Chapter 6: Linghu Chong II 7

  The cool breeze was blowing gently, the night was dark, and Zhu Cong and Linghu Chong were strolling along the shaded path. Couples of young men and women walked by hand in hand, and Linghu Chong couldn't help but think that he now had a bit of a perverted suspicion. However, he didn't dare to say it to Zhu Cong.

  "Actually," Zhu Cong scratched his head, "actually..."

  Zhu Cong thought he should comfort Leng Qiu, after all, this little class leader had always been very cooperative with him. However, Zhu Cong didn't know what to say, and he couldn't be like Qiao Feng who could say "your classmates are just a bunch of bastards, the more you give them face, the thicker their skin gets". All Zhu Cong could say was that classmates should understand each other. Unfortunately, Zhu Cong didn't want to say these things, after listening to Leng Qiu's complaints, he felt that there were indeed several people in the class who deserved a beating. In his university days, class management was strict, and if the class leader said something, no one dared to make any unnecessary comments.

  What I want to say can't be said, what can be said is not what I want to say.

  "It's all small stuff," Zhu Cong finally managed to squeeze out a sentence, "what's past is past. Don't take it too seriously, we're still classmates after all. I once knocked out a classmate's tooth in college, and now we get along just fine."

  "Huh?" Linghu Cong's interest was piqued, "You were still so fierce back then?"

  Zhu Cong suddenly realized he had misspoken, and quickly made a joke of it: "Actually, it wasn't a big deal. At that time, everyone was poor, and we would fight over meal tickets. Thinking about it now is laughable."

  "Hmph." Linghu Cong was taken aback for a moment before suddenly bursting out laughing.

  Linghu Cong originally wanted to say: "It seems that we are indeed your students." However, he easily restrained himself and said: "Who did you hit? Quan Jinfa or Quan Jinfu?"

  "Guessing blindly," Zhu Cong said, "it's Han Baoju. He didn't stay in school, you don't know that."

  "Is that Han Baoju?" Linghu Cong exclaimed, "The one from the Great Song Dynasty's Horse Breeding Association? Has our school ever produced such a talent?"

  "What a big shot," Zhu Cong chuckled, "a former classmate who used to sleep on the upper bunk above me."

  "I heard he donated the ancient book 'Nine Yin Manual' to our school library as a good deed, right? It's said to be worth tens of millions, but anyway I couldn't understand it. You're not doing as well as others now." Linghu Chong and Zhu Cong often spoke like this, gradually becoming more and more unbridled.

  The last sentence of Linghu Cong made Zhu Cong depressed. At first, no matter how you looked at it, he was more like a hero than Han Baoju, but now he has fallen to this point, with a bit of the flavor of a heroic end. He didn't come to visit his students tonight on a whim, but because he had a fight with his wife. His wife complained about the poor condition of their house, with cracks in the ceiling, while expressing her indignation at Sun Bu'er's heavenly killing, and finally strongly condemned Zhu Cong for lacking ambition. Helplessly, Zhu Cong indeed felt wronged by his wife, so he could only run out to let his wife calm down alone. As a result, he didn't want to go to that office near the toilet, and was also afraid to go home and face his wife's expression, so the best choice was to come and visit his students.

  Zhu Cong felt that he and the wandering Lin Hu Chung outside were a bit alike, the more he thought about it, the more he had a sense of sympathetic sorrow. Zhu Cong's mind wandered, his hand reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one himself, and unconsciously offered one to Lin Hu Chung: "Smoke?"

  "Ah," Linghu Chong really took one, "Teacher Zhu, you... I'm being too presumptuous."

  Linghu Cong took the cigarette in his hand, just looked at what brand it was, when Zhu Cong suddenly reacted: "What's this? It's all messed up! Students can't smoke, put it back, put it back. The instructor is teaching students to smoke."

  "Don't you smoke either?"

  "When you're young, don't smoke, smoking is bad, smoking is bad..."

  "You're going to take this?" Linghu Chong put the cigarette back in the case, his tone somewhat disdainful.

  Linghu Cong and Qiao Feng often walked close together, occasionally smoking. However, he never bought any, the cigarettes he smoked were all begged from Qiao Feng, who was a relatively wealthy master, most of the time smoking good cigarettes. In comparison, Zhu Cong's cigarettes could only be offered to tricycle-riding uncles, really losing the demeanor of a university lecturer.

  "Isn't it all just nonsense?" Zhu Cong stuttered.

  Linghu Cong suddenly felt a subtle change in the atmosphere, looked at Zhu Cong's expression, and said nothing. The master and apprentice wandered aimlessly among the passing men and women, the dim streetlights passing over their heads one by one, and time slowly passed.

  "It's so late and you're still smoking," Zhu Cong glanced at his watch, "go back and wash up for bed early, don't you guys have class tomorrow?"

  "It's really getting late, I reckon the gate will be closed soon," said Linghu Chong.

  Then the master and apprentice turned around and floated back on their way.

  Originally eloquent Zhu Cong spent a lot of effort organizing his words, preparing to advise Linghu Chong that the work in the class was more important and that classmates should unite. But in the end, Zhu Cong felt that saying it out loud would be too bland, so he took a deep breath, threw away his cigarette butt: "You're young, you take some things too seriously."

  "I'm not losing face, I am..."

  Zhu Cong waved his hand to interrupt Linghu Chong: "The small troubles you're having now are nothing compared to what's coming later. If he can live for another 20 years, he'll laugh at himself for being so worked up over a bad exam score. Honestly, don't worry about one or two bad grades, and don't sweat the small stuff with your classmates. If the master gives you less food, just use a bigger bowl next time. When you're young, you should live life to the fullest, don't listen to those people outside who are always talking about their emotional scars. You'll have plenty of chances to get hurt when you're older, so don't make yourself out to be some kind of tragic hero, thinking that the Party and government owe you 2 million... got it?"

  Linghu Cong was stunned for a moment, then nodded: "What you said is right."

  As he was about to leave, Linghu Cong felt around in his own pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes to give to Zhu Cong.

  Zhu Cong was taken aback and looked up at Linghu Chong: "You also smoke?"

  "A friend gave it to me," said Linghu Chong. "I don't usually smoke. You can take it and smoke it if you like."

  Zhu Cong glanced at the cigarette pack under the dim light of the corridor and knew it was a good brand, one that cost as much as his usual cigarettes. Zhu's face turned slightly red, fortunately, no one could see it since he was standing with his back to the light.

  Zhu Cong tidied up his disheveled hair: "Take it back, take it back! Is there a student who gives cigarettes to the instructor?"

  Linghu Cong also felt a bit awkward and smiled wryly: "Anyway, smoking is not allowed in the dormitory, so this can be considered as helping the floor leader to discipline you once."

  Zhu Cong finally lit one, took a drag, and for an instant the red glow illuminated Zhu Cong's no longer young face. Zhu Cong said: "Smoking is bad, don't burn the mosquito net in summer."

  Linghu Cong stood at the entrance of the building for a while, watching Zhu Cong walk away with a pair of plastic slippers. He turned a corner and his thin figure disappeared around the wall. He thought that Zhu Cong still had to walk very far to get home, as Zhu Cong's home was very far from school, and the cheaper houses were even farther away.

  Linghu Cong lowered his head and looked at the package of good cigarettes in his hand, which was thrown to him by Qiao Feng. He let out a slight sigh, put away the cigarettes, and quietly climbed through the window into the building.