Chapter 43: Report from the July 21st Workers' University
Early the next morning, it started snowing outside.
Zhong Siqi was lying on his back, hanging upside down on the edge of the bed, drooling, dreaming sweet dreams, and laughing like a fool from time to time.
Mother Zhong took a twisted towel and swung it hard on his face several times, causing the flesh on Zhong Siqi's face to tremble, and she managed to wake him up.
"Mom, what are you doing?" Zhong Siqi was so sleepy that she couldn't open her eyes. Her hair was a mess. She threw the quilt over her head. "I don't have any classes, and you woke me up."
Mrs. Zhong opened the curtains to let the sunlight in.
"What time did you say it was? It's eight o'clock."
Seeing that Zhong Siqi didn't respond and lay on the bed like a dead pig, Zhong's mother swung the towel towards the arched quilt vigorously, shaking it with great force.
"Hurry up and eat. Take Wanwan with you. I'm going out to buy groceries later."
Zhong Siqi frowned: "Don't you still have a sister?"
Zhong's mother rudely pulled back his blanket and said, "Your sister and your father left long ago to report to the July 21st Workers' University."
Zhong Siqi was almost blinded by the direct sunlight. He covered his eyes with his hands for a while, and then he was able to adapt to it. He then hummed a few times in response.
The next second, he opened his puzzled eyes and sat up.
Wait a minute.
I'm going to report to the July 21st Workers' University?
"Mom, are you right?" Zhong Siqi asked.
If he didn't hear it wrong, then his mother must have said it wrong.
"How could this be fake?" Zhong's mother glanced at him and shook the coat he had covered with the quilt to shake off the dust. "Alright, get up quickly. The food is getting cold."
Zhong Siqi still looked confused.
He scratched his head, unable to understand why, in just one short evening, after only having a meal and a few drinks, he seemed to have missed some important event.
It was not until he sat down at the dinner table and saw Mrs. Zhong's nonchalant expression that he tentatively spoke out, half-believing and half-doubting: "Mom, is my sister going back to school? Is that true?"
"Your sister and the others left at 7:30. Do I need to explain to you?" Mother Zhong drank her porridge and took a bite of the scallion egg pancake without raising her head.
Zhong Siqi was so shocked that he couldn't close his mouth, and finally accepted the information.
He picked up the bowl and drank the porridge. "Sis, your grades were so good back then. You should have continued studying long ago. I was upset the last time I saw the Xu family's mother-in-law showing off. It was like her son was the only graduate student in Suzhou. His grades back then weren't even half as good as my sister's. What's there to be proud of?"
"That's good."
Zhong Siqi spoke excitedly, his eyebrows beaming with joy. He put one foot on a stool and drew several lines in the air with chopsticks in one hand, as if he was killing everyone in the area from a distance, leaving no one alive.
"My sister is also going to be a graduate student. When I see the Xu family's expressions, especially Zhou Ping and Xu Shaojun, it will be really interesting!"
He was thinking hard over there, and he imagined himself in a wonderful way. He pounded the table and laughed out loud.
Mrs. Zhong ate the food with a look that looked like an idiot.
On the other side, a father and daughter, who had left home early and had not eaten a single bite of breakfast, were on their way to the 721 Workers' University.
The winter in Suzhou is not as dry and cold as that in the north. When the wind blows, it feels like a knife is going to drill into people's brains and ears. It is a pervasive damp cold.
The gray and mottled walls are covered with moss, and the gravel road is winding.
At daybreak, hardworking women were beating clothes with laundry mallets on the bluestone slabs under the bridge, and faded blue-gray uniforms, maroon linings, and quilt covers with colorful flowers were hung on bamboo poles.
Following the soapberry foam of the river, going up, the streets and alleys are not only crowded with pedestrians in an endless stream, but also with snack vendors shouting their wares.
Those who sell crabapple cakes mix the red bean paste filling evenly, sprinkle it with red and green silk, melon seeds, sesame seeds, and white sugar, cover it and bake it. They also make red bean porridge with some osmanthus foam, and pan-fried buns with meat filling and soup.
There is also an elderly couple selling bubble wontons. They use chopsticks to dip a little minced meat into the skin, and then put it into the pot. The wontons will expand like small bubbles, and they are fresh, fragrant and refreshing.
