Chapter 32: Offering Roses to Others

With the rousing, uplifting song "Born Stubborn," Huang Guolun swept away all resistance in Zhang Liang and his companions. Yet his aim was not to conquer these three young men with whom he had little personal connection, nor was it simply to instill patriotism in them. He hoped to use this song to inspire the youth of the new era.

The great Mr. Lu Xun once said, "May Chinese youth rid themselves of coldness, and strive only upward, heed not the words of those who abandon themselves. Those who can act, act; those who can speak, speak. Give one ounce of heat, emit one ray of light. Even if it is no more than a firefly, it can shine a little in the darkness. There is no need to wait for the torch."

Not needing to wait for the torch does not mean there are no torches in this world. Sometimes, music itself is a torch, capable of igniting the latent power within a person's heart.

This song, for example, is like a flicker of flame in a winter's chill, a beacon on a vast sea. Its presence cannot fundamentally change anything, yet it illuminates the stubborn strength within people's hearts.

Even in defeat, one must not yield easily, for the road ahead is long and winding. Every young person should press forward with tireless effort.

Spurred and infected by the song, Zhang Liang and his friends spent the next week practicing "Born Stubborn" with feverish dedication, neglecting sleep and food, training day and night with boiling blood.

They vowed to shine brilliantly at the school anniversary performance with this song.

Huang Guolun, too, fulfilled his guidance duties with utmost diligence. Every noon, he called the three students to the music room for an hour of special training, teaching them how to sing each word and phrase to perfection.

He personally recorded all the accompaniment tracks for them. Seeing their throats grow hoarse, he even spent his own money to buy the best throat lozenges, handling all logistics meticulously, so that the students could perform in their best form at the school celebration.

Although Huang Guolun was full of unprecedented enthusiasm this week—as if on stimulants—he still wasn’t as devoted as Teacher Meng Xiaoyun, who accompanied the talented students every evening, staying until eight or nine before leaving school.

Meng Xiaoyun’s programs were the highlight of the anniversary show, representing the school’s prestige. The school leaders attached great importance to them.

Seeing Meng Xiaoyun accompany the students so late every night, the leaders were naturally very satisfied with her. When promotion opportunities arose, they would certainly consider her first, not Huang Guolun, who left as soon as the bell rang every day.

Although Huang Guolun’s family had a notable background in education, his attitude of just coasting through his work was truly unpopular with the leadership.

Huang Guolun had no choice. He would have liked to work overtime in the evenings and give the Liu Guan Zhang trio more guidance, but he couldn’t help worrying about his mischievous son at home, left only in the care of his grandmother.

So, he never worked late, always rushing home at the first chance to “battle” with Huang Tao.

Now, with Bai Yao helping him share in the struggle with Huang Tao, Huang Guolun felt a bit more relaxed. But Bai Yao also needed his help with recording, and Huang Guokun was constantly urging him about the ending theme. Unable to be everywhere at once, Huang Guolun simply couldn’t take care of school affairs during off hours, preferring to focus on his own matters.

For five consecutive days this week, Bai Yao spent every evening at Purple Star Residence with Huang Guolun, helping care for Huang Tao and recording vocals.

In the studio, Bai Yao’s singing improved noticeably, though she was still far from the effect Huang Guolun wanted.

But her earnestness, professionalism, and steady progress gave Huang Guolun hope for great success.

At Bai Yao’s current pace, another week of recording should yield a version suitable for mixing. Then, with multiple takes, Huang Guolun could use software to splice together her best performances, hopefully producing a near-perfect track.

With her current skill, Bai Yao could never deliver a flawless, unedited demo in a single take like veteran singers renowned for their vocal prowess.

Even though she learned quickly and had natural musicality, it would take years of professional training to reach that level.

Huang Guolun kept close watch over Bai Yao’s recording, but as the weekend approached, the school needed to prepare the anniversary venue, and he was compelled to work overtime. His personal time had to be sacrificed for school duties.

On Saturday morning, Huang Guolun planned to drive Bai Yao and Huang Tao to the villa in the northern suburb, then return to school for overtime.

