Chapter 002: A New Life, A New Face

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The next day, at the break of dawn, the sky had cleared. At the entrance of the village, an old hen clucked as she led a brood of chicks to hunt for earthworms in the rain-washed grass.

It was early spring. In the distance, the fields were ablaze with blooming rapeseed flowers; closer by, peach trees were budding red and pear trees white, lending an extraordinary beauty to the landscape.

“Where did my brother run off to so early in the morning?” Yang Xueling, her hair done up in a ponytail and wearing a little red padded jacket, stepped out of Yang Tian’s room clutching her second-grade language textbook. She scanned the village entrance but saw no sign of Yang Tian. She found it odd since he was usually such a late riser that she had to call him for breakfast. Why had he gotten up at first light today?

Though puzzled, she was still just a seven-year-old child—her suspicion soon faded, and she sat herself under the great willow at the village entrance to read her lessons aloud.

“Spring water, spring water, where are you going? I am flowing into the stream. Stream water, stream water, where are you going? I am flowing into the rivers…” Even as a child, Yang Xueling’s voice was sweet. Whenever she sat beneath the old willow to recite her lessons, passing villagers would smile with delight, convinced that this child was destined for greatness.

Meanwhile, Yang Tian was at the riverside far from home. Two miles east of Willow Tree Village ran a sandy river the locals called the “White Wave River.” Whenever the floods came, the water here surged white as the sea.

Yang Tian jogged along, holding his preschool textbook. The area was thick with reeds, making it easy for a nine-year-old to hide from the eyes of villagers—hardly anyone came here, as the place was rife with large grass snakes. For Yang Tian, this made it the perfect private spot to train and better himself.

Exercising was nothing to be ashamed of, but he had always been timid and lazy. If he suddenly started running and working out in plain sight at the village entrance, his parents, Yang Bao and Li Xiuying, would worry and probably drag him off to the village shaman to pray for good fortune. Better to keep his plans secret and spare them anxiety.

Yang Tian’s childhood body was exceptionally frail; half an hour of running left him breathless. But with the willpower of an adult now, he persisted with rigorous training. After all, what’s a little fatigue to a child? He could always eat a few extra bowls at breakfast.

“Xiao Tian, where did you run off to so early?” By the time the sun climbed high, Yang Tian was sprinting back. Reaching the village entrance, he saw Li Xiuying and Yang Bao returning with baskets of sweet potato vines.

Early spring was the season for planting sweet potatoes.

“I… I went over there to read!” Yang Tian lifted his textbook and answered brightly. He knew that reading would make his parents happier than knowing he was exercising.

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“Reading?! Why go so far to read? Why not stay here and read with your sister?” Li Xiuying was taken aback, but soon her face lit up with surprise. She glanced at Yang Bao, who was also smiling. At nine years old, this was the first time Yang Tian had ever voluntarily risen early to study. The young couple felt a sudden surge of pride.

“I like the quiet,” Yang Tian replied with a wide grin.

“Let him be, but you be careful. Don’t go near White Wave River—there are grass snakes there, understand?” Yang Bao, knowing Yang Tian was introverted, didn’t press further but repeated his warning. After all, the grass snakes there had a history of biting people to death.

“Brother, how come you’re eating so much today?” At breakfast, Yang Xueling laughed sweetly to see Yang Tian holding a boiled egg in one hand, a steamed bun in the other, and pausing now and then to sip white rice porridge from a blue-edged bowl.

“What’s wrong with your brother eating well? Xiao Tian, if you have a good appetite, eat more. I'll go get you another serving!” Li Xiuying first shot a smile at Yang Xueling, then turned to Yang Tian with concern.

Yang Tian’s mouth was stuffed with bun and pickles; he could only keep nodding in response.

“He’s already had two bowls of porridge, two eggs, and three big buns. Still wants more? Goodness, he’s eating as much as Dad!” Xueling giggled as she slowly nibbled her own egg, half in shock, half in delight.

Try getting up early for an hour’s jog, then sprinting for half an hour, then doing ten minutes of splits and twenty minutes of stretching—then see if you don’t eat as much, Yang Tian thought with an inward chuckle, though he kept his face simple and sincere.

“It means your brother’s about to grow into a man! Hehe, hurry up and eat, both of you. When you’re done, off to school!” Yang Bao ruffled Yang Tian’s hair, then added some pickled radish to his bowl.

“Three little chubbies, buttoning up their coats, Pillar helps Winter, Winter helps Zhen, helping each other out, all good children…” After breakfast, Yang Tian and Yang Xueling set off for school with the other village children, singing nursery rhymes they’d learned in class. Yang Tian walked silently at the rear of the group, his face full of smiles.

No one wanted to walk with him, perhaps because he was quiet and withdrawn—or maybe because, at nine, he was still in preschool.

Red Star Primary School served Willow Tree Village and the nearby Hongzhuang and Kiln Factory Village. The school was small, but packed with students.

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Standing at the school gate, Yang Tian gazed at the once-familiar red bricks, black tiles, the camphor trees in the yard, the battered flagpole, and the makeshift ping-pong table cobbled together from bricks and slabs below it.

A wave of emotion surged in his heart. He wanted to shout, My childhood—I’ve returned!

At the sound of the bell, the chattering children outside the classrooms dashed into their rooms. Yang Tian hoisted his little yellow canvas satchel and hurried into the preschool classroom. This place was full of memories from his own elementary school days; naturally, he found his classroom and his seat without the slightest hesitation.

It was a brick-tile room, unlike the formal classrooms, which had whitewashed walls, cement floors, green-painted baseboards, and rows of pine desks and chairs.

The preschool classroom was just a plain brick building. The red bricks were exposed, the floor was smooth dirt, and the desks were castoffs from the formal classrooms, while each student brought their own chair from home.

“Good morning, Teacher!” No sooner had Yang Tian sat down than an old man with reading glasses entered, a textbook in his left hand and a willow switch in his right. The students rose in unison and greeted him loudly.

“Good morning, class! Please sit,” said the old man, his tone carrying a whiff of the old-fashioned private-school teacher.

His name was Wang Xianqiang. Once a sent-down youth, later recommended by the production brigade to serve as a contract teacher, he had since become a full official and was now the director of academics at Red Star Elementary—but he still taught preschool math.

Yang Tian had spent three years in preschool before his rebirth, and for three years he’d felt the sting of Wang’s willow switch. By his reckoning, this must be his second year.

“I assigned homework yesterday. I wonder if you all finished it? Now, I'll call two students to the blackboard for dictation. Each of you will calculate five sets of basic addition and subtraction. Four correct answers count as passing. Miss one, and you get one stroke of the switch!” This was Wang Xianqiang’s usual style, and at his words, the class instantly fell silent.