121: Ferrying the Heart

The last class on Friday afternoon,

the air was always filled with restless energy.

The sky outside the window was somewhat gloomy, and the old teaching building seemed to be covered by a giant, suffocating pot.

Inside the classroom of grade 11, class 3,

textbooks were piled up like trenches, and everyone was hiding behind them,

waiting for the inevitable judgment to descend,

the pre-final exam motivational speech.

According to tradition, the likely procedure for this class meeting was:

Shen Qingqiu would come in holding the grade report, her face livid,

first harshly criticizing the discipline during morning reading, then singling out a few students with low rankings for "public execution,"

and finally concluding with the phrase, "You are the worst class I have ever taught,"

while also assigning tons of weekend test papers.

"Click."

The front door opened.

Shen Qingqiu walked in.

Unexpectedly, she was not holding the terrifying blue folder.

Her expression today was not as cold and severe as usual,

but instead carried a certain... indescribable weariness and calmness.

The whispering in the classroom was instantly cut off,

dozens of eyes were staring straight at the podium.

Shen Qingqiu said nothing, picked up a piece of chalk, and turned to write two large characters on the blackboard.

[The Ferry].

Chalk dust fluttered down. She clapped her hands and turned around.

"This week, everyone has been discussing two books."

Shen Qingqiu paused, glancing over the 99% of stunned faces below the podium.

"Some people like the desolate wilderness and redemption in the ferryman,

while others are obsessed with the convenience store and obsession in soul ferry.

You even nearly caused a huge argument during morning reading over which of the two authors is superior."

Luo Ji pushed up his glasses and lowered his head awkwardly.

Zhang Ya looked around, a hint of stubbornness in her eyes.

"Originally, I planned to confiscate all related books and then give you a 'focusing class'."

Shen Qingqiu paused, and the corner of her mouth twitched quickly, like a self-mocking smile.

"But just a few days ago, I realized something.

Prevention is worse than cure; since your minds have already flown away, forcing them onto test papers is useless."

She stepped back, yielding the center of the podium.

"For this class, I will hand the podium over to a student... who has a unique insight into both of these books.

Let him talk to you about what 'ferrying' truly means."

Shen Qingqiu's gaze pierced through the stacks of books,

landing precisely on the figure in the back corner.

"Lin Que, it's your turn!"

The whole class erupted in surprise.

All eyes focused on Lin Que like searchlights.

The pen in Wu Di's hand dropped to the floor with a "pat,"

and his mouth was open wide enough to fit an egg.

"Brother Que... Brother Que?"

Wu Di muttered softly.

"Is Old Shen using you as a sacrificial offering?"

Lin Que sighed.

He slowly stood up, pulling down the hem of his wrinkled school uniform.

Under the dozens of curious or doubtful gazes, he walked unhurriedly.

Shen Qingqiu handed him the chalk, then walked straight to the back of the classroom,

pulled out an empty chair, and sat down.

Lin Que held the half-piece of chalk, twirling it between his fingers.

He didn't rush to speak, but instead propped his hands on the lecture desk,

leaning forward slightly, his gaze sweeping from the first row to the last.

"Since Teacher Shen asked me to chat, I'll just talk casually."

Lin Que's voice was not loud, carrying his characteristic lazy drawl, yet it inexplicably captivated the listeners.

"From the looks in your eyes just now, you're probably all thinking:

'What the hell does a sleeping academic slag like you know about literature?'"

A smattering of laughter sounded below, and the atmosphere relaxed slightly.

"It's true, I don't know anything about literary theory."

Lin Que smiled and casually drew a horizontal line under the two characters 'The Ferry' on the blackboard,

writing [Jian Shen] on the left and [Dream Weaver] on the right.

"But I understand fear."

Lin Que pointed to the right side.

"Many people say that soul ferry is about ghosts, and that it creates anxiety.

But what I see is not ghosts, but people.

They are the 'people' who refuse to let go, even after death."

He looked at Zhang Ya in the front row:

"Zhang Ya, you like the ferryman because Tristan will fight the whole world for Dylan, right?"

Zhang Ya was stunned for a moment, then subconsciously nodded:

"That is the power of love and courage."

"Exactly, that's what we aspire to be."

Lin Que nodded in agreement, then suddenly changed the topic.

"But reality often looks like what's depicted in soul ferry.

There is no handsome ferryman to guide you through the wilderness, only a cold Convenience Store No. 444,

and a Zhao Li pointing a gun at you, asking: 'What regrets do you have?'"

"In fact, everyone of us harbors a ghost in their heart."

Lin Que's voice deepened, and the laughter in the classroom ceased.

"For Luo Ji, this ghost might be the last major question on the physics exam.

For Liu Hui, it might be that practice song she can never play correctly.

For Wu Di..."

Lin Que glanced at his best friend.

"It might be that pack of spicy strips that got confiscated."

The previously serious atmosphere was broken by the mention of spicy strips; everyone burst into laughter, and Wu Di scratched his head, blushing.

"Jokes aside, the principle is the same."

Lin Que tapped the blackboard.

"These things are our obsessions.

They cling to us like ghosts, causing anxiety, insomnia, and even self-doubt."

"Jian Shen's the ferryman tells us: Don't be afraid, move forward, there will be light.

It's like a piece of candy; eating it makes your heart feel sweet."

"And Dream Weaver's soul ferry,

tells us: Stop, look back, admit your fear, admit your powerlessness.

It's like a scalpel; cutting the wound hurts, but it lets the pus drain out."

The classroom was eerily silent.

Luo Ji took off his glasses, staring thoughtfully at the blackboard.

Zhang Ya bit her lip, the pen in her hand hovering over her notebook, unable to write.

