Sunflower

Author: Su Tong
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-08-01
Features: Excerpt from the book: I thought Xiang Weiwei was a good student, but Teacher Sheng said she wasn’t. Teacher Sheng said, “Xiang Weiwei is like this, you’ll see after a while.” At that time, we stood in the college’s exhibition hall, and Teacher Sheng took me to see the designs of the majors during their internship at the factory. She looked at me with a pitying gaze and said, “I don’t know how young teachers judge people. Everyone says she’s good, but you’ve been fooled by her shy demeanor.” I didn’t argue. I saw a white cotton cloth in the display window, printed with a large, golden sunflower. A tag was stuck in the corner of the cloth, with Xiang Weiwei’s name on it. I was trying to figure out how to defend myself when I said, “Her design isn’t bad. It looks quite passionate and is different from others.” But I saw a disdainful smirk forming on Teacher Sheng’s lips. She said, “She doesn’t think for herself. The sunflower pattern is copied.” I was taken aback, then I heard Teacher Sheng whisper, “I’ve never seen such a shameless girl!” I had just taken over Teacher Sheng’s counseling work, and I could tell she was very frustrated with Xiang Weiwei, even hostile toward her. I didn’t know what the two of them had against each other, but I was puzzled why the tall, slender girl with a shy expression would receive such a cruel evaluation.
The dormitory for young teachers was inside the student dormitory building. From my window, I could see students passing by—boys and girls studying the arts, naturally different from others. Many boys and girls wore jeans with holes or cut legs, covered in traces of paint and ink. They walked along, tapping on their lunchboxes, heading from the cafeteria toward the dormitory. I didn’t see Xiang Weiwei often. Once, I saw her talking with a male classmate near the bicycle shed. When she spoke, her expression became lively, her body swaying left and right. I didn’t know what they were talking about, but suddenly, I saw Xiang Weiwei make an astonishing move. She suddenly kicked the male classmate’s knee, then ran toward the dormitory, looking back at the shed. Even though she was covering her mouth to laugh, I heard her laughter—rough and unrestrained, like a boy’s.
I saw her running into the dormitory, holding up her skirt. That’s when I noticed her skirt—it was long and wide, with a floral pattern identical to her internship work: a white background with golden sunflowers. I was careless about my job. In fact, I was more suited to studying or fooling around with the students than being their counselor. But one day, Xiang Weiwei came to my dormitory, saying she wanted to talk about her scholarship. She knocked and entered, her eyes not looking at me. She brushed her freshly washed hair from top to bottom with a comb while staring at a landscape calendar on the wall.
I had a scholarship last semester, she said, but this semester the spinster took it away. A spinster has no right to do that. Our family’s income is very low, and my grades are good too. Why does she have the right to take away my scholarship? I was about to ask who the spinster was, but quickly realized she was referring to Teacher Sheng. What I didn’t understand was that Teacher Sheng was clearly a married woman, her husband being the vocal music teacher in the music department. Why did she call her a spinster? I really wanted to ask, but considering my position, it wasn’t appropriate to pry into such matters. So I said, “I’ll go ask in the department for clarification and get back to you.”
I remember Xiang Weiwei standing by my desk at that moment. She quietly opened a book I had on the table with her comb and glanced at the inside cover. Her expression told me she thought the book was boring. Then I felt her suddenly brighten up, giving a small smile and saying, “Forget it, forget it. Just consider it my unreasonable fuss. Don’t go asking in the department. Anyway, I don’t care about that little bit of money.” I watched her walk toward the door, then she seemed to suddenly remember something, turned back, and asked, “Do you like playing poker?” I casually replied, “As long as it’s exciting.” Xiang Weiwei’s eyes lit up immediately. I heard her say in a delighted voice, “It’s exciting! We’ll bet on meal tickets!”