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Alas, kids today are so innocent and simple, she thought.

She pulled out another book, Tang Yuxin’s.

She vaguely remembered Tang Yuxin, a quiet girl from the countryside with good grades. As a teacher, she had a clearer memory of her bright students compared to the dull ones. For example, Tang Yuxin was a typical student – a great learner, good-natured, obedient, making her a preferred student among teachers.

Looking at the composition written by Yuxin, she was initially struck by how neat her handwriting was, as if she had practiced calligraphy, with a unique flavor to it. It would definitely be interesting if written in calligraphy.

But unfortunately, their school didn’t offer a calligraphy course, so she didn’t know if any of the students could really write using a brush pen.

My father.

Well, yet another same topic.

The teacher, having no other expectations, assumed it would be a typical composition like the others, with conventional word usage and a common subject matter. But as she read the first line, she found herself sitting up straight, intrigued.

“I think the only person who would grieve my departure from this world is father. People always say that a father’s love is as steady as a mountain. He used everything he had to give me a calm and peaceful sky. Some things, I don’t recall, but the only thing I remember is that the stoic, earnest man would always greet me with a warm, innocent smile. He could walk several hours just for my minor cold, or knee down and beg the doctor just because of a mild fever.”

I was brought up by my father, and my memory of mother is vague. I never knew what mother’s love was. People from the village kept telling Zhinian, my father, to abandon me because I’m a girl who can’t take care of him when he is old.

But father never thought of abandoning me, as I’m not an outsider, but his daughter. He can stay single just out of fear that I might be bullied or harmed.

Despite our poor living conditions, my father never deprived me of the everyday necessities. While most children in other families were having gruel or even leftovers from their parents, I was fed baby formula milk. My father would stay cold and hungry or sit in the chilling wind all day, trying to get a few more pennies from the vegetables he harvested, just enough for me to have milk for a meal.

Because of such a father, I am proud of my life.

Because of such a father, I am proud of my life.

Because of him being my father, I am lucky.

I have a father, a good father, who protected me from the storms and dangers when I was not yet ready to spread my wings and fly.

As for me, I want to be a doctor. When my father gets old, loses mobility, and starts to forget everything, I hope my hands can treat him just like how he took care of me in my childhood.

He raised me when I was little.

And I will care of him when he grows old.

I hope time slows down.

So that my father could age slower.

I wish time could stop.

Even if it meant I would stop growing up.

The teacher suddenly covered her mouth, tears involuntarily rolling down her cheek. Some things, like words and music, can easily pull on your heartstrings and touch your inner most vulnerable part.

Like now.

With these not so many words, the teacher was reduced to tears. Suddenly, she packed everything in her drawer, picked up her belongings and was ready to leave.

“Huh, where are you going, Teacher Sun?”

Another teacher looked up just in time to see Teacher Sun rushing out. School wasn’t over yet, why was she leaving?

“Taking leave to go home.”

Wiping her face, Teacher Sun replied, “Going back to see my father. It’s been months since I visited him last time. He must miss me. I should go back before it’s too late, before he ages.”

The other teacher tilted her head in disbelief, and then she touched her forehead. There was definitely something off with Teacher Sun today. And although she couldn’t quite point out what’s wrong, something didn’t feel right.

But after hearing what Teacher Sun said, she realized that she also needed to visit her parents.

It had been a long time since she went home. Ever since she came to school, she treated school as her home. But much as a school could be home, it had no parents.

Right, I should go home tonight and stop living on campus. It’s just a few more steps, and it’s good for a young person to exercise more to avoid becoming overweight.

When Teacher Sun came back to school, she seemed like a completely different person. She thought she will never forget those words she heard when she arrived home,

“Why are you taking out the chopsticks again?”

Am I not waiting for our daughter Miao to come home?”

“Why would she come home? She’s busy at school, and she’s in contention for an award this year. Tell me, how does winning an award compare with family? She has become a woman in her twenties already, and while others are getting married, she still doesn’t have anyone. You tell me, how can I not worry?”

“Women, always nagging,” Father Sun said after tapping the table. “Our Miao is an intellectual. Tell me which boy in our area is as accomplished as her. Now she is a teacher, once she gets that award, she can choose any man she wants. So, stop mentioning this in front of her, it could ruin her mood and prevent her from winning the award.”

“Alright, alright, I understand,” Mother Sun quickly took a bowl to serve rice, only then noticing that she had already taken out an extra bowl of rice.

“And now you say I am forgetful?” Father Sun glanced at her. “I just took out some chopsticks, you, on the other hand, have already served the rice.”

“Our Miao is going back soon,” Mother Sun gave Father Sun a return look, refusing to back down.

Alright, Father Sun gave up arguing. He didn’t want to reason with a woman. Women have no logic, that’s why people say a scholar can never win an argument with a soldier. And aren’t women even scarier than soldiers?

The front door squeaked open.