Chapter 20: I Must Leave You

Unexpectedly, Shi Linyan was even more delighted. “Really? I actually majored in Russian, and only switched to English in my sophomore year!”

Indeed, Russian had once been the mainstream foreign language nationwide; it was said there was a surplus of Russian speakers. Even in remote mountain villages, you could find people who spoke fluent Russian, but had no use for it. Only before the 1980s did the authorities forcibly revise the educational curriculum, shifting the primary focus to English. The proportions shifted from 80/20, to 50/50, then 20/80, and even 10/90, and up to the late 1980s, some middle schools still offered Russian classes.

In truth, most teachers were just pushed into the role, cramming a hybrid of English and Russian to get by in exams. The details of this old woman’s work left Wei Dong at a loss. “You speak Russian? Are there any textbooks, cassette tapes—?”

Damn, tape players were still a luxury then. A whole school might have only one or two, reserved as teaching aids. Yu Qili and his trading company had two portable models, so Wei Dong was used to it.

Shi Linyan, entirely unaware, let herself be guided outside, but still poked her head back to bid her mother goodnight. “I’ll come see you again tomorrow.”

She was so agile and slender, she never got caught in the doorway. Then she spun around, gesticulating enthusiastically to express her love for Russian, saying she’d studied it from junior high through university entrance exams, only to switch abruptly to English. “I can teach you! I did really well in Russian!”

Are you basking in the glow of your sunset years? Wei Dong couldn’t help but use the tone reserved for humoring old ladies. “Alright, alright, fine. Here, be careful—there’s a pile of bricks here. That night, the villain hid right here. Dong Xiao, our comrade, was just passing by and got attacked. If it had been you instead, shouldn’t you be more concerned about safety?”

Shi Linyan, sheltered all her life, recoiled with a squeal at the sight of the dark alley, pinching her nose, and hopped away. “Thank you for your bravery and care. So, I hope to show my sincerest gratitude by teaching you Russian.”

Wei Dong had already spotted his father sitting in the makeshift mailroom, and his heart ached for him. “For us country folks, just having a steady government job is more than enough thanks. Take care… Dad, um, that, that…”

He gestured, and Lao Rang hurriedly produced a pack of Red Pagoda Mountain cigarettes from the cloth bag behind his chair, handing it over with both hands, tongue-tied. “Thank you, thank you…”

Shi Linyan, startled as if she’d touched a hot stove, shook her head and hands vigorously, hopping away. “No, no, that’s not necessary!”

Wei Dong snickered in the darkness behind, thinking, “You fancy ladies have no idea about the hardships of us at the bottom.”

Only after the half a slab of pork disappeared did he nudge his father. “Go rest; I’ll take the night shift.”

But his father cherished the job that his son had risked his life to secure. “No way! You’re exhausted from running around. I can do it!”

Wei Dong grinned, lowering his voice for his father’s ear only. “I made over five thousand on this trip to Jiangsu and Zhejiang. With the previous seven thousand, we’re ten-thousandaires now. You’d better go home and guard the money.”

Startled, his father hurried home to keep watch over their fortune, uncertain if he could even sleep, despite being barely in his forties.

Wei Dong just hoped his parents could soon live a better life. The scene before him only spurred him to work harder.

He moved deftly, unscrewing a lightbulb from the old warehouse next door, smashing it at the entrance to scatter the shards in a line. He glanced at the sand sprinkled before the other decrepit storeroom—no footprints. Clearly, no one had visited these forgotten corners in years; it was child’s play to stash goods here.

Finally, he folded his arms and leaned against the door, dozing off.

Hardly anyone came by at night, but the crunch of glass underfoot would alert him. If only he had a few tin cans, it would be perfect. Old security guards could wake on reflex; a former soldier colleague had taught him such tricks—essential for slacking off on the job.

In the morning, he’d sweep the glass back into the corner’s mess, then reuse it that night.

But as usual, he headed to the docks early to haul cargo and missed Teacher Shi squatting curiously at the door, poking at the glass with a stick as if prodding something unpleasant, her face the very picture of bafflement. Lao Rang, taking over the shift, grew anxious, fearing their shortcut had been discovered.

Wei Dong, meanwhile, enjoyed the morning workout hauling heavy loads, ate breakfast, apprenticed as a driver and mechanic, treated his master to a good lunch, and only in the afternoon bought meat and groceries for his mother to cook. Life rolled on comfortably into December.

He was just waiting for the New Year to slaughter the pig and smoke even more bacon. The following year, he’d make serious money; the policies ought to loosen further. His mid-to-long-term plan was to sell titanium by the ton to Jiangsu and Zhejiang.

With tens of thousands in hand, he could buy property early, securing a private nest egg. When the big shot was released, he’d see about using it to barter for a plane.

The only imperfection was that Shi Linyan really did show up every day for lessons. She’d appear at the door in the morning, urging him to start Russian pronunciation and memorize vocabulary, and would check again in the evening!

Damn, he’d been hounded by teachers in high school, and now, after making his fortune, this old lady was chasing after him to study.

