C6 Mr Xue

Zhou Qian swiftly prepared the meal and came out with a beaming smile, calling out, "Jue, dinner's ready! Let's eat first."

"Okay, Mrs. Zhou, I'll serve myself some rice!"

Zhou Qian felt a wave of relief and affectionately touched Jue's head, smiling as she passed her the rice spoon. "You've really grown up, Jue. Did you finish your homework today?"

Ann Jue paused, realizing she wasn't sure if she had completed her homework. "I'll check after we eat. There might be some left to do."

Zhou Qian let her serve the rice while she brought the rest of the dishes to the table, saying, "You've always been good with your schoolwork. Mr. Xue from your school even inquired about you yesterday. He's getting on in years and mentioned you're the last student he's teaching. I think he might be ill. If you're free this afternoon, go see him. Here's five yuan; use it to buy some fruit for Mr. Xue!"

"Okay!" Ann Jue took the money, her mind suddenly swirling with shock. She remembered—wasn't September 21, 1992, the day Mr. Xue died in a car accident?

The memory dampened her appetite, but she hurriedly finished her meal. Once Zhou Qian had tidied up and left for work, Ann Jue slung her backpack over her shoulder, hung the key around her neck, and dashed out the door.

Outside, she smacked her forehead in frustration. Where did Mr. Xue live? She had completely forgotten!

Sweating with anxiety and unsure of what to do next, she spotted a familiar-looking child in the yard and learned from them where Mr. Xue lived. His home was in the neighborhood across from hers, in an old community built in the 1960s. Most of the buildings were just three stories high, with eight families per floor, each apartment roughly 50 square meters in size.

Since the age of six, Ann Jue had been studying calligraphy with Mr. Xue. Her family was poor, so he only charged her for the basic materials and waived the tuition fee. Back then, teachers in the county didn't earn much. Talented individuals like Mr. Xue often had side jobs, but he was dedicated to teaching and mentoring, intent on fostering genuine talent.

Ann Jue was well aware that Mr. Xue held her in high regard, which motivated her to work diligently. Despite her efforts, she had limited natural talent for calligraphy, often hearing Mr. Xue sigh softly as he examined her work. His death had dealt her a severe blow, leading her to abandon her calligraphy studies. Now, having been given a second chance at life, she realized just how much her earlier surrender had disappointed him.

Without even stopping to buy an apple, she dashed off to Mr. Xue's house.

"Mr. Xue, Mr. Xue! Are you there?" Ann Jue pounded on the door with vigor, yet there was no reply for quite some time.

What to do? Had Mr. Xue stepped out?

Remembering that the car accident she recalled had occurred near the market, Ann Jue quickly descended the stairs and sprinted toward the market several hundred meters away. She had always treated Mr. Xue like a grandfather, charmingly coaxing him into giving her books and ink. As a child, she didn't appreciate their worth, carelessly wasting many, only to discover years later that Mr. Xue had bestowed upon her valuable antiques. Among these treasures was a piece of ink from the Qianlong era, perfectly preserved. Without her self-taught knowledge in archaeology, she might have let this gem gather dust indefinitely.

The ancient books Mr. Xue had given her were also of significant historical importance, true cultural gems. Yet, he never spoke of their monetary worth. As long as Ann Jue showed interest, he generously lent or gifted them to her. This generosity might have stemmed from his lifelong bachelorhood, having no children of his own, and his indifference to worldly affairs. To Mr. Xue, books and writing materials were meant to perpetuate culture, utterly unrelated to wealth, hence his disregard for their market value.

Nevertheless, he was a genuine scholar who treasured his collection of books, inkstones, and aged calligraphy papers. Had Ann Jue not been such a serene and respectful girl, he likely would have hesitated to entrust her with his precious ancient texts.

After his car accident, all the items in his home were handled by some relatives from the countryside. It was unclear whether they sold them to junk dealers or simply threw them away. Mr. Xue's house, at least, had some value, and the proceeds from its sale were divided among the relatives.

Ann Jue raced toward the market, driven by a desire for Mr. Xue to live longer and continue imparting his knowledge to her for a few more years. She also wanted to urge him not to carelessly give away the treasures in his home, and certainly not to let his uninformed relatives dispose of them haphazardly.