The ideals in their hearts

As time passed, the children at the private school grew increasingly familiar with Fang Yizhi. Unlike other teachers, he was not stiff and old-fashioned, but always gentle, refined, and courteous. Whenever a student asked a question, he answered patiently and without haste. He had an excellent temperament; even when students misbehaved in class, he rarely lost his temper.

His eyes were clear, a smile lingered at the corners of his mouth, and his warmth made being around him feel like basking in a spring breeze. In just a few short months, Fang Yizhi had become dearly loved by the children.

The sun shone brightly that day, streaming through the window lattice into the classroom. A wooden board three feet square hung on the wall, covered with white rice paper. Fang Yizhi raised his brush, wrist poised in the air, and wrote a large character for "aspiration" with rich, generous strokes. The character stood straight and square, vigorous and strong.

The students sat below, watching attentively. Fang Yizhi turned and said slowly, "To write is to give form to your aspirations! The ancients said that a single character reveals the heart, and that a person's writing reflects the person. Our aspirations lie hidden in our hearts and unfold at the tip of the brush. Everyone dreams of soaring into the clouds when they are young. What are your aspirations, or perhaps... your ideals?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the students began whispering among themselves, filling the classroom with a noisy buzz. Fang Yizhi held out both hands and pressed them downward, and the room gradually quieted.

"Everyone may tell us their aspirations or ideals. Who would like to go first? Zhu Biao, what is your aspiration or ideal for the future?" He lowered his head as he addressed a child seated in the front row.

The boy wore a brown headscarf and a straight-cut long robe, and his face was covered in pimples. Hearing Fang Yizhi call his name, he hurried to his feet. He tilted his head and thought seriously for a moment before saying rather shyly, "Teacher... in the future... I want... want... to be a bookkeeper like my father! My father works at the Hundred Herbs Hall in town. He earns six mace of silver every month and buys me lots of delicious food!"

"Very good. Becoming a bookkeeper is a fine aspiration!" Fang Yizhi nodded approvingly. Having received his teacher's praise, Zhu Biao sat down, beaming.

Fang Yizhi pointed to a boy seated at the very back. "Zhou Zhiheng, what is your aspiration or ideal?" Zhou Zhiheng was tall and imposing; when he stood, he was even half a head taller than Fang Yizhi. A faint fuzz covered his upper lip, though his round face still looked somewhat childish. He scratched his head. "Teacher, can an ideal be anything at all?"

"Yes! Anything you wish for in your heart and hope to achieve can be called an ideal. Speak freely!" Fang Yizhi encouraged him.

"All right, Teacher! My ideal is... um... for my family to buy a big residence in town, so we can all go and stay there for a few days every month. There's a Chang Family Tavern in town, and beside it is a place that sells bean-curd strips. They thread the strips onto bamboo skewers, roast them over charcoal, then sprinkle them with sesame seeds, pepper, and scallion oil. The smell is enough to knock you dead..."

At this point, Zhou Zhiheng closed his eyes and licked the corner of his mouth, savoring the memory. After a moment, he opened his eyes and continued, "Five skewers cost one copper coin, and I've already saved three coins. My greatest ideal is... to ask my father for a little more money... then buy thirty skewers and eat my fill!" The moment he finished, the entire class burst into laughter.

Fang Yizhi stood expressionless, momentarily at a loss for words. Then he raised his voice. "He An, what is your aspiration?" The laughter in the classroom gradually subsided.

He An stood up. "Teacher, my aspiration is... to become someone like National Preceptor Li!"

"Oh... why do you want to become someone like National Preceptor Li?" Fang Yizhi asked with a smile.

Many legends about National Preceptor Li Xingzhi circulated among the people of the Great Chen Empire, some so fantastic they bordered on the miraculous. Some claimed he could summon wind and rain and scatter beans that turned into soldiers. Others said he had long since attained the Dao and become an immortal, and had sent a flying sword a thousand miles to take the head of a corrupt official in some commandery. He An had presumably heard many such stories.

"I have an ideal: to become someone like National Preceptor Li-with a brush in hand, bring peace to all beneath heaven; with a sword on horseback, bring order to the world!" He An declared in a clear voice.

"Good! Very good! A child well worth teaching!" A gleam flashed in Fang Yizhi's eyes. He raised his head and asked, "Fan Dazhi, what is your aspiration?"

Dazhi stood up, his face reddening before he even spoke. After mumbling for a long while, he lowered his head. "Teacher... I... I haven't decided yet..."

