Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

In the afternoon at Jixian Elementary School, the light, filtered through thick clouds, seemed weak by the time it entered the classrooms. The old fluorescent tubes emitted a low hum, casting a pale white glow over every child's face.

The fourth period was Chinese class. Instead of immediately explaining the text, Ms. Fang Wenhui wrote a large character for "autumn" on the blackboard, then turned to face the students and said, "Students, please close your eyes and listen carefully."

Her voice has a unique penetrating power that can easily pierce through the dullness of the afternoon.

The students did as instructed and closed their eyes.

"The weather is getting cooler, the leaves are turning yellow, and one by one they are falling from the trees."

Teacher Fang's gentle voice slowly rang out. It was as if Cang Tianci could penetrate the wall and see the mountains of Xiqiao Village covered in autumn colors.

"Now, open your eyes." Fang Wenhui's gaze calmly swept across the entire class, finally landing on Tianci. "Cang Tianci, you come from the mountains. Tell me, how do the leaves fall in the mountains in autumn?"

Tianci froze for a moment, his throat tightening involuntarily. He stood up, struggling to search his meager vocabulary: "...No...it wasn't all of them that fell. First...it was...a few pieces...testing the waters...the wind...and as soon as it passed...rustling...the whole mountain...rustling..."

"Rustling!" Fang Wenhui immediately seized on this word, her voice shining with discovery. "Did everyone hear that? The textbook says 'pieces upon pieces,' which is what we see with our eyes. Tianci says 'rustling,' which is what we hear with our ears. With just this one word, he pulled us all into that autumn mountain where the wind whistles through." She turned around and forcefully wrote "pieces upon pieces" and "rustling" next to the character for "autumn."

"Learning to read and write is not about memorizing a few symbols, but about sharpening our eyes, awakening our ears, and allowing us to retain a vibrant feeling for this world." She looked at Tianci with gentle eyes, "It's good that you have this mountain in your heart."

At that moment, a strange warmth surged through his divinely bestowed limbs and bones. For the first time, the wind and mountains that silently existed in the background of his life were precisely illuminated by language and given dignity and value. He sat down with his head down, his ears slightly warm, but something was sprouting and budding in his heart.

The bell rang, and Tianci followed the crowd out of the classroom, the rustling wind and Teacher Fang's approving gaze still echoing in his mind. Before the warmth of those words had faded, the bell for the second period of the morning, math, pulled him into a battlefield that required absolute calm and clarity.

Math teacher Sun Yulan and Fang Wenhui had very different styles. She was serious and concise, her words like a boning scalpel. She wrote a word problem about "meeting problems" on the blackboard, and the complex relationships immediately plunged Tianci's mind into a quagmire. He struggled to calculate, but the result he obtained was far from the correct answer.

Teacher Sun walked over to him, her gaze lingering for a moment on his draft paper, which was covered in corrections and almost soaked in ink. She drew a circle in red pen on a key equation.

"The logic breaks down here. No matter how fast you calculated before, if you make a mistake at this step, you'll lose everything." She tapped the red circle heavily with the tip of her pen. "This is your 'hurdle.' If you don't thoroughly solidify it with your brain and effort, doing a hundred problems is a waste of time."

Tianci stared at the glaring red circle, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The feeling was so familiar, like that critical point when he was practicing his horse stance, his strength nearly exhausted, his legs trembling as if about to collapse. Giving up meant all his previous efforts were wasted; pushing through it felt like new roots would sprout beneath his feet. Teacher Sun's "solid foundation" and Coach Zhou's sharp rebuke in his mind, "Don't let your bones go weak," strangely intertwined at this moment.

He took a deep breath, no longer dwelling on the wrong answer, but instead focusing all his energy, as if fighting against the limits of his body, on the circled "hurdle," recalculating and re-analyzing it again and again. The scratching sound of the pen on the draft paper now sounded to him like the dull thud of a fist hitting a punching bag.

In the afternoon physical education class, Tianci walked to the playground with a weariness and focus that came from overcoming a difficult problem. That solid energy still lingered in his body, making him exceptionally perceptive of his surroundings.

During free time, the sky was still dark. Lin Wanqing sat quietly on the stone steps by the playground, looking after the students' clothes.

A sudden gust of wind blew a badminton shuttlecock near the stone steps. Lin Wanqing instinctively leaned over, stretched out her arm, and tried to hook it back with her cane.

