Sunflower -- Su Tong's Works Series

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 what she thought of Xiang Weiwei, and you’ll know after a while. At the 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 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 counselor duties, 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, shy girl 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 their lunch boxes, 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 covered her mouth while laughing, I heard her boyish, hoarse, and unrestrained laughter. I saw her run 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 wasn’t very dedicated to my job. In fact, I was more suited to studying or fooling around with the students rather than being their counselor. But one day, Xiang Weiwei came to my door, saying she wanted to talk about her scholarship. She knocked and entered my dorm, her eyes not looking at me. As she used a comb to brush her freshly washed hair from top to bottom, she stared 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 aren’t bad. 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 married, her husband being the vocal music teacher in the music department. Why did she call her a spinster? I really wanted to ask, but out of respect, I didn’t want to pry into such matters. So I said, “I’ll ask in the department 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, she suddenly smiled and said, “Forget it, forget it. Just consider it my unreasonable behavior. Don’t ask in the department. Anyway, I don’t care about that little bit of money.” I watched her walk toward the door, confused. Then, as if she suddenly remembered something, she turned back and asked, “Do you like playing poker?” I answered casually, “As long as it’s exciting.” Xiang Weiwei’s eyes lit up instantly. I heard her say excitedly, “It’s exciting! We’ll bet on meal tickets!”