The Fiery Era: Starting from Longxugou

"Last lesson we learned about element symbols and chemical formulas. This lesson we will learn about chemical formulas..."

As Hu Chengzhi was lecturing, he noticed someone dozing off. He frowned slightly, pinched his knuckles, and the chalk in his hand snapped in two with a "crack."

With a casual toss, the chalk landed precisely on the student's head, as if it had eyes.

Zhao Shi'an was startled by the sudden attack and stood up abruptly. He was completely stunned when he saw what was happening in front of him.

The classroom was drab and gray, with earthen-yellow walls and rows of wooden tables and benches—all unfamiliar surroundings.

Looking up, I saw a middle-aged man standing on the platform, wearing a dark gray Zhongshan suit with the collar buttoned up neatly, blue cloth trousers, and black cloth shoes. He had a very serious expression.

Upon seeing this person, Zhao Shi'an felt inexplicably frightened. Before he could speak, the person spoke first.

"Zhao Shi'an, what are the chemical formulas for oxygen and water?"

"O₂ and H₂O!"

Zhao Shi'an instinctively gave the answer.

What is the chemical equation for the electrolysis of water?

Hu Chengzhi's expression softened considerably upon hearing this, and he posed another question.

"When twice the amount of water is electrified, it produces twice the amount of hydrogen and once the amount of oxygen!"

Zhao Shi'an answered again, but his doubts only grew. This was not the modern world he was familiar with. Looking at the scene before him, he knew that he had traveled through time.

"Good answer, sit down! From now on, if you feel sleepy, stand up! You all too! Okay, let's continue the lesson!"

After Hu Chengzhi finished speaking, he gestured for Zhao Shi'an to sit down and used this as an example to warn the other students before continuing his lecture.

"Okay, teacher!"

Zhao Shi'an agreed and sat down, flipping through the textbook in front of him. But before he could even read the book, the brown scabs on the back of his hand caught his eye.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the back of his hand was swollen and thick, almost twice the thickness of a normal hand, with brown scabs on it. A sticky, pale yellow liquid was oozing from the open wound, and it felt sticky to the touch. He also experienced intermittent itching on his hand.

What is this? Chilblains?

Upon recognizing what was in his hand, Zhao Shi'an was greatly surprised.

He had chilblains on his hands when he was a child and knew how terrible they were. When they itched, he couldn't help but scratch the scabs. The scabs would fall off, the wounds would ooze pus, and then more scabs would form. When his hands itched, he would scratch them again, and so on, until the weather warmed up and the chilblains temporarily disappeared, only to reappear the following year.

Once you get frostbite, it can take one or two years to heal.

I don't remember him having frostbite for over twenty years, but I never expected to see it again today.

After a moment of reflection, Zhao Shi'an looked at his clothes again.

The black cotton-padded jacket he wore was stiff and heavy, with the cotton wadding pressed into a hard, clumped mass. The collar and cuffs were worn smooth and black, clearly indicating that it had been patched and mended over time.

He wore loose, old cotton trousers with the cuffs tightly bound with strips of cloth, somewhat like ancient leg wraps. He wore cotton shoes with thin soles and three or four holes patched in the uppers, all caused by his big toe.

Seeing his own attire, Zhao Shi'an became even more curious about which era he had come to.

With this in mind, he listened to the lecture while observing his surroundings.

The classroom was filled with the pungent smell of old wood, dust, soot, and ink. I sneezed twice before I calmed down.

The classroom was much smaller than he remembered, estimated to be seven or eight meters long and five or six meters wide, about a third smaller than a typical classroom.

The classroom was packed with students, the aisles were so narrow that you could only pass sideways, the desks were all double desks, the gray paint worn down to reveal the light yellow wood underneath, the tabletops were covered with scratches, knife marks and ink stains polished to a shine.

We sat on a long wooden bench without a backrest. The bench was a bit loose and creaked when we moved.

Directly in front of you is a cement blackboard painted black, with a portrait of Chairman Mao above it and eight large red characters on either side that read "Study hard and make progress every day".

The classroom windows were all small wooden lattice windows with broken glass in the lattice. The glass was a bit greenish, and when the wind blew, it would seep in through the gaps, which was very refreshing.

Two old-fashioned light bulbs hung overhead; it was daytime, and the classroom lights were off.

There was a coal stove in the back corner, the fire burning brightly, with an aluminum kettle sitting on it, constantly hissing. Near the kettle, a lot of sweet potatoes were roasting. A section of blackened iron chimney stretched out of the window. This stove brought some warmth to the classroom.

After looking around, Zhao Shi'an couldn't help but sigh at how harsh the conditions were.

After a moment of reflection, fearing that the teacher would target him again, he quickly looked intently at the blackboard.

Seeing the teacher's notes on the blackboard, Zhao Shi'an had even more questions.

Afraid of misreading, he rubbed his eyes and carefully watched the teacher write on the blackboard.

Looking from Zhao Shi'an's direction, he saw the teacher writing the key points to remember from the previous lesson and the key content of this lesson on the blackboard.

What puzzled him was that the teacher was writing in traditional Chinese characters. Not only were they traditional characters, but the teacher was also writing them from top to bottom and from right to left.

Upon seeing this writing format, Zhao Shi'an's heart sank.

Traditional Chinese characters, written vertically—what era has he arrived in?

With a puzzled look on his face, Zhao Shi'an looked up at the portraits of some young Chairman Mao on the blackboard and wondered if he had traveled back to the time when the country had just been founded!

After this thought popped into his head, he quickly picked up the book and started reading, only to find that the chemistry book was also in traditional Chinese characters and vertical format.

Turning to the cover, Zhao Shi'an found that the book was a yellowish-brown hard cover with the words "Senior High School Chemistry Textbook, Volume 1" clearly written on it.

The text was also in traditional Chinese characters. Unconvinced, he opened the cover and saw that the "Publisher's Note" on the title page was also in traditional Chinese characters and vertical format. He quickly browsed through the "Publisher's Note" and found that the mathematics and chemistry textbooks were compiled based on the Soviet textbooks by Levchenko. The lower left corner was signed "Published by People's Education Press" and the date was May 28, 1952.

Upon seeing the signature, Zhao Shi'an suddenly realized that he had traveled back to the 1950s.

As he reached middle age and looked back on his journey, he had fantasized more than once about waking up one day and returning to his student days to create an era that belonged to him.

He never expected it to come true today. But even though it came true, he never expected it to come so early, more than seventy years earlier than expected.

He used to fantasize about going back to high school, thinking he could become a winner in life by blindly betting on Bitcoin. He even looked up how to buy Bitcoin. Now it's all useless. By the time he actually lives to the present day, he'll be half-buried in the ground.

What's gratifying is that I went straight from grandson to grandfather, a leap of three generations!

Just as he was lost in thought, a sharp pain came, and memories flooded back. Zhao Shi'an then realized that he had arrived in 1954.

Upon learning the exact time, he was both happy and worried. He was happy because they were facing the greatest era dividend since the founding of the People's Republic of China. In an era where the illiteracy rate was as high as 80%, as long as one could read, one could live a good life. Effort would be rewarded, and hard work would be visible. This was the best of times!

What I'm worried about is the future turmoil and the difficult period that is about to begin!