Bitter melon vines had covered the southern window. Among the green leaves and brilliant blossoms hung tender green fruit, like little heads peeking out to steal a look at the students inside the private school.

A corner of a blue robe flashed among the greenery. An oriole sang merrily in the willow tree...

After school that afternoon, He An went home and cooked himself a bowl of porridge at the stove. Before his uncle He Kui left, he had sold the old horse and left some silver with Fan Youfu and Miao Feifei's mother, asking them to look after He An's meals and seasonal clothing. They had been neighbors for years, and both readily agreed. He An had just taken a bite of his coarse-grain bun when Fan Dazhi slipped inside with a grin, carrying a bowl of braised sheep's trotters...

After eating, the two lay on a pile of straw in the stable and chatted. He An asked Fan Dazhi why he had not answered the teacher's question that day. Fan Dazhi chuckled. "Your aspiration is to become someone like National Preceptor Li. Mine is to become someone who protects the national preceptor. A national preceptor needs someone to protect him, after all. But I was too embarrassed to say it. I was afraid they'd laugh at me!"

A trace of warmth had just risen in He An's heart when the fellow added, "Still, Zhou Zhiheng's aspiration was pretty good. It really suited my appetite. Those skewers he described sounded delicious. Just listening made my mouth water!"

He An laughed and scolded him. "Were you a hungry ghost in your last life? All you ever think about is food. Tell me honestly, what is your aspiration... hmm, or rather, your ideal?"

With a grass stem between his lips, Fan Dazhi pillowed his head on his hands and crossed one leg over the other. "My aspiration and ideal, huh? Heh... you'll jump out of your skin when you hear it!"

Imitating Fang Yizhi's tone, He An said, "Speak freely. I've washed my ears clean and am ready to listen!"

"My ideal is to become someone like Landowner Shen. You know Landowner Shen, right? The one in the neighboring village who owns a silk shop in town. Once, he ordered fifty jars of wine from my family, and my father filled an entire cart. I went with my father to deliver it. His gatehouse was enormous, and the spirit screen inside the gate was this big..."

Growing excited, Fan Dazhi sat up and spread his arms to demonstrate. Apparently deciding that was not big enough, he stretched them even farther. "His mansion has five courtyards, and the side rooms are packed full of grain. And... his family has cattle and horses, and they keep a whole flock of sheep. Oh, and Landowner Shen has two wives, too. Tsk, tsk... someday, I'll be someone like him. I'll live in a great mansion, have more grain than I could ever eat, raise lots of livestock, and marry... and..." As he spoke, he turned and noticed He An's displeased expression. He immediately gave a sheepish smile and fell silent.

"Dazhi, that isn't you. That shouldn't be the person you become. When Master Fang taught us mathematics, everyone got that difficult problem wrong except you. You're incredibly clever. The old teacher praised you for having skill even without studying. Soon we'll be going to the Knowledge and Practice Institute to take the test. As long as we can get in and study there, you'll surely accomplish great things someday!" He An looked steadily at Fan Dazhi and spoke earnestly.

He An's words left Fan Dazhi somewhat embarrassed. Scratching his head, he said, "Actually, there are lots of things I'm too lazy to learn or even think about. They take too much brainpower and give me a headache. I just want to eat and drink my fill, sleep, and dream. At least that won't make my head hurt. Maybe I'm just mud that can't be plastered onto a wall. Let me be a happy puddle of mud!"

With that, he flopped heavily onto the straw, limbs in the air. The impact sent dry grass and dust flying all over He An's head and face. He An gave him a light kick, and the two began tussling and laughing...

Unknown to them, in the room next door, an old man in a blue robe, with white hair and a white beard, was silently surveying everything inside. Looking at the dusty cobwebs on the beams, the crude table and stools, the worn bedding on the couch, and the chipped sickle in the corner, he murmured, "Foolish child, foolish child! You would rather hide your name and live in this remote place than come to your master. Do you know that I've spent all these years asking everywhere for news of you? I know you harbor resentment toward me, your master, but how could you know the painful reasons in my heart? Some things... one day, you will understand. You've misunderstood your master!"

He sighed deeply and turned his gaze toward the door. As the sounds of the two children's laughter and tussling reached him, his eyes softened. Stroking his beard, he murmured again, "Fang Yizhi's teaching follows no rigid mold and is full of fresh ideas. These two children are innocent, sincere, and exceptionally clever. Fine children indeed. Yet raw gold and uncut jade must still be carved and polished before they can become great treasures. The road ahead is long and far..."