90: Forever young, forever immortal

The opening line was abrupt and without context,

like a stone thrown into a deep well.

There was no echo, only a chill in one's heart.

Fei Yuncheng's fingers, which were unscrewing his thermos, stiffened.

The rising steam fogged his glasses, but he forgot to wipe them.

He just stared blankly at the stage through the white mist.

Bureau Chief Hu, with his graying hair, leaned back slightly,

then slowly straightened up from the back of his chair.

The accompanying staff next to him was about to explain something but was gently silenced by his raised hand.

On stage, Lin Que adjusted the microphone height.

"Biology textbooks tell us,

that when the heart stops, brainwaves disappear, and breathing ceases, that is death."

His voice was flat, without any Inflammatory (incitement),

yet it clearly reached every corner of the auditorium.

"This is the first time."

The LED screen behind him silently lit up.

There were no dazzling special effects, only a black and white negative magnified countless times.

Rough noise pixels flickered on the screen, like fragments of memory worn away by time.

The image showed a middle-aged man in a Dacron shirt, holding a half-piece of chalk, writing on a blackboard.

Sunlight streamed through the old-fashioned wooden window grilles, shining on his somewhat sparse hair.

The students below, who had been whispering, fell silent.

In the third row, among the teaching and research group,

a slightly older teacher instinctively covered her mouth, her voice trembling:

"Heavens... Is that Teacher Yan Song?"

The older physics group leader next to her adjusted his glasses, his voice suddenly hoarse:

"It's Teacher Yan... He passed away from lung cancer three years ago.

It was already late stage when it was discovered..."

...Lin Que didn't turn to look at the photo, as if that person was standing right behind him.

"The second death is the funeral."

"Relatives and friends, dressed in black, bow at the funeral home.

Some cry, some are silent.

At this point, their identity in this society is canceled.

Their ID card is clipped, and their household registration is removed."

The photo on the screen switched.

This time, it was a faded color photograph.

The background was the old campus of Jiangcheng No. 1 High School, which had already been demolished.

An old man with gray hair sat at the entrance of the guardhouse, holding an enamel mug, smiling with a face full of wrinkles.

A large yellow dog lay at his feet.

Jiang Changfeng, sitting below the stage, felt his eyelids twitch.

He recognized that enamel mug; it had a red character for "Award" printed on it.

Thirty years ago, when he was first assigned to No. 1 High School,

it was this Old Man Wang who insisted on giving him an oiled paper umbrella during a heavy rain.

That enamel mug always contained the cheapest root tea.

Lin Que's voice continued to flow, and background music quietly began at this moment.

It was an arpeggiated guitar solo, with a clean tone.

The melody was not complex, like a nursery rhyme.

A few notes repeated, each repetition carrying a deeper longing and the fear of impending loss.

"But neither of these counts as true death."

Lin Que stood up from the tall stool,

not even holding the microphone, but directly gripping the stand.

"Because there are still people who remember them."

"I only heard that Teacher Yan's eyes would redden when he lectured on 'The Back View'.

And I heard that Old Man Wang would give a piece of cardboard to every student without an umbrella on rainy days."

"But as long as someone remembers, they are still alive.

Alive in our minds, alive in conversations after tea, alive in these yellowing photographs."

Alive in these yellowing photographs."

The photos on the screen began to switch rapidly.

There was the sports committee member from ten years ago, who fell and bled all over his face during the relay race but was still smiling;

There was the chemistry teacher from twenty years ago, who fainted from overwork in the lab and had to be carried out;

There was even a photo from five years ago, of the lead singer of the school band, named Feixiang, standing right here.

In the photo, he had wild, layered hair and bright eyes.

Some teachers in the audience let out suppressed sobs.

This student, in the second year after graduation, was forever frozen at the age of twenty due to an accident.

Some of them had graduated many years ago, some... were no longer alive.

Each photo corresponded to a piece of Jiangcheng No. 1 High School's history,

a warmth forgotten by most, yet truly existing.

Several old teachers in the front row took off their glasses and secretly wiped their eyes.

Fei Yuncheng completely put down his thermos.

He stared intently at a photo of a young female teacher on the screen.

She was his partner when he first started working, and she died in a car accident.

"But..."

Lin Que's voice suddenly deepened, and the music shifted into a minor key.

"Eventually, the person who remembers Teacher Yan's blackboard writing will grow old, forget, or also pass away."

"There will also be a day when no one remembers the gatekeeper's name, and no one remembers whom he gave cardboard to."

"This is the third death."