Grandma Zhou had already left for the villa the day before due to family matters, and before leaving, she reminded Huang Guolun to make sure Bai Yao and Huang Tao were sent to the villa together over the weekend.

After spending some time with Bai Yao, Grandma Zhou grew very fond of the scholarly young woman, especially seeing how Bai Yao could manage Huang Tao, and impart useful knowledge to him through her own example. Grandma Zhou’s affection for Bai Yao only deepened.

Bai Yao was initially embarrassed to spend the weekend at Huang Guolun’s family villa with his elders.

Having grown up without parents, raised only by her grandfather, Bai Yao had little concept of family.

She was even somewhat resistant to the thick atmosphere of familial affection; every time she saw other families reunited and happy, she felt a subtle sadness and sense of defeat.

But since she was paid to tutor Huang Tao, and Huang Guolun was so warm and kind to her, Bai Yao couldn’t refuse the invitation to meet more of the Huang family’s elders at the villa, so she forced herself to experience the warmth of another family.

Learning she’d spend a night at the northern villa, and wanting to make the most of her time, Bai Yao packed some college-level mathematics textbooks to study her university courses.

In fact, she had long been studying undergraduate math materials.

High school math was far too easy for her; she’d finished it all by junior high.

Now, she spent her spare time on university mathematics, having completed courses like Linear Algebra, Analytic Geometry, Real Analysis, Ordinary Differential Equations, Fourier Series and Partial Differential Equations, Functional Analysis, and so on.

She was now tackling advanced third- and fourth-year math courses.

Her goal was to complete all these by the end of the year, so she could ghostwrite theses for college students.

University math theses sold for extremely high prices online—an excellent paper, potentially publishable in a journal, could fetch tens of thousands or more.

Bai Yao’s relentless study of mathematics was for one reason only: to quickly earn money by selling papers, and to afford a proper burial for her grandfather.

For the past year, Bai Yao had worked many jobs to earn money. Of all the jobs, singing was the most lucrative, but even at her best, she only made seven or eight hundred a week, and it took a lot of rehearsal time.

After more than a year, she’d saved just over thirty thousand, still far from the ten thousand needed for her grandfather’s burial plot.

But now, with more free time, she could devote herself to mathematics while caring for Huang Tao. Once she mastered college math, she could quickly amass wealth by selling papers, aiming to earn enough for her grandfather’s burial before next year’s graduation season.

"Grandpa, please bear with me a little longer. I’ll buy you the best resting place, so you can truly enjoy peace..."

While Bai Yao was upstairs organizing her math books, Huang Guolun had already taken Huang Tao outside to wait for her downstairs.

The father and son had lived in Bell Alley for a long time, and were familiar with the neighbors.

Just then, a few children from Building 6 were playing by the flower bed.

Huang Guolun told Huang Tao to play with the neighborhood kids while he made a call to Huang Guokun to discuss progress on the soundtrack.

Huang Tao, holding the new Transformer toy his grandmother had just bought him, walked over to a chubby boy playing with a shot put.

This chubby boy was two years older than Huang Tao, already in elementary school, and was Grandma Li’s grandson from Building 6, nicknamed "Fatty Two."

Huang Tao greeted him, "Fatty Two, are you playing alone?"

Fatty Two's eyes glazed over with envy when he saw Huang Tao's Transformer, staring intently as he asked, "Tao, you've got a new toy again?"

"Yeah, my grandma just bought it for me, the latest Megatron!"

Huang Tao showed off, manipulating the Transformer before Fatty Two.

"So cool! Does it transform?"

"Of course! If it doesn’t transform, how can it be a Transformer?"

With nimble hands, Huang Tao demonstrated the transformation for Fatty Two.

Fatty Two watched, almost drooling, and asked, "Can I play with it?"

It was a new toy, and Huang Tao was reluctant, frowning as he said, "It’s new—what if you break it? Play with your own."

"I don’t have a Transformer."

"Then get your dad to buy one."

"My dad won’t buy me one."

