One of the first New Concept Essays was about teacher-student love.

Transparent Wish, I quite like it

Transparent Wish

Author: Li Jie

What is the color of life? Is it red—a burst of passion? Is it blue—a hint of melancholy? Or is it black - representing the desert of memory, where everything has been covered with dust and seems to be frozen without any life; or is it white - the unknown future, the pen in the hand is swaying freely on this white... I don't know , my life is full of white and black, I can’t tell where I am. Wherever there is a way forward, there is also a way out! I am just a little snail, carrying my confusion and past, crawling here tirelessly, not asking for results, only looking for color. Perhaps, before the dew has dried tomorrow morning, my life will have passed away...

It has been more than a month since I entered Women's University. After attending the required classes every day, I would go back to the dormitory with my lecture under my arm. , only when you go back at this time can you be quiet and peaceful. The dormitory is in a corner of the campus, Building No. 5. If an outsider comes to look for Building No. 5, he or she will have to look for it for a while. Who would have thought that the room behind the four beautiful dormitories that used to be filled with debris was the No. 5 dormitory? It’s also because the school recruits too many science students. There are not enough dormitories, so we are sent to study literature to "live" in this kind of place. The people in Building 1 are all "relatives of the emperor", the principals, deans... the daughters and ladies of a certain relative, who can't afford to offend them; the people in Buildings 2 and 3 are economic students who are full of management ideas. La, economy, they are the future upper-class people and white-collar workers; our Building No. 5 is full of a group of people who are called "literary madmen" and "history madmen" outside. They are the most despised by the academic ladies. However, People like us can also be called "collars" - ordinary blue-collar people who will live a very poor life in the future. People may not know it, but there are two types of people in Building No. 5. One is the "historical madman" who may be able to achieve great results in the future. After all, it is not enough to call oneself a "historian" just by relying on a pair of glasses; Rely on diploma. How many people are chasing a diploma and how many are snatching it away! Some people dismiss it, but many students have wasted so many nights on it that could have been spent watching TV series... It's worth it! A "literary lunatic" can only settle for second place, after all! These days, there are more people writing books than reading books, such as Lu Xun, Rou Shi, Liu Yong, Jia Pingwa... They only come out every few thousand years, how can they be found among us so easily? It’s just self-deception. The second-class people in Building 5 admitted themselves. Our room is only 12 square meters, with four beds (fortunately not bunk beds) and two desks by the window (there are no my things on them). It is usually quiet from 3:30 to 5:30 in the afternoon. Yes, I can walk around by myself, but the place is not too small. I took these two hours to read some books, write down a few entries in my diary, prepare and eat as fast as possible, and then use the last few minutes to take a shower. If my calculations were correct, when I pushed open the bedroom door with wet hair and slippers on, the three young historians would have been sitting on the edge of the bed, smoking heavily and sipping coffee with milk. I'm afraid of smelling cigarette smoke - my lungs don't want to retire early; I don't want to argue with them - they know more about the Opium War than I know myself; I'm even more afraid that they will say I'm old-fashioned and don't understand "Moore". I also hate the smell of the coffee they brew, the superiority - do "historians" have to sit on the bed with green eyes and chat in the middle of the night? Medically, this is called "insomnia" - neurasthenia? Under the watchful eyes of their twelve eyes (six of which were invisible), I put on airtight sneakers (when they were chatting at night, I would hang my freshly washed feet out of the quilt to dry them, in order to keep them from talking—— Even if you want to say something, you may not be able to think of the words), then clip the lecture notes and say, "I'm studying in the evening, don't close the door!" Finally, go around from the third floor to the first floor and go out.

It takes about five minutes from the dormitory to the teaching building. I choose different ways to go to the teaching building on sunny days and rainy days. If it is sunny, I will stand in front of the dormitory building for a short while, and most of the time I can see the sunset. At this time, the sky was a pale blood color, and the sun was very big, round, and golden. No wonder Li Qingzhao once wrote the words "The setting sun melts gold, and the dusk clouds merge together." This sigh often hurts my heart. I remember that when I first entered the school, it was October, and the wind in front of the dormitory door was very refreshing. After standing there for a long time, people moved away with the wind; now, it is almost December, and a light coolness has hit my forehead. There is a path in front of the dormitory door. Both sides of the path are covered with many green and inconspicuous grasses. Every time the wind blows, it emits a peculiar fragrance. I heard that it is called vanilla and can be added to ice cream. I remember once, when I pulled out a few roots, I suddenly saw a mist of water in front of my eyes, and I was dizzy with the fragrance, although the fragrance was very light. The trail leads to a small lake about 100 meters long. After counting the herbs, you will see this small lake. Possibly due to excess nitrogen-containing nutrients, the pond was covered with duckweeds and many unknown ferns, and there was no trace of water underneath. I remember the day I first entered the school, I forgot to put on my contact lenses and thought it was a lawn. I was so happy that I ran straight towards it, but I was about to fall into it within a few steps. Fortunately, a school guard stopped me and said that there was a pond. Otherwise I would have said good-bye! There is a stone table next to the pond, surrounded by four stone chairs. When the sun is about to set, the setting sun casts its light on the stone table. I can't help but sit by the pond and soak in the faint fragrance. I can almost forget all the unpleasant scenes in the dormitory with my roommates. Only here, I just forgot about my worries.

After sitting for a while, walk straight up another path. After passing three teaching buildings, there is the fourth one! If it's a rainy day, I won't go around in circles and go straight to the teaching building. However, I had to walk through the four dormitory buildings with a straight face, through the playground, through the movie hall, and then through the corridor. This walk took a solid five minutes.

The teaching building has three floors, and twenty-seven girls from our Chinese Department occupy the lecture theater on the second floor. I'm used to sitting in the first row, maybe because I had bad eyesight and was afraid of being distracted.

"Oh no, no!" I jumped up from the bed, raised my hand and looked at my watch. I had missed breakfast. I washed up as fast as I could in my life and then ran to the classroom. Not bad, not bad, sir hasn’t come yet. I found a seat, sat down immediately, and then thought about last night's dream again. I don’t know how many times I have dreamed about a house. This house faces north and south. There is a spacious patio at the entrance, and behind it is the reception hall. Through the hall is a long and narrow walkway, which is connected to a small patio. Behind the patio There are three rooms, but I can't see the one facing south. Facing south? room? I vaguely remember the dark door. Is it number 11 or 17 on the door? Can’t remember clearly! I will remember it carefully next time... Just as I was thinking about it, Mr. Zheng walked in. Mr. Zheng's name is Zheng Liji. He is lean and lean, only about 1.7 meters tall. I always thought he was a strange person: his hair was only three or four inches long and stood on end; he had a majestic face, he didn't smile often, and his eyes were deep behind the lenses. One of his suits seemed to be old, washed and faded, but still very clean. Mr. Zheng was a left-behind man, and his wife went to Hong Kong alone, and there was almost no news. However, historians found out that the marriage between Mr. Zheng and his wife was arranged by their parents (they were family friends!), and the two acted together for two years. Then Mrs. Zheng gave birth to a son, left her husband with her, and flew to Hong Kong—as expected of them, they were studying history! As a result, we "lunatics" have more sympathy for Mr. Zheng.

"Dear students," Mr. Zheng opened the handout, "This is the seventh page. Please take it out," he said, turning around and writing the words "Chen Duxiu" on the blackboard. ah! My heart went cold. I hated those so-called generals of the "May Fourth Period" who only said things that didn't mean what they said.

So I hung up my neck and suddenly felt hungry - I forgot breakfast!

"Classmate Li Jingsong, Li Jingsong!"