Suddenly, Zhao Xiaohu, accompanied by his two followers, stood like a wall in front of her. During the morning's Chinese and math classes, this new, stuttering boy had repeatedly attracted the teacher's attention, which fueled a nameless anger within him. Now, seeing that Cang Tianci wasn't nearby, teasing his timid deskmate became the most direct way for Zhao Xiaohu to vent his frustration.

He stomped on the shuttlecock first, then exaggeratedly contorted his body, mimicking Lin Wanqing's movements, and shouted in a strange voice, "Lame Qing, you want it? Crawl over here and I'll give it to you!"

A cacophony of laughter erupted behind him.

Lin Wanqing's face instantly lost all color, turning as pale as a crumpled piece of paper. Her eyes filled with tears, and her frail body trembled violently with humiliation.

A figure rushed from the horizontal bar area with a whoosh—it was Cang Tianci. He had just finished a set of pull-ups, and the muscles in his bare arms were still twitching slightly. The scene before him instantly overlapped with Wang Yaowu's sinister grin as he pushed him into the deep water, and the iron-clad short stick he brandished at the temple fair. All the suppressed anger, the instinct to protect, and the accumulated humiliation converged into an explosive torrent, temporarily breaching the dam of words.

"Take it away!"

He said it. His voice wasn't loud, but it was as cold and hard as iron.

Zhao Xiaohu was momentarily stunned by this imposing manner, then became extremely embarrassed and angry: "A stutterer trying to be a hero? I won't..."

Before the word "move" could even be uttered, Tianci had already moved. His right hand moved like lightning, precisely grabbing Zhao Xiaohu's ankle—the foot that was stepping on the ball—and with a swift, twisting motion, he tripped Zhao Xiaohu. Zhao Xiaohu felt his lower body suddenly give way, and he fell heavily to the ground with a "thud," a splitting pain shooting through his tailbone.

He roared as he got up, his eyes bloodshot, like an enraged beast, and lunged forward, swinging his fists.

Tianci's gaze, however, calmed down at that moment. In his eyes, Zhao Xiaohu's movements were full of flaws. Instead of retreating, he advanced, blocked, grabbed Zhao Xiaohu's wrist, and his two right fingers, like steel cones, precisely pinched the numb tendons in Zhao Xiaohu's elbow.

"Ugh!" Zhao Xiaohu's half-grown cry of pain was stuck in his throat. His entire right arm was sore and numb, and he instantly lost all strength.

He was filled with shock and anger, and swung his left hand again, but Tianci restrained him just the same. Tianci twisted his arms behind his back, pressed his knee against his lower back, and pinned him to the spot, unable to move.

"Apologize!" Tianci's voice rang in his ears, calm and collected, yet more oppressive than any roar.

The entire playground was silent, all eyes focused on the tightly gripping hand and the cold face. Lin Wanqing forgot to breathe, staring blankly at the back of the figure that stood in front of her, seemingly shielding her from all storms.

Zhao Xiaohu struggled desperately, veins bulging on his forehead. Humiliation almost consumed him. He had never suffered such an unbearable disgrace, especially from someone he utterly despised. He wanted to curse, but the other man's strength and cold attitude instilled a strange fear in him. He gritted his teeth, forcing out a few words: "Cang Tianci…you…you just wait!"

"Apologize!" Tianci increased the force of his blow.

Zhao Xiaohu gasped for breath, and finally, under absolute pressure and unbearable pain, he roared at the ground with extreme resentment, "I'm...sorry!"

Tianci finally released his grip and pushed him away. Zhao Xiaohu staggered a few steps, then turned around abruptly. His eyes, which had been arrogant before, now held only deep resentment. He spat, glared at Tianci, and left the playground in a disheveled state.

Tianci bent down to pick up the badminton shuttlecock from the ground, turned around and walked to Lin Wanqing, handing it to her: "Take...take it."

Lin Wanqing glanced at him quickly, then lowered her head again, a blush rising on her pale face. She took the ball and whispered, "Th...thank you!"

The school bell rang, and Cang Tianci packed his schoolbag, ready to leave, but was stopped by class monitor Lin Ruoxi: "Cang Tianci, Teacher Fang wants to see you in the office."

Tianci felt a slight tightness in his chest, his heart pounding as he subconsciously thought of the conflict on the playground. He walked through the corridor to his office.

Ms. Fang was sitting at her desk, the dim sunlight streaming in from the window casting a soft glow on her figure.