"Why not?"

"He says I have to break my old toy before he'll get me a new one."

"Then hurry up and break your old toy!" Huang Tao offered a dubious solution.

Fatty Two burst into tears, holding up his battered shot put, “This big iron ball is my old toy—I've been playing with it for three years and it still won’t break.”

Huang Tao was amazed. “Your dad’s really stingy!”

"Tao, teach me how to break this big iron ball!”

Huang Tao thought hard, but had to admit, “I don’t think this iron ball can be broken.”

“Wah!”

Fatty Two cried even harder.

With a sympathetic sigh, Huang Tao looked at his Transformer, then at Fatty Two’s miserable face. Gritting his teeth, he handed Megatron to Fatty Two, turning his chubby face away and squeezing his eyes shut. “Fatty Two, I’ll give you Megatron! My grandpa always said, ‘A rose given leaves fragrance in the hand!’ Once you have it, hurry up and disappear so I don’t smell the fragrance—otherwise I might take it back!”

Before Huang Tao finished, Fatty Two snatched the Transformer and ran, forgetting his shot put. From a distance he called back, “Thanks, Tao! When I have money, I’ll buy you a bagged popsicle!”

The bagged popsicle from Arctic Ocean was the king of ice cream for Beijing kids, its pink color conjuring up thoughts of strawberries, cherries, grapes—milk and fruit scents blended together, limited only by imagination.

Thinking of the popsicle, Huang Tao swallowed hard with his eyes shut. Only when Fatty Two’s voice faded did he open his eyes.

He looked at the shot put on the ground, and at his empty hands where Megatron had been, feeling as if someone had snatched away his meat—heartache!

But soon, he looked at the shot put and smiled, no longer dwelling on his loss.

Despite his young age, Huang Tao was remarkably insightful.

To him, people are like containers—when you fill up with happiness, there’s less room for gloom.

He didn’t want to be gloomy, so he always made himself laugh.

Kicking aside Fatty Two’s shot put, Huang Tao forgot about the Transformer and ran over to watch a boy and girl playing chess.

Huang Guolun finished his call and approached, having witnessed Huang Tao’s generous act. He approvingly patted Huang Tao’s head, not mentioning the toy again to spare him any regret.

“Come on, I’ll buy you an ice pop,” Huang Guolun said, lenient for once, intending to reward Huang Tao.

Huang Tao was startled, asking anxiously, “What bad thing did you do? Why are you bribing me? Don’t tell me you stole my cake again!”

“Why would I steal your cake? You silly child!”

Seeing the neighbors watching, Huang Guolun was embarrassed, whispering, “It’s just a reward—if you don’t want it, never mind.”

“Eat, eat, eat, eat, eat! I want a bagged popsicle!”

Thrilled, Huang Tao pulled on Huang Guolun’s hand, eager to buy ice cream without delay.

“You’re really pushing your luck.”

Laughing, Huang Guolun took Huang Tao to buy the treat.

When they returned, Huang Tao carried a big pink bag of popsicles, eating as he walked back to the flower bed to watch the chess game.

Huang Guolun stopped him, “Don’t bother watching—they don’t know how to play. You won’t learn anything. The boy might know a bit—he knows the horse moves in an L, and the elephant moves diagonally. But the little girl just moves randomly, wherever she wants.”

Huang Tao gave Huang Guolun a meaningful look and sighed, “You think I’m watching the chess? I’m watching how the boy entertains the girl. Even a five-year-old boy knows how. How come you’re over thirty and still clueless? Now I know why you can’t find me a new mom—you don’t know how to make girls happy.”

“As if you know!”

Huang Guolun was speechless, lightly tapping Huang Tao’s head.

Huang Tao spoke solemnly, “I probably know better than you. Since you bought me a popsicle, I’ll teach you a trick for making girls happy today.”

Just then, Bai Yao strode out from the entrance, canvas bag slung over her shoulder.

Huang Tao tossed a line to Huang Guolun, “Watch and learn!”

Clutching his bag of popsicles, he scampered off toward Bai Yao.