ones were far away would the younger ones shout, "I'll tell on you!" As for the younger ones, they also played tricks on each other. Some would poke a finger at another's ankle if the sock had a hole; some would knock another's hat to the ground: "I'll buy you a new one, okay? Dad has plenty of money!" Then the boy scouts would come to maintain order, grab one and give him a kick. The kicked child would mutter, "And he calls himself a boy scout!" The boy scouts would run after him with a stick: "Hey, foul language! I'll report you to the teacher!" They whistled, they ran on tiptoe, they tittered... Tianci watched and felt terribly lonely. He wanted to go home. The new students were all like him, each looking stupefied in new clothes, feeling wronged. They watched the older children buy bread, tiles, fried dough twists and so on to eat; they also had coins in their pockets, but dared not buy. A child with an eight-edged head-who had already studied for three years but was still in the same grade as the new students-came over to them and offered to take them to buy snacks, but none of them went. They looked at each other, with tears in their eyes.
The bell rang. The older children all ran to line up, while Tianci and the others stood dazed. A very small child, seeing the others run, also ran, got caught in the crowd, fell, and burst into tears. Eight-Edge Head came again-he was lacking in knowledge but rich in experience-and hustled them to form a line. The teacher also arrived and told them how to line up, but no matter what, they could not understand. The teacher was a short man in his thirties, with a flat face, black teeth, and a strong Shanxi accent. He was a famous educator who had written two books on education. Apart from being helpless with new students, he was almost a perfect elementary school teacher. Tianci did not like his flat face. After a long time of trying to line them up without success, he thought for a moment, nodded to himself, and then went to each one, pulling them into place and giving each a slap on the neck: "You stand here!" The children did not really understand the meaning of "stand", but the slap on the neck worked; no one moved anymore. The teacher felt that this method was far superior to his educational theories, so the slap on the neck got louder and louder, and the line became very orderly. They lined up again, and again. A bald little boy wet his pants. Tianci was also holding it in, afraid of wetting his pants, so while in line, he lifted his shirt and urinated. The others saw him and also lifted their shirts. Seeing that things were getting out of hand, the teacher formed up the line and first went to the bathroom. There was no such move in the teacher's educational theories; he had focused only on matters inside the classroom, forgetting that students also had bodily functions.
In the classroom, Tianci was not short for his age and sat in the middle. He thought the small desks and chairs were fun, but sitting in them was very uncomfortable. The teacher told everyone to sit up straight, but they did not understand. The teacher was at a loss again and had to resort to slap on the neck. "Sit up straight!" Slap! "Sit up straight!" Slap! Then he went up to the platform, looked down, and indeed they were sitting straight. He felt that there was a need to revise his educational principles. He began to lecture: "Buy the first volume of national language and literature, civics, arithmetic. Understand? All of you must have a set of white uniforms made, no wearing short mandarin jacket. Understand?" He said "understand" very slowly, his eyes slanting to one side; he felt this was very much like a mother's way of speaking, which would surely sink into the children's hearts. "Under--stand--?" Everyone stared blankly.
By the time they dawdled to half past ten, Tianci had received five or six slap on the necks, and he felt that school was not very interesting. He did not dare to resist, because the others all took it meekly; this was certainly not a matter for one person, and he dared not show any objection. Moreover, Eight-Edge Head told him, "Today is fine, except that the slap on the neck isn't as loud as last year's!" Tianci's imagination started to work again: a thunderous slap on the neck might actually be very interesting. When he saw his father coming to pick him up, he felt that school was even more interesting: there was so much to see that he could hardly report it all. At home he could only chat idly with Sihu, and everything he talked about was Sihu's experience. Now he had his own experience, which gave him a sense of dignity, even including the slap on the necks he had received.
"Dad, the others all buy bread to eat. Can I also buy some at noon? Dad, one kid wet his pants, but I didn't. Dad, don't wear short mandarin jacket anymore; the others all wear white--white--Dad, one kid knocked another's hat to the ground. Dad, the teacher's speech I didn't understand, and Eight-Edge Head didn't understand either; maybe he did understand. Dad, we lined up, and slap, he hit me on the back of the head. I didn't cry. Dad..."
Father could hardly keep up, just repeatedly saying, "Good!" "That's good!" Holding Tianci's hand, Tianci kept talking, watching his father's face, and before they knew it they were home.
As soon as he finished eating, he busied himself getting ready for school. He knew full well that there were many frightening people and things and slap on the necks at school, but there was also some attraction that made him both afraid and willing to go. He had to go see those new things and his little desk and chair. He had to buy a bread roll with his own hands! At home, there would never be such things.
After a week of classes, Tianci's possessions were quite considerable: a white uniform, foreign socks, a yellow satchel, a slate, slate pencils, a writing brush, pencils, a small copper ink box, five-color construction paper, an eraser... All bought from the school store, at prices twice as high as outside, and almost all were Japanese goods.
Old Niu had no objection to Japanese goods; he complained about the price. It wasn't that he cared about the money; he thought that schools should not be in business. If schools did all the business, what would merchants eat? Old Mrs. Niu had a different view: if schools didn't make money, what would the teachers eat? It was only right for a child to spend a bit more for the sake of education; that was the official style. Tianci didn't care about the adults' opinions; he very much liked having these things. What pleased him most was that every day he personally took copper coins to buy snacks, buying whatever he liked, almost with the same authority as his mother.
