Chapter 17: Extra Lessons Upstairs

What happened in the office was only a minor episode.

When the dismissal bell rang that afternoon, Wen Shuyao and I packed our stationery and followed Chen Ziang and Zhou Wei up to multimedia classroom 501 on the fifth floor.

Teacher Lin was in charge of training the entire third grade. Students from the other three classes were already seated. Including the four from ours, there were sixteen little children in all.

Sixteen competing for two places.

In this era, each grade had only two places to represent the school in the city, so the competition was fierce.

The atmosphere differed from an ordinary noisy study period. The children from different classes were strangers, eyeing one another with a quiet tension.

The desks were spaced widely apart, with plenty of empty seats. Teacher Lin was organizing handouts at the front and told everyone to sit wherever they liked.

Seeking peace and quiet, I chose a desk in the front corner by the window.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chen Ziang, in his thick black-framed glasses, looking over with his notebook in his arms. He took a step as if intending to sit beside me. In a nine-year-old boy’s simple view, sitting with another boy was naturally more comfortable.

Unfortunately for him, he was half a step too slow. A slender figure had already come over.

Wen Shuyao stopped beside the empty seat, her canvas pencil pouch in her arms. She pressed her lips together a little uncertainly and asked softly, “Fang Luo, shall we keep sitting together?”

I blinked. It was hard to refuse.

Most of the room consisted of strangers from Classes Two, Three, and Four. For a quiet girl like Wen Shuyao, it was natural to want to sit with a familiar deskmate in an unfamiliar setting. I probably wasn’t her best friend, but among these people, I was the one she knew best.

“Go ahead.” I pulled out the inner chair.

The uncertainty left her eyes. She smiled, thanked me sweetly, and sat down with easy grace.

Beaten to the seat, Chen Ziang stood frozen in the aisle, looking lost behind his black frames. He looked around, then reluctantly moved to the row behind and sat stiffly beside Zhou Wei, our class’s English representative.

Zhou Wei was a quiet girl with an ear-length mushroom haircut. She and Chen Ziang didn’t usually interact. Sitting side by side with a gap half a foot wide between them, they stared at their desks, every inch of them stiff and awkward.

“All right, is everyone seated? Quiet for a moment.”

Teacher Lin clapped her hands, her clear voice breaking the silence. “The school takes this citywide primary-school English competition very seriously.

“Starting today, our intensive training will last six days. On Sunday, we’ll go to the city for the competition.”

She turned and drew a timeline on the board, explaining the selection process clearly.

“For the first five days, Monday through Friday, all sixteen students will meet in this classroom for intensive practice.

“On Friday afternoon, the teachers will give a comprehensive mock test. Based on the scores, only the top two students will remain to represent the school; the other fourteen will unfortunately be eliminated.”

She paused, her tone especially gentle. “The two who pass selection will need to return on Saturday for a full day of one-on-one final coaching.

“Early Sunday, you’ll travel to the city together in a vehicle arranged by the school. So everyone will need to stay an extra hour after school each day and leave around five.

“Since today is the first day, we’re mainly explaining the rules and format. I’ll let you go half an hour early. Be sure to tell your parents the schedule.

“If anyone has a scheduling conflict or finds the pressure too much and doesn’t want to participate, you can come directly to my office tomorrow morning. Nobody will be forced.”

The children’s eyelids twitched as they listened. Fourteen of sixteen would be eliminated, so most were there to make up the numbers. Still, students were meant to learn, and the extra lessons would expand their English knowledge. It couldn’t be judged purely as a gain or loss.

After explaining the schedule, Teacher Lin opened a competition guide and outlined the events.

“The city competition has two main sections: a written test and an oral test.

“The written section emphasizes basic grammar and reading. The oral section includes an impromptu reading and, most difficult of all, questions from the examiners that teams compete to answer first…”

Teacher Lin explained carefully and mentioned various unexpected question types they might encounter.

There was no intensive lesson today, only the rules, competition content, and answering techniques. Half an hour passed before we knew it.

As the wall clock reached four thirty, Teacher Lin closed the book with a smile. “That’s all for today. Go home early and explain the schedule to your parents. Be on time tomorrow after school!”

