Shangguan Dandan
After everyone had left and things quieted down, Liu Chang'an took a broom and cleaned the area in front of the door. The broom left sparse marks on the ground, some of which intersected, like a chessboard carved by a celestial being on a rock under a deep mountain pine.
Liu Chang'an swept the fallen leaves and firecracker debris together and piled them up, leaving a clearing for the banquet tomorrow.
Looking up, there are two six-story buildings on the left and right, with a few lights scattered around. Because the glass in the windows is quite old, the lights look a bit more dim and yellowish than those in other newly built residential areas, which is a feeling that many people miss, just like the "little orange lamp" in the textbook.
Liu Chang'an went back to his room to take a shower.
As night deepened and the outside became quieter, Liu Chang'an, having written a letter, took it to the transport vehicle.
"Dan Dan, all is well." Liu Chang'an waved towards the coffin. "As the saying goes, a teacher for a day is a father for life. I have taught you for a long time, firstly to make you understand that times change and things in the world change, and secondly to even out the seniority."
The coffin, of course, ignored him.
Liu Chang'an didn't care about the other party's reaction. Since he had said so, this was the effect he wanted, and the other party's reaction was not important.
"It is my right as a teacher to call your name. I hope you don't mind. As we spend more time together, I'll remember more and more of the little things we did together. You might be glad that, besides yourself, I'm the only person in the world who remembers your name. Dan Dan, Dan Dan, Dan Dan." Liu Chang'an called her three times, but she seemed hesitant to respond.
"Today's lecture will begin with a recent event: the Forbidden City in Taiwan is sending what is considered the second-best calligraphy work in the world, a running script, to Japan for its first exhibition." Liu Chang'an resumed his usual lecturing style, which was consistent with his teaching. Today's topic was modern history, but he could just pick any topic to start with... he could ramble on about anything, after all.
"Since there's a second best in the world, you'll surely ask me who's the best? The best running script in the world is undoubtedly Wang Xizhi's 'Orchid Pavilion Preface,' but currently only a Tang Dynasty copy exists. If we're really being precise, Yan Zhenqing's 'Draft of a Requiem to My Nephew,' which is second best in the world, is the best... Such a treasure, if it were kept in a museum on the mainland, would definitely be a national treasure, belonging to the category of treasures that absolutely cannot be sent abroad for exhibition."
Liu Chang'an smiled and continued, "Ironically, the people on the Taiwan are truly shameless. They probably can't read or understand history. If you were to examine the spirit and essence of the 'Draft of a Requiem to My Nephew' closely, how could they have the audacity to send it to Japan? They should have some shame. They should kneel before this book and weep three buckets of blood. Traitorous officials did not come to the rescue, the isolated city was besieged, fathers were captured and sons died, the nest was overturned and the eggs were broken... In those days, more than thirty members of the Yan family died by the saw and the knife, the scene was beyond human comprehension. Yan Zhenqing searched for the remains of his family members and only found a foot and a skull. He was extremely grieved and wrote this 'Draft of a Requiem to My Nephew'."
Liu Chang'an's expression hardened. "Dan Dan, you must be wondering why Taiwan isn't qualified to collect this 'Draft of a Requiem to My Nephew'. Well, that goes back to Zhu Yuanzhang, one of the most legitimate rulers of the country in history. You probably admire him too. Twenty years ago, I visited his tomb to pay my respects. On the way, I met an elder who said that with these pillars of the Han people guarding this beautiful land, one always feels that the spirit of the nation will not be completely lost..."
Liu Chang'an placed his copy of the "Draft of a Requiem to My Nephew" on the coffin and began to recount the tragic history.
After finishing his lecture, Liu Chang'an habitually reached for his thermos, only to realize that this was a habit he had maintained for over twenty years, and he no longer had a thermos with him.
"I really want some ice-cold beer and chilled crayfish." After finishing his lecture, Liu Chang'an wondered how Xu Zhancheng and Ren Changhong were doing. He guessed they were still just coasting along at Xiangtan University, but they probably wouldn't have the chance to teach him anymore, given their seniority.
Not necessarily. Some senior professors just enjoy teaching, and whether the school arranges it or not depends on their own wishes.
"Dan Dan, you must have never eaten chilled crayfish before," Liu Chang'an said, tapping the coffin. "But you were of noble birth. I remember those summers were quite hot. Every summer, the Shangguan Family's ice-appreciation banquet was very famous. Even the princes and grandsons of the emperor were envious. After all, many people could only wait for the Youguan Pavilion to open and bring some back in ice chests, but your Shangguan Family had its own mountain of ice."
Then Liu Chang'an talked about how the use of ice in modern China was once monopolized by foreign countries. After all, these obscure historical facts were not covered in the regular history lessons just now.
Can you shut up now?
An angry and irritated voice rang out.
Liu Chang'an recognized that voice; it was the voice Shangguan Dandan spoke to him when the coffin was opened that day.
Liu Chang'an looked around to make sure he was alone in the carriage, and there were no announcements or loudspeakers or anything like that, before his gaze fell on the coffin.
"Dan Dan, is that you?" Liu Chang'an said happily. After teaching so many classes, she finally received some response, which proved that her lectures were effective and that she could indeed hear him.
There was no response to this question, but Liu Chang'an didn't mind.
"But how did your voice, which sounds like you're speaking in an open space, come through? Metals, as atomically bonded crystals, contain many freely moving electrons, resulting in low resistance and fast sound transmission. But I've never heard of using a coffin lid to transmit sound." Liu Chang'an looked thoughtful.
"So you're conscious now? You're conscious, yet you're willing to lie in this dark, cramped coffin, unwilling to come out? This reminds me of the days I spent wandering around the Mausoleum of the First Qin Emperor, but that place was much larger and quite interesting. I even met a craftsman who had miraculously survived; he was hoping I could take him out, but unfortunately, he died before I could open a passage..."
Liu Chang'an suddenly remembered something and stopped talking.
"Oh, right, you used to run back to the coffin whenever you saw me, and just now you told me to shut up. I guess I was just being presumptuous. It seems you have no interest in listening to me. Farewell." Liu Chang'an cupped his hands in farewell and left.
Liu Chang'an felt somewhat ashamed, because he had always been a very self-aware person, but today he seemed to have failed to consider that Shangguan Dandan harbored deep resentment towards him, and his old face flushed slightly.
Liu Chang'an went back to sleep.
When Liu Chang'an woke up in the morning, he didn't care about Shangguan Dandan's attitude towards him last night. He picked up the hen, intending to give it to her, but then he thought that it was a hen raised by Old Lady Liu herself, and it might taste better. He couldn't waste it, so he decided to wait until he went to the market and buy her any chicken he could find.
I'm overjoyed to discover that I've finally become a Level 2 author! I have a place on Qidian now, no longer a Level 1 newbie. Level 2 is practically a master, right?