Among his classmates, he was not very popular. At home he had been used to playing alone, and with this group of children, sometimes he did not know what to do, and sometimes he thought his own way of playing was the only correct one, and everyone else was wrong. At times he had no ideas, at times he had too many ideas. When he had no ideas, they called him a good-for-nothing; when he had ideas, they refused to follow him. So often while playing, they would say, "Let's not play with Tianci!" He would put on the defiance he showed his mother: "I don't want to play with you either!" Then he would wring his hands and watch them play blankly, growing angrier the more he watched. Or he would find a quiet, empty place, and fold construction paper randomly, muttering to himself. Another reason they looked down on him was his slowness in running. Even during formal games, the teacher would yield to the others' request: "Our team doesn't want Tianci; he can't run!" When the two teams were formed and competed in passing the ball or relay, Tianci would stand aside. Sometimes he would protest: "I can run! I can run!" But as a result, he would try too hard and trip himself. Gradually he came to admit his weakness. Watching everyone-even the teacher!-applauding the winning heroes, he bit his thin lips tightly. He could not go home and tell Sihu this; Sihu always thought he was a hero, when in fact he couldn't even play games with others at school! He could only keep it to himself, standing alone at the foot of the wall, listening to the noise and bustle, with no part in it.
Sometimes, they deliberately took advantage of his weakness to tease him, such as snatching his hat or satchel: "Hey! Come and chase me! If you catch me, I'll give it back!" His legs would strain inwardly, but his body wouldn't move: "Keep it, I'll buy another!" They would put his things on the ground, and he had to go pick them up.
Therefore, he gradually came to love his mother a little. His mother's authoritarianism was based on reason, but these children were violent and completely unreasonable. Sometimes he was so angry that he had to debate with his mother: "Is it right to snatch someone's hat and throw it on the ground, Mom?" Of course his mother disapproved: "Only bad children do that!" He felt a little better, and gradually he learned to judge others using his mother's method: "This kid has no rules and discipline!" When he himself did something wrong, he was more casual about it. As a result, his tongue was sharp, and the more he muttered, the more words he could produce. He was very good at telling stories.
Because he told stories, he gained a few friends-all children who were not very active, some due to illness, some because they ate too much and couldn't move. They liked to play with him and listen to his ramblings. Because he was used to loneliness, he was good at creating comfort out of nothing, so he could split one story into two, or combine two into one, and they would listen with great delight. At such times, he regained his dignity and could fate them around, directing them: "Don't talk!" "You sit here!" "Let's first play the naming-fruits game, then I'll tell Huang Tianba." They had to play the naming-fruits game, otherwise he wouldn't tell the story. He felt he was a bit like his mother-everyone had to listen to him.
The teacher also did not like him much, because he had too many ideas of his own. For what he liked to hear, he listened very attentively and could retell it excellently, such as Sima Guang smashing the vat to save a child, Wen Yanbo fetching the ball by filling the hole with water, and The Dialogue of Two Frogs. For what he didn't like, he was completely careless; ask him anything and he knew nothing. When the teacher taught arithmetic, he drew little figures on his slate; he didn't like arithmetic. The teacher didn't like this kind of child; the teacher wished that students would always love to listen to him, no matter what he taught. The teacher didn't like children laughing loudly, except on the playground. Since Tianci couldn't participate in games, the more others laughed, the more wronged he felt, so sometimes he would laugh in the classroom, for instance when he suddenly remembered something funny. His laughter would cause everyone to titter-in the classroom, at most they could only titter, because the teacher never laughed loudly but only tittered-and then order would be disrupted, and Tianci would be punished to stand facing the wall for ten minutes. He grew to dislike the teacher's flat face more and more, and the teacher seemed to dislike his flat head more and more. If the teacher intentionally went against the child, he really got angry; sometimes he was so angry with Tianci that he couldn't eat. But Tianci didn't mean to anger the teacher; he thought the teacher should tell more stories, teach less arithmetic, and not have such a flat face.
This child had an opinion about everything; the more you went against him, the more stubborn he became. Only when he was made to stand as punishment did he have no opinion. Everyone else was seated, and he alone faced the wall; it wasn't very pleasant. At such a moment, he would become casual, "Whatever, I'll just stand for a while," and he would stick out his tongue at the corner.
This kind of school life made him more and more "tough." He did not receive kind treatment from others, so he also did not show much friendliness. He learned to lie, to take revenge at the right moment, to carelessly pretend to recite national language and literature while thinking of other things. He also learned to titter, using his tongue to push his cheek, and smiling with his eyes.
Only when he was with Sihu did he remain sincere. He would tell Sihu the stories from national language and literature, telling them vividly, with gestures: "Wait, I'll show you." In the middle of telling the story of smashing the vat to save the child, he ran off. Soon he returned, with a small brick in his pocket and a glass cup in his hand full of water. He put a piece of chalk into the water: "This is the child. Plop! He falls into the water. Shout, 'Help! Help!' - Hey, I hear it, I am Sima Guang. Coming, don't worry; watch!" He took out the brick, bang! The cup broke, and he rescued the chalk piece. "Get it?"