My name is Lin Xiaofan, 23 years old this year. I've just graduated from university. Like many university graduates, I couldn't find a job and had to come back to my hometown with my tail between my legs.
My hometown is in Luoyang. It's a small village called Shilipu in the countryside of Luoyang.
I came back because the only teacher in the village primary school had contracted tuberculosis, and the illness had become very serious. As the only university graduate from the village, the village head was willing to pay me a hefty sum of one thousand yuan a month to substitute teach.
So, I came back.
I, who had lived a life worse than a dog outside, gained great respect in my hometown.
In a remote mountain village, a university student is quite a remarkable existence. Every time the villagers saw my father, they would give him a thumbs-up and say, "The old Lin family's ancestral grave has produced a university student. You've stepped out of the mountains."
At those times, my father would always smile and wipe the sweat from his face.
Of course, along with this great honor, I also faced the most embarrassing problem for a 23-year-old rural young man - the active matchmaking efforts of the matchmakers.
To ease their concerns, I went along with the blind dates.
In fact, university is simply a place of distinction and reason. Although I came from a mountain village, my looks weren't bad, in fact, you could say they were handsome. I even had a girlfriend. I was poor, and she wasn't very wealthy either, but despite that, we were together for three years. I did my best to take odd jobs, to be the boyfriend I should be. We broke up in my junior year.
That day, I drank a 2 yuan bottle of erguotou at the back of our school. After I woke up, I was no longer sad and just continued going through the motions.
In terms of looks, I inherited from my mother.
A beautiful woman who didn't know where her hometown was.
She had dementia.
Decades ago, my father went to the city and bought her for three hundred dollars.
My father said that he spent two yuan to buy her a set of clothes that day, and when he returned, her beauty made everyone in the village drool.
Unfortunately, she was a simpleton.
If she wasn’t, my father wouldn't have been able to afford her.
After I was born, my mother's dementia remained the same, but her foolishness wasn't like that of a madman on the street, she was very quiet.
She didn't speak, didn't move. Just sat quietly.
I grew up in such an environment, but I don't want to be too artistic. I have a reclusive personality, but even so, I had a complete childhood.
My father was very hardworking. He pushed the limits of a farmer, using his farming tools to support our family. There's really nothing I can blame him for.
No money, such is life.
My grandfather was a retired old soldier. Illiterate, not the typical shrewd farmer, but terrifyingly honest. Some say he was Kuomintang, some say he was Communist, but even he didn't know which party he belonged to. The only thing he knew was that he used a gun to drive away the Japanese devils, and after they were gone, he returned home.
My grandmother was a traditional old lady from the rural area. Nagging, sharp-tongued, she enjoyed gossiping with a group of old ladies about other people's business.
This was my family, an extremely ordinary family.
Because I came back to teach, my family gained great respect in the village. The village head, a well-traveled man, told people, "Nowadays, a university graduate earns a monthly salary of five to six thousand. Xiaofan's return is out of respect for the ancestors and origins!"
My job at the school was also extremely simple. I had 43 students in a classroom where it rained outside and drizzled inside.
I believe my students will be very capable in the future.
When someone says he's bad at Chinese, he can argue that it's the P.E. teacher who taught it.
When someone says he's bad at math, he can argue that it's the P.E. teacher who taught it.
When someone says he's bad at P.E., he can argue that it's the math teacher who taught it.
Because no matter the subject, there's only me as the teacher.
At least, I'm the public servant of the village.
Away from the hustle and bustle of the city. In this peaceful mountain village, I found great satisfaction, unrelated to material things.
It was on that day when I was grading papers in my relatively good office, that the children knocked on my door, telling me someone was looking for me.
Because this small mountain village is not big, even the children can remember everyone's names. I asked, "Who is looking for me?"
"I don't know, but he looks a lot like your dad," a little boy said.
I was confused and put down my pen, walking out of the office. A few steps away, I saw a man with a black bag. When I saw him, I was really taken aback.
This person really did look like what the children had described - so much like my dad, not just resembling him, but almost identical.
"Who are you?" I asked this fashionable man carrying a black bag.
"I came to find Mr. Lin, he is my father," the man said.
In an instant, my mind went blank.
Mr. Lin was my grandfather's name.
Honestly, at that moment, I was a bit at a loss. After my grandfather returned from the war, he never left this hill. It was also after his return that he married my grandmother.
He couldn't even recognize a single large character. A toothless old man with a mouth full of yellow teeth. If the common term "illegitimate child" were applied to him, it would be a contradiction.
Moreover, who in the entire village does not know that my grandfather was a lifetime under the thumb of his wife?
Yet the fact is, this person, who looks almost exactly like my father, has now come to the door.
Just from that face alone, I had to believe what he said.
I let the students out early, locked the door, and didn't speak much to this person. I brought him home with me. I had a mischievous attitude, not knowing how my grandmother would react when she saw this person, and how my speech-impaired grandfather would handle it.
Along the way, this person almost caused a commotion, just because his face was so similar to my father's.
On the way home, we ran into my father. When he saw this person, he turned pale and even dropped the manure he was carrying.
Father, ignoring the stench, pointed at the man's face, trembling as he asked me, "Xiaofan! Who is this?"
Before I could respond, the man reached out to my father and said, "I am Mr. Lin's son. I know you, I should call you brother."
My father was so frightened he couldn't say a word, and ran back home as if his pants were on fire.
He couldn't accept this fact either.
As the village itself was not large, we quickly returned home and, at the front door, saw my grandmother gripping my grandfather's ear. People toil in the mountains, and my grandmother's skin was already darkened by the wind and sun. At this moment, her angry face resembled that of a fierce deity.
"Who is this! You must explain today!" she shouted at the man behind me.
My normally twisted with pain grandfather's face turned into an incredible expression when he saw the man behind me.
"Who are you?!" he also shouted at him.
"Old man, stop pretending!" my grandmother burst into tears, kicking my grandfather in the butt. My father stood by, grinning.
"I really don't know him! I swear to never see him again, cross my heart!" my grandfather vowed.
"If he's not your seed, how could he look so much like my child?" my grandmother roared.
At this point, the villagers crowded around, sensing excitement. While I also wanted to see, this was family business and it shouldn't be broadcasted.
I stepped forward and pulled my grandmother aside, saying, "Family matters should not be aired in public, let's talk at home."
"No, not going back! Grandson, if your grandfather has done something so shameless, do I still have any face? If he doesn't spill the beans today, I won't let him off!" My grandmother insisted.
At this moment, my father also walked over. The two of us finally managed to pull my grandmother back into the house.
Inside the house, my grandmother sat on the edge of the bed, fuming, while my grandfather squatted on the ground, puffing on his pipe. I poured a cup of tea for the visitor. Wild chrysanthemum, cooling and detoxifying.
"Who are you really, and why do I not recognize you?" my grandfather looked at the visitor, feeling wronged.
"Stop pretending!" my grandmother took off her shoe and threw it at him.
Watching my grandfather's wronged expression, I suddenly felt that something was amiss. My grandfather was an honest man.
He couldn't act.
Absolutely not, even when it comes to the matter of deceiving his wife, an act that could instantly turn a man into a master of lies, I couldn't see through his deception.
His actions and expressions were so natural that if he were pretending, I believe he could win an Oscar for Best Actor.
"I really don't recognize him!" my grandfather, who had just been hit with a shoe, was close to tears.