Spring Tree Four Years

Author: Chun Shu
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-01-01
Features: Chun Shu—poet, representative writer of the post-80s generation, known for his "cruel youth" and writing about China's new generation, creating an unbelievable miracle. He is also currently one of the most prominent young female writers. Since the summer of 2002 when he published his first novel "Beijing Girls," he has released five books. In these works, Chun Shu has preserved his youthful passion and nightmares in their entirety.
Five, School
Five, School
I knew one day I would write about this place. This is the××High School I desperately wanted to escape but seemed to never be able to leave. The two and a half years I spent there drained all my energy and passion. Even after I was sure I wouldn’t have to go back, I would still encounter it in my nightmares.
School started, and I adjusted to everything quickly. Perhaps after enduring the tough year of junior three, I had built up immunity. I continued to hold my old positions—as the publicity committee member and the League branch committee member. There wasn’t much homework, and two new classes often caused trouble for the students. Those were etiquette class and physical education class.
In etiquette class, Principal Pan taught it herself. I noticed her face was very pale, and if you stared at her for too long, she seemed like an animal—yes, a fox. As for physical education class, you had to wear a tight gym uniform, and there wasn’t much time to change clothes between classes. Everyone had complaints about it.
On the first day of school, I rode my bike into the school, and two grade directors—Director Li and "Big Belly Wang"—were standing in front, smiling, as if inspecting a troop.
"Hey, that student, push your bike out and re-enter the school!" At some point, "Big Belly Wang" pointed at me. What’s wrong with me? I reluctantly pushed my bike out, watched the other students enter, and then realized—everyone bowed and said, "Good morning, teachers!" Then the two directors "kindly" bent down in return. I understood. Suppressing my anger and feeling humiliated by bowing low, the two of them glanced at me and said with smiles, "Good morning."
On the first day of school, I experienced the strictness of the school’s rules firsthand. The tuition was very expensive, plus the miscellaneous fees, totaling nearly 2,000 yuan—more than the tuition I paid for three years of junior high. I made up my mind to study hard because the tuition was simply too high! A surge of grandiose words rose in my heart, but they were fleeting and soon slipped away.
Every morning, I left home and rode my bike for an hour to come here for education. Every day, I walked by the river in the morning and along the Third Ring Road in the evening, and it wasn’t too lonely. When I entered the classroom that day, I felt something was off—turns out, it was PE day, and I had come in wearing a suit. It’s over. Ten points lost. According to the school rules, if the school deducts one point, the class loses ten. During morning inspection, Teacher Wang looked at me and said, "Jiafu, ten points deducted for improper conduct. All classmates should pay attention not to wear the wrong clothes during PE." I tried to pay attention, but I still often wore the wrong clothes. It was really unavoidable.
In the afternoon, after school, I went to Peking University. It was so beautiful. Xie Sinii said it was like a park. "It’s even more beautiful than a park," I proudly said. Peking University now is more beautiful than the winter I visited when I was in junior three. I often get lost in Peking University, but I refuse to ask for directions even if I’m beaten to death. If I, a person who loves Peking University so much, ask a Peking University student, "Where is the North Gate?" Then what face would I have to live in the world?
For the first month of school, morning and noon inspections were for learning the school rules. This has always been the school’s tradition. Every incoming freshman received a small booklet with twenty-four pages, one for each student. They were required to read and memorize it every day during morning and noon inspections. It included the code of etiquette behavior and a poem, which I don’t know who "collected" it—maybe it was the handiwork of our talented and beautiful Principal Pan.
Politeness and appearance are crucial.
Memorize this four-character phrase by heart.
Sit upright, don’t cross your legs.
Stand straight, tighten your abdomen and straighten your waist.
Walk steadily, don’t sway or shake.
Keep your face clean, no makeup.
Hair should be natural, don’t follow trends.
Clothes should be neat, appropriate is best.
Be warm to others, bow and greet.
Speak kindly, with a smile.
Be gentle, neither humble nor arrogant.
Think positively, set high goals.
Improve your character, be humble and polite.
Have a refined temperament, avoid vulgarity.
In addition, there were some very mysterious rules, such as:
No entering other classes’ classrooms;
No external school students waiting outside the school for students—anyone found will be disciplined;
Students eating lunch at school are not allowed to buy things outside the campus;
Students who go home for lunch must submit a written application from their parents, and parents must regularly check in on their children’s lunchtime activities;
Students who go home for lunch must obtain an exit card for inspection at the school gate.
Our class had only twenty-seven students, five of whom were boys—the smallest class in the grade. We learned the rules and fooled around, but it was quite fun. At first, everything was easy. Each of us paid 120 yuan as lunch fees at school and received a card—not the kind used for meals in other schools, but a thin piece of paper. Every time we ate, a student union member would check it off. If you forgot it, well, don’t blame the school leaders if they aren’t lenient—no food would be served. Don’t talk nonsense; if you want to study here, you have to follow our rules.
Our canteen was tiny, barely enough for a few classes to take turns eating. So we queued in the basketball court outside the canteen to get our food one by one. Objectively speaking, the food was still edible every day—two dishes, one meat and one vegetable. Sometimes finding a little sand or stone inside wasn’t a big deal, but finding glass or nails wasn’t a miracle either. I continued to be a good student, as usual. My classmates were all very kind. Although there were only five boys, they were very lively, humorous, and talkative, perhaps with a touch of melancholy.
Freshman life should be relaxed and enjoyable, and vocational high school has even less pressure from the college entrance exam. So when I noticed that the school had many immature or incorrect principles, I was more accepting. Because I wanted every day to be new!
In this small vocational high school, my organizational skills and academic performance stood out, so naturally, I became the new publicity committee head of the student union during the re-election.
My freshman year passed as quickly and dazzlingly as all new beginnings. Now it’s autumn, Beijing’s golden season. The air in the western suburbs is so fresh, and the sky is always blue, like a piece of blue satin. I was known as a good student at school,?/td>