"We are sitting here now,

facing the upcoming final exams, facing the expectations of parents and teachers,

essentially like lonely wandering souls standing outside the entrance of Convenience Store No. 444."

Lin Que shrugged.

"We are all waiting for a ferryman.

Hoping that some immortal will descend from the heavens, tell us the answers to the exam questions, and tell us that the future is bright."

"But..."

Lin Que paused for a long time, his gaze becoming sharp.

"How can there be so many Tristans in this world? The gun Zhao Li holds isn't loaded with bullets; it's loaded with reality."

He turned around and heavily wrote a line of text on the blackboard.

[There is no ferryman; you must ferry yourself.]

"Admit that you might fail, admit that you are tired right now, admit that you are just an ordinary person.

This isn't giving up; this is letting yourself go."

Lin Que tossed the chalk stub and clapped the dust from his hands.

"Only by first acknowledging the 'ghost' in your heart can you send it away.

As for the final exam? It's nothing more than a tiny, insignificant hurdle on the road of life.

If you cross it, it's a door; if you can't cross it... you can just crawl over it. The posture might be ugly, but nobody dies."

When his voice faded, the classroom remained in dead silence.

A full five seconds passed.

In the corner, Luo Ji was the first to applaud.

Next was Zhang Ya, then Wu Di,

and finally, the applause engulfed the entire classroom like a tide.

Those gazes, which had originally held scrutiny, disdain, or even hostility, now became complicated.

They suddenly realized that this young man, who usually seemed detached from the collective, actually had a clearer understanding of life than anyone else.

Lin Que smiled, preparing to step down from the podium.

"Well said."

A slightly hoarse voice came from the back of the classroom.

Shen Qingqiu stood up.

Her eyes were slightly red, whether moved by the speech or recalling some past event, it was unclear.

She walked step by step onto the podium, looking at Lin Que,

not telling him to leave immediately, but asking him to stand to the side.

"Lin Que is right. Teachers can't take your exams for you, nor can we live your future lives for you."

Shen Qingqiu placed her hands on the podium, taking a deep breath, as if making a huge decision.

"Since we're talking about the ghost in our hearts, I'll share one of... my ghosts."

All the students pricked up their ears.

In their minds, Shen Qingqiu was the indestructible "Mistress Miejue,"

a steel warrior without any weaknesses.

"My third year of high school was also at this school."

Shen Qingqiu looked down, her gaze somewhat unfocused, as if piercing through time.

"Back then, I was severely unbalanced in my subjects; my math was utterly terrible.

On the first mock exam, I scored 59 points."

A chorus of incredulous gasps arose from below the stage.

The head of the Chinese Language department actually failed a test?

"At that time, I felt like the sky was falling."

Shen Qingqiu gave a wry smile.

"I felt I had let down my parents and my teachers, and I even felt that living was meaningless.

That night, I did something incredibly stupid."

She paused, an embarrassed blush appearing on her face.

"I crumpled that test paper into a ball, shoved it into my mouth, and literally ate it."

"Huh?!"

The entire class was dumbfounded; even Lin Que raised an eyebrow in surprise.

That move was truly hardcore.

"I regretted it immediately after eating it because the ink tasted disgusting, and my stomach hurt all night."

As Shen Qingqiu spoke, tears streamed down the corners of her eyes, yet a smile was on her lips.

"The next day, I still had to face the teachers and correct the wrong answers.

That 59 points didn't magically turn into 95 just because I ate the paper."

"Back then, I thought it was a catastrophe, an insurmountable obstacle.

But looking back now, it's just a joke, an anecdote I can tell now to make you laugh."

Shen Qingqiu took off her glasses and wiped the corners of her eyes.

"What I want to tell you is, no matter how this final exam turns out,

even if you really score 59 points, don't follow my example and eat the test paper.

Because the taste... is really bad."

"Hahahaha—"

The classroom erupted in unprecedented laughter.

Even the most serious students were now doubled over with laughter.

Some girls laughed until tears streamed down their faces.

That heavy dark cloud that had been pressing down on them for the entire semester,

seemed to have been torn open by this laughter and these tears.

Shen Qingqiu also smiled. She looked at these children, her gaze becoming softer than ever before.

"Alright, settle down once you've had enough laughs."

She put her glasses back on, regaining some of her sternness, but the sense of distance was completely gone.

"This weekend, rest if you should rest, and review if you should review.

Remember what Lin Que said: there is no hurdle you cannot overcome."

The bell rang right on time.

"Class dismissed!"

But this class, no one rushed out of the classroom as usual.

Everyone sat in their seats for a while, seemingly processing this special class meeting.

When Lin Que returned to his seat, Luo Ji turned around and awkwardly adjusted his glasses:

"Lin Que, that... what you just said makes a lot of sense.

I was narrow-minded when I said soul ferry was opportunistic."

"It's fine. There is no first place in literature."

Lin Que waved his hand magnanimously.

"Brother Que!"

Wu Di grabbed Lin Que's arm, his eyes teary.

"I've decided! If I fail the final exam again this time, I'm going to eat the test paper! A tribute to Teacher Shen!"

"Buzz off! If you want to eat it, eat it yourself. Don't blame me if you get diarrhea."

Zhang Ya in the front row packed her school bag.

As she passed Lin Que, she paused.

She didn't look back, only whispered:

"Thank you."

After saying that, she quickly walked out of the classroom.

Lin Que looked out the window.

The gloomy sky seemed to have split open,

and a faint but resolute beam of sunset light shone through.

It shone on the words "you must ferry yourself" written on the blackboard, casting a golden glow.

He touched the phone in his pocket.

Inside were two worlds, two identities.

But at this moment, he felt that,

being Lin Que again didn't seem so bad...