“Goodbye, Teacher!”

The room filled with the sound of schoolbags being zipped.

Having heard everything, I had nothing to do. The selection posed no pressure for me. If there was no composition, I’d get full marks on primary-school written questions. My spoken English might not have a London accent, but it would certainly be enough for the city teachers.

I put my one pen and notebook into my bag. That was everything.

Beside me, Wen Shuyao carefully put her notebook into her pencil pouch and glanced at me. She seemed to want to talk, uncertainty showing on her fair little face.

When we’d both finished packing and were about to leave, she said, “Fang Luo, Teacher Lin said there will be questions during the oral test… The people in the competition must all be very good, right?”

Were they? Probably, given the selection process. But at most it was a city competition.

“They should be all right,” I said, giving the all-purpose answer.

Wen Shuyao sounded discouraged. “Even when I stand up to read in class, I get nervous. At another school, in front of unfamiliar teachers, I don’t think I’ll be as good as the others… Maybe I’ll be eliminated on Friday.”

Seeing how worried she was before the contest had even started, I understood that children liked to let their thoughts run away with them.

“Didn’t you do well in English last time?” I slung my bag over one shoulder. “The written questions won’t be hard for you. For the oral test, just speak clearly and confidently.

“It’s only just begun. If you work hard, you might beat the others. Don’t get discouraged before you start.”

Wen Shuyao blinked her clear eyes. Her tense face gradually relaxed, and she smiled. “Mm! Thank you for comforting me, Fang Luo. I’ll do my best!”

As we spoke, deliberate footsteps sounded behind us.

I turned. Chen Ziang stood beside our desk with his square schoolbag on his back and a serious, expressionless face.

Wen Shuyao watched from beside me, but Chen had no tact whatsoever. He addressed me stiffly. “Fang Luo, tomorrow… can I sit with you? I don’t like sitting with girls. It’s awkward.”

Wen Shuyao: “…”

I looked silently at the unbending little schoolboy. Even if he felt that way, saying it in front of Wen Shuyao was rather embarrassing for her, wasn’t it?

After all, if he sat with me, the other deskmate would…

No, no. What was I thinking?

Elementary-school social niceties? Forget it. I’d settle this with mature thinking.

Seeing how uncomfortable Chen Ziang was, I pointed to the large desks in the middle of the classroom. “Sure, but Wen Shuyao is my deskmate. We won’t all fit at a two-person desk.

“If you want to sit together tomorrow, let’s use the middle group. Those desks are joined in threes, so three people can sit side by side.”

Chen Ziang pushed up his thick glasses and nodded seriously. “Okay. I’ll come early tomorrow and save a place in the middle row.”

As though he’d completed an important handover, he hurried out with his bag on his back.

Watching him go, I figured I’d done another good deed. Children seemed to care about such things. Hopefully he could put his attention on studying English now.

That reminded me. I looked at Wen Shuyao. “Do you still want to sit with me tomorrow?” It wasn’t right to decide for her without asking.

She shook her head lightly. “I don’t mind.

“It’s just… if Chen Ziang comes to sit with us tomorrow, won’t Zhou Wei be left all alone? She’s our class’s English representative. If everyone else sits in pairs and she’s the only one left at a desk, she’ll feel awful.”

“…” Did I have to solve that too? The four of us couldn’t fit together no matter what.

What should I say?

Before I could answer, Wen Shuyao lowered her head in thought. Then she looked up seriously, as if she’d made a decision. “Fang Luo, if Zhou Wei really is left alone tomorrow, I’ll go sit with her. I can hear Teacher Lin from anywhere. We can’t let her feel excluded.”

“…” What a kind answer, I thought.

“I understand.” I nodded.

When Wen Shuyao and I left classroom 501, the sun still hung low in the sky. A cool autumn breeze dispersed the heat in the corridor.

Amid such small, youthful complications, Monday came quietly to an end.

“Fang Luo, see you tomorrow! Bye!” Wen Shuyao spread her slender little fingers and waved.

“…” I didn’t really want to greet her that way. It felt so close and familiar, like innocent childhood friends.

“Bye,” I said softly.

