445: Chapter 445 Jiangcheng's Elders

Only the humming of the air conditioning vents remained in the classroom.

Elder Cui sat astride a chair, his arms resting on the backrest.

His eyes, unshielded by lenses, were like two probes fixed firmly on Lin Que's face.

The air felt as if it had been compressed by that single sentence.

The shock brought by 'rural teacher' still hung in the classroom,

but Elder Cui's question was equivalent to pulling a foundation stone out from under that shock.

If he could answer, all the previous brilliance would have a source.

If he couldn't, those details of the loess, precise enough to sting, would become even greater points of suspicion.

Lin Que leaned against the back of his chair, his posture with fingers interlaced remaining unchanged.

Several answers flashed through his mind.

Researching data.

Watching documentaries.

Consulting local gazetteers.

These reasons would be enough to deal with ordinary judges, but before Elder Cui, they would only seem perfunctory.

A man who had spent ten years as a sent-down youth in the Northwest could tell the difference between loess in a book and loess dug out from under fingernails.

Documentaries can capture wind and sand, but they can't capture the ring of brown tea stains at the bottom of an enamel mug that can never be washed clean.

Gazetteers can write about famine years and communes, but they can't describe the scent of tobacco ash mixed into the cracks of an earthen kang bed.

At a time like this, the last thing one should do is fabricate lies.

The safest answer should be a part of the truth.

He looked at Elder Cui, his gaze calm and without evasion.

"Elder Cui, you are right."

Lin Que spoke, his pace neither fast nor slow.

"I have indeed never been to the Northwest."

Elder Cui's brow twitched.

"I haven't even stepped foot into Shaanxi Province."

Lin Que added a sentence, his tone as candid as if he were discussing what he'd eaten at the cafeteria today.

Elder Cui leaned forward an inch.

"Then tell me."

His voice deepened.

"The bloodshot eyes in the enamel mug, the cracks on the earthen kang, the sound of chalk dust falling on the podium. Where did you get these things from?"

He had spent ten years as a sent-down youth in the Northwest.

In those ten years, he had seen more enamel mugs, earthen kangs, and chalk dust than everyone in this classroom combined.

So he knew all too well.

That kind of detail isn't something you can find by researching data.

Documentaries can't capture that level of granularity, and literature won't record the color of the unwashable tea stain at the bottom of an enamel mug.

Those are things that have been touched by hands, seen inch by inch by eyes, and smelled by noses.

Lin Que did not answer immediately.

His gaze fell on the blank blackboard behind Elder Cui's shoulder.

Three seconds later, he withdrew his gaze.

"There is an elder in the old district of Jiangcheng."

Lin Que's voice was soft, but every word was clear.

"In his youth, he spent many years on the Loess Plateau. Later, he returned to Jiangcheng."

Elder Cui's fingers stilled.

"He likes to tell stories, and he tells them in great detail."

Lin Que's speaking pace was slow, as if he were replaying a certain memory frame by frame.

Elder Cui's breathing rhythm changed.

It didn't quicken; it suddenly skipped a beat.

"Jiangcheng."

Elder Cui repeated these two words.

His brain completed a high-speed calculation in an extremely short time.

Jiangcheng.

The Loess Plateau.

Telling stories in great detail.

These three phrases collided in Elder Cui's mind, and almost instantly, another name was struck out.

Jian Shen.

Among the very few pieces of information Wang De'an had revealed to the public, there was one that had been repeatedly chewed over by those in the circle—Jian Shen lived in Jiangcheng.

And that book, 'ordinary world', happened to describe the Loess Plateau so vividly that every grain of sand seemed to carry warmth.

Elder Cui's back pressed against the chair.

He looked at the seventeen-year-old youth before him, and the scattered fragments in his mind were rapidly pieced together at this moment by an invisible hand.

Lin Que and Jian Shen were both in Jiangcheng.