Driven to desperation, after a few days he swapped night shifts with his father and stopped keeping watch.

Shi Linyan then took to marching over from her home just outside the compound every morning to rouse him: “The day’s plan is made in the morning! Make use of your clear mind after good sleep—study now!”

Wei Dong knew that, later, Shi Linyan would push her own child into a prestigious university—now she was pushing him? It was endless!

And the most absurd part was that, with the six-day workweek, even on Sundays she didn’t go to the library or youth center, but kept an eye on his studies. Eventually, she brought books and snacks, and they had lessons in the city parks!

It wasn’t until he was sitting in the park that Wei Dong realized something felt off about this atmosphere.

In all fairness, he was earnestly studying Russian. He had a clear goal—hoping it would help when the time came to trade for a plane; he was eager to see the world. Following the big shot had its perks—the titanium business was proof.

He’d copied down thousands of addresses, and now, by training his body and learning to drive, he was preparing for future opportunities.

Mastering Russian would be fantastic—kruda!

But Shi Linyan insisted that the “kr” sound must have a guttural trill. Wei Dong listened twice to the pretty girl’s tape recorder and suddenly realized, “You mean I have to hawk up a wad of phlegm?”

His imitation was spot-on.

Shi Linyan nearly collapsed with laughter. “You’re disgusting—but not bad, not bad! Again! See if you can cough up another!”

She laughed even more heartily than Wei Dong, nothing like a proper teacher.

Wei Dong felt it all resembled a TV drama.

Thinking of the university graduates assigned to the tax bureau later on, he mused, “Is it because working life isn’t like you imagined at university that you feel so relaxed showing off to me, a country bumpkin?”

Every day, if it wasn’t Russian, it was her chattering on about school troubles—colleagues’ strange looks, students sneaking around, old-timers shirking their duties, leaders dodging responsibility, no reforms or progress—everything was unsatisfactory.

Shi Linyan, surprised, pondered. “Maybe you’re right. You have a solid high school foundation, you study earnestly, and it’s a joy to teach you. You have no idea how my students suffer in class. Let me tell you…”

And she would start chirping away again.

“Stop always blaming others,” Wei Dong cut her off, having seen it all before. “When you first start working, you have to adapt. Nothing goes smoothly. Enough already. I’m already on track and can study on my own. Go do your own thing. People in the compound are starting to gossip.”

He was a nineteen-year-old young man; under the moonlight, he could snap to attention for Er Feng, and had even dreamed of Miss Dong several times. Yet, for Shi Linyan—the prettiest, most stylish of them all—he felt nothing.

After all, in his past life, he’d spent forty years sacrificing himself for her, ending up disabled.

His feelings were tangled and complicated.

Perhaps he felt everything for her—except love between a man and a woman.

His father had always been content to watch her from afar, just as he now returned to the tax bureau and immediately sought her out.

So, after the butcher incident, he chose to see the world.

He knew he had to start a new life.

In this life, they were utterly unconnected.

Shi Linyan widened her eyes and blinked hard. “Comrade Wei Dong, learning Russian is a serious matter. You’ve only studied for a month—your foundation isn’t even laid. Don’t let yourself get arrogant and complacent!”

He didn’t understand her concealed emotions, responding with straightforward honesty. “You’re a city college graduate; I’m just a porter from the countryside. If you want to thank me, teaching me the basics of Russian is enough. Others will laugh at us. Besides, even porters and mechanics need their Sundays off. Unlike you, with your comfortable life and nothing to do, we need our rest. That’s enough for today—no more lessons after this.”

He got up, casually gathered his books, and left.

The pretty teacher scrambled after him, fussing over her tea mug, tangerines, sunflower seeds, and candy like a mother hen. “Wait for me!”

Fortunately, everyone now carried woven plastic shopping bags with hard shells; she swept everything off the stone park table, packed it away, and hurried after him, making faces at his back as she went.

No one had ever treated Shi Linyan so casually before, yet it wasn’t rude or abrupt—there was an indescribable blend of indulgence and dismissiveness, a kind of half-relation that only existed between people who weren’t quite close.

Fresh from university, she felt an inexplicable sense of intimacy. “Let’s take a photo together. There’s a photographer at the park entrance.”

Wei Dong was already considering dragging his father back to the countryside—they were already ten-thousandaires, after all. Why should his father keep working?

But his parents had an unexplainable love for their government jobs. With good food every day, they were happier than ever. When he urged them to visit his grandparents on weekends, his father always claimed he had to work overtime.

They really had spent months or even half a year working away from home before, so frequent visits weren’t a habit.

Growing impatient, he grumbled, “Take a picture? Nonsense! We country folks believe cameras steal your soul!”

She bent over, laughing so hard she couldn’t straighten up. “I saw your photos with friends—your mother showed me. You were even sitting on someone’s shoulders! I want a picture like that too!”

Wei Dong was dumbfounded. Were his childhood friends, grandparents, and parents all rebels?

They were always contradicting him!

This wouldn’t do.