"The ultimate death."

The surrounding light sources receded like a tide, and darkness once again swallowed the stage.

Only a pale overhead light remained, enveloping Lin Que and the dead gray screen behind him.

All those vibrant faces from before had vanished.

"When the last person in this world who remembers you forgets you,

then you truly disappear completely.

Along with all traces of your existence, your laughter, your tears, the people you loved, the things you hated, all return to zero."

"Like a drop of water vanishing into the sea, like a speck of dust scattered in the wind."

The auditorium was deadly silent.

No one spoke, no one played on their phones.

The breathing of over two thousand people seemed to synchronize.

The students who had just been mocking the poetry recitation as boring were now staring blankly at the stage.

That fear was not the fright of being chased by ghosts in a horror movie, but a chill seeping into their very bones.

Being forgotten.

This was more terrifying than death.

Lin Que looked at the pairs of eyes flickering in the darkness below the stage.

He knew the moment was right.

"So, why are we standing here?"

The music suddenly swelled, becoming passionate and grand.

"We stand here not to get good grades, not to earn a lot of money in the future."

"We are fighting against oblivion."

"Every word we write, every song we sing, every group photo we leave behind, is us telling time, 'I refuse to yield!'"

"Teacher Yan is gone, but his students are still teaching.

Old Man Wang is gone, but the phoenix tree he planted at the entrance remains tall and straight."

The screen suddenly lit up, this time not with old photos,

but with a photo Lin Que had just taken backstage.

In the photo,

the dance team was stretching their legs,

Li Ze was nervously adjusting his tie,

Zhang Ya was memorizing lines,

Wu Di was handing Lin Que a lollipop... That was them now.

Vibrant, passionate, not yet devoured by time.

"Don't be afraid of death."

Lin Que's voice penetrated the microphone, carrying the spirit of a young man and the gentleness of someone who had seen through the world.

"As long as we remember each other, as long as we live with all our might, death will not catch up to us."

"Please remember tonight.

Remember the people sitting beside you at this moment, remember this light, remember my voice."

"Because as long as you remember, we will be forever young, forever immortal!"

As Lin Que finished his last word, the background music abruptly stopped.

He didn't bow, nor did he say "Thank you, everyone."

He just stood there quietly, looking at the audience.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

No applause.

A massive silence enveloped the entire auditorium.

That suppressed, heavy emotion clogged everyone's chests, making them even forget to breathe.

Li Ze stood by the side curtain, holding his unfinished water, as if frozen.

He looked at the figure in the school uniform on stage.

The sense of powerlessness rising from his heart made his fingers cold.

Suddenly,

a sob came from a corner of the venue.

Then, like a floodgate being opened.

Applause erupted from the grade 11, class 3 section... then grade 12, grade 10... but the front row of leaders remained silent.

Just as the applause was about to spread throughout the venue,

Bureau Chief Hu of the Municipal Education Bureau, sitting in the very center, slowly stood up.

He didn't applaud; instead, he turned to Principal Jiang Changfeng, whose expression was complex,

and said something that would be recorded in the history of Jiangcheng No. 1 High School:

"Changfeng, this is education.

This lesson, today, all the teachers and students, including us, have learned together."

After speaking, he led the applause.

At this moment, Jiang Changfeng, Fei Yuncheng, Shen Qingqiu... everyone stood up.

Thunderous applause, mixed with countless uncontrollable sobs, erupted with a roar, almost tearing off the auditorium roof.

Lin Que stood in the light, looking at the blurred faces below, and subtly curved his lips.

He turned and walked back behind the dark curtain.

"Lin Que!"

As soon as he stepped off stage, a red figure rushed over.

Zhang Ya's eye makeup was ruined from crying, the black eyeliner smudged across her face.

She looked like a calico cat, but she didn't care at all.

"You... you..."

She pointed at Lin Que, unable to form a complete sentence for a long time.

Finally, she stamped her foot hard.

"You're a jerk! Who told you to make everyone cry?!"

Lin Que shrugged, pulled out a pack of tissues from beside him, and handed them to her:

"Your makeup's smudged, touch it up. Don't scare the audience later."

Zhang Ya took the tissues, wiping her tears while glaring at him:

"You just wait, this isn't over!"

Lin Que smiled, walked around her, and headed towards the lounge.

As he passed Li Ze, Li Ze kept his head down, not daring to look at him.

Lin Que didn't stop either, but as he passed him, he lightly dropped a sentence:

"'Peppa Pig and Family,' I want to hear the English version."

...