The Loess Plateau under Lin Que's pen and the Loess Plateau under Jian Shen's pen shared the same sense of texture.

Lin Que said an 'elder' told him stories.

That elder had spent many years on the Loess Plateau in his youth and later returned to Jiangcheng.

Elder Cui's Adam's apple bobbed.

A thought surfaced from the depths of Elder Cui's heart.

Could that so-called Jiangcheng elder be Jian Shen?

And could Lin Que be the young man personally mentored by that mysterious author?

This inference couldn't be confirmed yet.

But once established, all of Lin Que's sense of experience that exceeded his age would have a source.

Elder Cui's fingers tapped twice on the back of the chair.

He suppressed the surging emotions in his heart and decided to try one more time.

"That elder of yours." Elder Cui's voice was very low, as if he were cautiously touching something.

"In those stories he told, did he ever mention a detail?"

He paused for a beat.

"In Shuangshui Village in 1975, after the commune cafeteria dismissed, what did the last person to go for food receive?"

This detail came from the first chapter of 'ordinary world'.

Sun Shaoping was the last to go to the cafeteria, and he received two black flour buns and a bowl of watery, clear soup vegetables.

This wasn't a detail that would be written into any literary criticism.

It was too small, so small that only someone who had truly read the original text word for word would remember it.

Lin Que glanced at Elder Cui.

He naturally knew what Elder Cui was testing.

"Two black flour buns," Lin Que said.

"And a portion of the plainest, least vegetable-like vegetables.

There was no oil, and no steam; held in the hand, it was so light it felt as if it couldn't even fill one's hunger."

Elder Cui's fingers stopped.

"The point isn't 'the last person'."

Lin Que continued, his tone flat.

"The point is that he intentionally waited until everyone had left before going. Because he could only eat the lowest grade of food, and he didn't want others to see."

Elder Cui didn't speak.

"A seventeen-year-old youth, so hungry his front was sticking to his back, yet he'd rather be hungry for an extra twenty minutes just to wait for the crowd to disperse before going."

Lin Que's voice was very soft.

"That isn't just self-esteem. That is the last bit of something a person poor to their very bones can hold onto."

Elder Cui's hands let go of the chair back.

He leaned back slightly, his entire posture undergoing a subtle change.

That scrutinizing pressure receded inch by inch like a low tide.

In its place was something more complex.

"You are very familiar with this book," Elder Cui said.

This sentence was no longer a question.

Lin Que did not deny it, nor did he explain further.

He just sat there quietly, waiting for Elder Cui to put the final piece of the puzzle in place.

Elder Cui looked at him, looking for a long time.

So long that the sound of a cleaning lady mopping the floor came from the hallway outside the classroom.

Then Elder Cui stood up.

He pushed the chair back, the legs scraping a short, sharp sound against the floor.

He put his hands back into his jacket pockets and looked down at Lin Que sitting in his seat.

In those eyes, the scrutiny was gone, the pressure was gone.

What remained was something very heavy.

Like a person who had walked in the literary world for most of their life suddenly seeing a line they thought had been broken, still continuing downward.

"Alright." Elder Cui's voice regained its casualness.

"I won't ask any more."

Lin Que stood up and gently pushed the chair back under the desk.

Elder Cui walked up to him and stopped.

The distance between the two was less than an arm's length.

Elder Cui raised his right hand and patted Lin Que heavily on the shoulder.

The force of that palm wasn't light, carrying a weight that only an elder would have.

"Give my regards to that elder."

Elder Cui's voice was steady, every word weighed down by an indescribable layer of meaning.

"To be able to tell the stories of that loess to the next generation, and to have the next generation write to this level, is not easy."

He paused.

"Tell him, the inheritance is not broken."

Lin Que bore the weight of the hand on his shoulder and nodded.

"Okay."

Elder Cui's hand let go. He turned around, strode toward the podium, and waved his hand with his back to Lin Que.