Zhong Qiao was wearing a red scarf and plush earmuffs, wrapped up like a ball, with only two eyes that were seven parts black and three parts white showing. She sat on the back of a bicycle, bouncing back and forth, carefully holding onto the clothes behind her father.
This is a crowded place. In order to avoid pedestrians, Mr. Zhong rides his bike slowly. When he goes up a slope, the speed of his bike goes even slower.
Zhong Qiao saw the sweat on his forehead, gently tugged at his father's clothes, and whispered, "Dad, how about I come down and push it."
"No need." Mr. Zhong gritted his teeth and pedaled with all his might until the wheels smoked, but the bicycle only climbed up slowly. "It's just a small slope, you don't need to get off."
"I, your father, am not old yet!"
Zhong Qiao: ...
A minute later, the father and daughter were walking side by side.
Mr. Zhong pushed the cart and coughed awkwardly a few times, "I forgot to change the chain on this wheel yesterday, so it's slipping. For safety's sake, it's better to get off and walk a few steps."
Zhong Qiao glanced at him and had nothing to say.
I pushed my bicycle across the bridge. There was a constant stream of pedestrians at the intersection, bicycle bells jingled, and occasionally a large Jiefang truck passed by.
Zhong Qiao's stomach growled.
Hearing the noise, Mr. Zhong suddenly stopped, and Zhong Qiao also stopped and turned to look at him.
The father and daughter stared at each other.
"Are you hungry?" Mr. Zhong smiled.
Zhong Qiao nodded.
"Let's go have a bowl of noodles with toppings first." Father Zhong brushed the snow off Zhong Qiao's shoulders. "Dad is hungry too."
The camera turned and the two of them arrived at a small noodle shop.
The noodle shop is owned by a young couple, one of them is in charge of the shop and the other is in charge of cleaning up. Business is very good. Even though it is snowing outside, there is a constant stream of customers. They are so busy that they are dizzy and their faces are covered with sweat, but they smile heartily.
"Please come in and sit down. What would you like to eat?" the woman greeted them and cleaned up the place.
Zhong Qiao took a look at the hanging wooden sign. It listed fried rice, wontons, rice with toppings, and everything else, but their main dish was still the noodles with special toppings.
"Two bowls of pork chop noodles with red soup." Zhong Qiao said.
The woman quickly agreed and turned to drive the little boy away: "Yangyang, don't get in the way here, go inside and write."
The little boy named Yangyang refused: "No, I'll write here." He dragged a bench away and slipped aside. His open-crotch pants were covered with dust. He knelt down and began to write furiously.
The woman smiled at them and said, "I'm sorry, my son is just a little naughty. I hope I didn't bother you."
Zhong Qiao smiled and shook his head: "It's okay, this child is quite smart."
The woman held her forehead and smiled bitterly: "Hey, I have to teach him several times how to equal 1+1. He's not smart at all."
"Just wait, the noodles will be ready soon." She sighed and turned away.
"Okay." Zhong Qiao replied.
Noodles with toppings are a local specialty of Suzhou, available in red soup and white soup.
Zhong Qiao likes to eat red soup, but she doesn't know what Zhong's father likes. However, when she saw Zhong's father's confused expression before, she could guess that Zhong's father probably had never eaten the noodles with toppings here, so she made the decision for him.
They sat down facing each other.
Zhong Qiao looked around and saw the little boy hunched over the bench, writing furiously, his little head almost buried in the textbook.
This scene moved Mr. Zhong deeply.
He was moved and nodded in praise: "This child is really good, he will become a great man in the future."
Zhong Qiao also liked this clever little guy and asked, "Little comrade, what are you writing?"
The little boy looked around as if an alarm bell had been rung, and quickly took out the wrinkled textbook hidden under his clothes. With a serious expression, he made a "hush" gesture to Zhong Qiao.
"I'm learning. Don't be so loud. Don't let my mom know."
Zhong Qiao was stunned. She didn't understand what he meant at first, but the next moment she saw the name written on the textbook that he was covering with his hands - Chen Xiaolong.
Reference.
Well, it is indeed a reference.
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