"Tianci, come, sit here." Teacher Fang pointed to the chair next to her, a gentle smile on her face.

He sat down as instructed, placing his hands properly on his knees.

"I've heard about what happened on the playground. You stepped forward to protect your classmates; that shows integrity and courage."

Tianci looked up, somewhat surprised.

"But," Teacher Fang changed the subject, "Tianci, have you considered whether forcing the other party to bow down and apologize with resentment truly solves the problem? Or might it sow the seeds of an even bigger conflict?"

Tianci was stunned. At that moment, he only felt a surge of hot blood, a need to stop Zhao Xiaohu, a need to make him apologize, never thinking about what would happen "afterwards". Teacher Fang's question was like a drop of cold water falling into boiling oil, stirring up a violent commotion in his mind, which was still boiling with anger.

"Protecting the vulnerable requires a righteous heart; this is fundamental. But how do we 'act prudently' and how do we ensure that this 'righteous heart' generates a more lasting and powerful force, rather than just providing momentary pleasure? For example, if we encounter a similar situation again, besides resorting to violence, can we find a way to protect our classmates without escalating the conflict, and even win their respect? This requires greater wisdom to consider."

Teacher Fang's words flowed like a gentle stream, washing away the burning desire in Tianci's heart. He subconsciously lowered his head, his gaze falling on his hands resting on his knees. These were the hands he had just used to subdue his opponent, but Teacher Fang hoped they would one day be able to grasp something else.

Seeing that he seemed to understand, Teacher Fang's tone became even gentler: "Speaking of thinking and growth, Tianci, I must give you a good commendation."

She pointed to the workbook and continued, "The teacher has noticed that you have made great progress recently. There are fewer and fewer spelling mistakes in your homework, and you are more willing to speak up in class, and you speak very well. For example, today you used the word '簌簌地' very accurately and vividly."

Tianci lowered his head, feeling warmth in his heart.

"What makes me even happier is that I've noticed that when you encounter a problem you don't know how to solve, you never leave it blank like most students do; instead, you try your best to find a solution. This is an extremely excellent quality. Although your grades aren't ideal right now, I believe that with this excellent quality, you can definitely change." Also, I noticed that your dictionary is worn out, and luckily, I have an extra one here.

Teacher Fang took a brand-new Xinhua Dictionary from the drawer and handed it to him, saying, "Take this."

Tianci hesitated for a moment before taking it. It felt heavy in his hand, and the deep red plastic cover gleamed faintly in the dim light, exuding the fresh scent of ink.

He looked up at Teacher Fang, his eyes filled with gratitude.

Teacher Fang looked at him and said again, "Tianci, this is not charity, but a reward and expectation from your teacher. Words are not just symbols of language. They are also a tool that can help you express your feelings more accurately and powerfully—the sound of the wind in the mountains, your mother's figure under the lamp, and even some inexplicable grievances and injustices. It can help you better understand yourself and enable you to understand a wider world in the future."

Cang Tianci opened the dictionary to its first page, where eight elegant characters were neatly written: "Words come from the heart, and the pen follows the path."

Teacher Fang nodded slightly and smiled, "I hope this dictionary can become another crutch in your hand, helping you to walk steadily on the road of learning, and also helping you to walk a longer road in the future."

Cang Tianci held the brand-new dictionary tightly, its hard edges pressing against his chest, bringing an incredibly real tactile sensation, like a heavy promise and expectation.

He stood up, bowed deeply to Teacher Fang, and said, "Thank you... thank you... Teacher Fang!"

As he walked out of the office with the dictionary in his arms, the last rays of the setting sun pierced through the clouds, bathing the end of the corridor in a golden glow. He stopped, stroking the smooth cover once more, feeling its solid weight.

He recalled his elder brother's words: "Ask the Way...ask the heart, not the fist..."

He remembered Coach Zhou's hand on his waist, the red circle Teacher Sun had drawn, and the light in Teacher Fang's eyes when she said "rustling." They seemed to be connected by a thread. What that thread was, he couldn't say. But his hand holding the dictionary tightened even more.

He carried the dictionary and walked step by step towards the twilight. When he reached the end of the corridor, he suddenly stopped and looked back.

Teacher Fang was still sitting at her desk, her profile bathed in the dim light of the day, like a statue.

He didn't know that he would remember that profile for the rest of his life.

He had no idea what price he would pay for this impulsive act.