"Go on. Go back and get some good rest."

Lin Que picked up the notebook on the desk and walked toward the front door of the classroom.

He pulled open the door, and the cold light from the corridor flooded in.

"Lin Que."

Elder Cui's voice came from behind him.

Lin Que turned his head.

Elder Cui stood by the podium, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed, in the exact same posture as when the class began.

"Next week's draft, I'll be waiting to see it."

Lin Que smiled faintly.

"I won't let you down."

The door closed behind him.

The corridor was very quiet, with only the rhythmic friction of the cleaning lady's mop in the distance.

Lin Que walked down the corridor, his pace neither fast nor slow.

The corners of his mouth carried a very slight curve.

Elder Cui's reaction was entirely within expectations.

From the moment he decided to use the work 'rural teacher', he knew this question would come sooner or later.

For a seventeen-year-old youth from Jiangcheng to write about the Northwest with that level of granularity, any person with experience would ask about the source.

And the answer he gave—every word of it was true.

There indeed was an elder in Jiangcheng.

That elder had indeed spent time on the Loess Plateau in his youth, and had also returned to Jiangcheng to teach at a university.

Professor Li Yuanchao.

It was just that Elder Cui wouldn't think in that direction.

Because in Elder Cui's understanding, there was currently only one person in all of Huaxia who fit the criteria of a 'Jiangcheng elder' capable of writing about the Loess Plateau to that extent.

Lin Que walked out of the teaching building, and the October autumn wind blew against his face, carrying the slightly sweet scent of decaying plane tree leaves.

He tucked the notebook under his arm and took out his phone to check the time.

12:43 PM.

With Elder Xu, what was seen was a hole card about to be revealed.

With Elder Cui, what was seen was a well-laid fork in the road.

Both titans were very close to the truth.

Yet both were missing the most crucial step.

And this step was temporarily enough to shield him from many gazes.

Lin Que put away his phone and walked toward the dormitory.

...

In the classroom.

Elder Cui stood by the podium, listening to the footsteps outside the door fade away bit by bit until they completely disappeared at the end of the corridor.

He pulled that flattened pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took one out, and held it in his mouth.

But he didn't light it.

He just stood there with it in his mouth for nearly a minute.

Then he took the cigarette out of his mouth, stuffed it back into the pack, and fished his phone out of his other pocket.

The light from the screen illuminated his face, making those lines deepened by years of staying up late exceptionally clear.

He scrolled through his contacts and found a name.

Dai Shengzong.

He pressed the dial button. After two rings, the other side picked up.

"Elder Cui?"

Dai Shengzong's voice came through the receiver, carrying a hint of surprise.

Elder Cui leaned against the edge of the podium, his voice very low, but his speaking pace twice as fast as usual.

"Shengzong, I just had a private chat with that kid."

The other end of the phone was quiet for a second.

"Did you find anything out?"

Elder Cui's finger tapped on the edge of the podium.

"He said there's an elder in Jiangcheng who spent many years on the Loess Plateau in his youth.

All those details were told to him by that elder."

The sound of breathing on the other end stopped for a beat.

"You mean..."

"I tested him," Elder Cui's voice deepened.

"I asked him about a tiny detail from the first chapter of 'ordinary world'. The part where Sun Shaoping was the last to go to the cafeteria for food."

"What did he say?"

"Not only did he answer it," Elder Cui's Adam's apple moved.

"He even explained the psychological layer of why Sun Shaoping waited for the crowd to disperse before going, making it crystal clear to me."

The other end of the phone was silent for five seconds.

"Shengzong."

Elder Cui's voice carried a rare solemnity.

"The relationship between this child and Jian Shen is likely much closer than we previously guessed."

The other end was silent for a few more seconds.

Then, Dai Shengzong lowered his voice.

"Don't let word of this get out for now."

Elder Cui narrowed his eyes.

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to invite Jian Shen one more time."

...