…

Before long it was Wednesday.

During the long break after second period, the whole school did its routine broadcast calisthenics, a set called “The Times Are Calling.” Once it ended, a tide of noise surged through the corridors.

Groups of sweaty children with crooked red scarves poured up the concrete steps, filling Class One, Grade Three with hot, noisy voices.

Incidentally, trends in this era always appeared without warning. Something else had become popular in our class.

Several girls at the back and by the window gathered excitedly to discuss *Meteor Garden*, which had just become a huge television hit. They talked about F4, Dao Mingsi, and Hua Zelei, their eyes full of dreamy pink bubbles.

The boys’ world was simpler and rougher. The marble craze had cooled somewhat, and the latest craze was round cards cut from stiff paper, printed with crude pictures of Ultraman fighting monsters or colorful cartoons.

Li Bo, Monkey, and a few others lay on the cold concrete floor at the back, sleeves rolled up, striking the ground with their palms to flip their opponents’ cards with the gust of air.

As Monkey passed my desk, his hands black with dust, he excitedly waved a card at me. “Luo, want a game? I just got a rare gold-edged Ultraman Gaia!”

I calmly waved him off. I was always melancholy, after all. A game involving slapping a dirty floor was hard for me to accept.

Just as I was bound to feel out of place among boys crawling around with runny noses, my deskmate Wen Shuyao was lately in a different world from the girls swooning over television idols.

“Fang Luo… does this question use the simple past?”

Her soft voice came from beside me. She pushed an English competition practice booklet toward the middle of our desk.

She leaned a little closer as she turned to look at me, though her good manners kept her at a polite distance. A faint scent of lavender laundry powder and shampoo drifted over, clearer than usual.

It smelled pleasant.

Sunlight fell diagonally across her fair profile, loose hair tucked behind her ear and long eyelashes trembling. I had to admit, she was a genuinely pretty little girl.

But all of that was just necessary description. It didn’t mean I’d gotten any ideas.

I brought my attention back to the typical multiple-choice competition question she indicated:

Look! The bus ________ (come). But yesterday, Tom ________ (miss) it.

For ordinary third-graders who had only just learned “What’s this?” and basic vocabulary at school, a question involving changes in verb tense—especially mixed tenses—was difficult.

For me, it was no trouble. At Wen Shuyao’s request, I took out my pencil and wrote two structures on a blank piece of scratch paper.

“Look at the keyword in the first half.”

I pointed my pencil at “Look” and explained slowly, chin in hand. “Words that draw attention, like ‘look’ or ‘listen,’ indicate an action happening right now. That’s the present continuous: a form of ‘be’ plus the verb ending in ‘-ing.’

“The subject, ‘the bus,’ is singular, so the form of ‘be’ is ‘is.’ For ‘come,’ drop the e and add ‘-ing.’

“So the first blank is ‘is coming.’”

Wen Shuyao blinked and quickly wrote a neat little note in parentheses.

“The past tense you asked about is in the second half.” I underlined “yesterday” and continued casually; third-grade questions really were no challenge for me.

“‘Yesterday’ tells us it happened in the past, so the regular verb ‘miss’ becomes past tense by adding ‘-ed’: ‘missed.’

“The whole sentence is: ‘Look! The bus is coming. But yesterday, Tom missed it.’

“The first half tests the present continuous; only the second uses the past tense. Don’t mix them up.”

“So the first part is continuous…”

Understanding dawned on Wen Shuyao. She let out a breath and quickly copied the correct answers. Then she looked up at me and said warmly, “Fang Luo, your explanation is much clearer than the reference book’s. I thought the whole sentence had to change to past tense because of ‘yesterday.’”

“Pay attention to the time expressions. It’s not too hard.” I put away my pencil.

During this past week of staying an hour after school for training in room 501, Wen Shuyao had turned to me during breaks whenever she couldn’t understand a problem. With this targeted help filling the gaps in her knowledge, her progress was obvious.

In fairness, Wen Shuyao was already an excellent student.

In the last monthly exam, her total score had placed her firmly in the top ten across all four classes in the grade. Her foundation was strong.

But the schoolwide English training group was full of hidden talent. Besides the student from Class Two who ranked third in the grade behind Chu Hanya and me, there was a top student from Class Four whose private tutor was said to be a university English major.

Only two of sixteen would remain. The competition was brutal and left no room for mistakes.

After putting her notebook in order, Wen Shuyao took a short break. “It’s already Wednesday… The selection test is only two days away.” Her voice held a trace of worry.

“Stay calm,” I said instinctively. “Just show what you’ve learned these past two days.”

She tilted her head and smiled warmly. “Mm! Let’s both do our best!”

She raised a fist to cheer us on. I came back to myself and decided to respond to her expectation. “Let’s do our—”

“Class is about to start, Fang Luo. Stop disturbing Wen Shuyao. No talking.”

Chu Hanya’s voice drifted back from the front row.

…

At four that afternoon, the dismissal bell rang on time.

As the other students grabbed their schoolbags and cheered their way toward the gate, Wen Shuyao, Chen Ziang, Zhou Wei, and I packed our review handouts and took the familiar stairs to classroom 501 on the fifth floor.

When we opened the door, Teacher Lin was already waiting at the front. “Everyone, sit down quickly.”

Since classes had just ended and the other trainees needed time to arrive, Chen Ziang and I sat together on the left by the window.

Why the two of us?

Over the previous two days, Zhou Wei had indeed been left alone in the back as Wen Shuyao predicted. Introverted and under the pressure of being the English representative, she’d looked especially lonely.

So at the second training session, Wen Shuyao had voluntarily moved to the back to sit beside her.

That left Chen Ziang and me with no reason to compete for a three-person desk in the middle. I didn’t mind whom I sat with, but Wen Shuyao’s action made me respect the little girl even more.

With nothing to do, I naturally closed my eyes to rest.

Let me introduce Chen Ziang. He was my classmate and had scored over 260 in the last monthly exam. Though his math and Chinese weren’t as extraordinarily strong as Chu Hanya’s, he’d memorized English vocabulary through sheer repetition and earned a training place on the strength of that subject.

In the days we’d sat together, we’d barely chatted except to discuss questions. He was rather taciturn, or perhaps rigid.

That suited me. My standard was simple: as long as he wasn’t noisy, he was a good deskmate.

Once everyone arrived, Teacher Lin handed out short reading passages entirely in English. Only the scratch of pencils on paper remained in the classroom.

After more than ten minutes, we finished. The answers were announced at the front, and we were told to mark each other’s papers.

Chen Ziang pushed up his thick black-framed glasses, put down the paper he’d just marked, and turned to me. “Fang Luo, you’re sure to pass Friday’s selection test. Your pronunciation and listening are too strong.”

“?…” I had been spinning my ballpoint pen. “Nobody can be sure,” I said, looking over.

A person should be modest.

Chen Ziang pressed his lips together. His gaze fell through his lenses onto the large red crosses on the paper. “I’m in trouble.

“There were too many unfamiliar words in those two passages today. I got half wrong, and now I have no confidence at all.”

My lips moved, but in the end I offered no comforting words and quietly looked away.

If Wen Shuyao or Su Xiaoqing had worn that expression, I might have said something encouraging. But this was a nine-year-old boy. We were both boys; trying to comfort him under the desk felt a little too mushy.

Still, his tense shoulders showed how much the selection meant to everyone. Sixteen top students chosen from their classes had worked hard for a week after school, yet only two tickets were available.

The winners would represent the school in the city, attract attention, and win prize money. The losers would be reduced to background figures.

Children this age didn’t understand sunk costs or temporary disappointments over a long life. To them, elimination was probably a setback that seemed impossible to overcome, bringing only hurt and embarrassment.

Chen Ziang took several deep breaths in silence. Accustomed to self-discipline, he soon brought his disappointment under control. He picked up a red pen and meticulously annotated the unfamiliar words with pronunciation symbols and meanings, without another unnecessary word.

Tick, tick.

The old wall clock steadily reached five.

Teacher Lin closed her lesson plan at the front and clapped her hands with a warm, bright smile. “All right, that’s all for today. Class dismissed!”

“Goodbye, Teacher!”

…