Chapter 186

Zhao Jianguo had just returned from outside Xizhimen, still clutching that oiled paper in his hand; the wind blew his shirt hem tight against his leg, he stood at the Siheyuan gate, took a deep breath, stuffed the thing into his pocket, and stepped over the threshold.

The courtyard was livelier than usual. Dong Xu was leading several students in the courtyard fiddling with an iron tin box, electric wires tangled all over the ground. San Daye stood by the wall, holding a bamboo pole with a red cloth tied to its tip, muttering: "Hang it higher! This is the top priority of our courtyard!"

Sha Zhu poked his head out from the kitchen with a meal tin: "Who says no? Even the steamed buns I made I deliberately added alkali to, for chewiness."

Zhao Jianguo walked over and saw it was a brand-new plaque, the wood lacquered shiny, the seven characters "Model Unit for Mass Learning" carved neatly. Beside it lay a ladder, apparently meant to be hung above the front courtyard gate.

"You guys are moving fast," he said.

San Daye turned his head, saw him, and his face lit up: "Finally back! We've been waiting for you to give the go-ahead. Once this plaque is up, our Siheyuan will officially be designated an education base."

Zhao Jianguo nodded, about to speak, when he heard a "crack". The old wall beside him shuddered, dust sifting down from the brick joints. The ladder leaning against the wall began to sway.

"Careful!" he shouted, lunging forward to grab the ladder; the plaque almost slipped.

Dong Xu immediately ran over to help, shouting: "Get the metal frame!" Several students sprinted inside, bringing out several metal brackets. They nailed the brackets into the ground and fixed them to the wall; the whole process took less than ten minutes.

The wall steadied.

Zhao Jianguo breathed a sigh of relief, looking up at the plaque: "Good thing it didn't hit anyone."

San Daye patted his chest: "Scared me to death. If it got smashed, the higher-ups would blame us, and we couldn't explain it."

Sha Zhu stepped in to smooth things over: "No problem. Even if it got smashed, I could fix it—I'm best at welding iron sheets with my spatula."

Everyone laughed.

Zhao Jianguo was about to hang the plaque when he noticed San Daye pulling another banner from his pocket, unfolding it to read: "Founder: San Daye."

"This..." Zhao Jianguo frowned.

San Daye lifted his chin: "What's wrong? I may not have merit, but I've put in the effort—organizing sign-ins, arranging lessons, isn't that all me taking the lead?"

Zhao Jianguo didn't argue, just turned to the children gathered nearby and said: "You tell me, who was the first to step up and give a lesson?"

A child raised his hand: "Uncle Dong Xu! He taught us how to fix radios."

Another child said: "My mom! She taught everyone to recognize characters."

Someone else shouted: "And Uncle Sha Zhu, he taught us accounting!"

Zhao Jianguo nodded: "Then what do you think—was the courtyard's teaching started by just one person?"

The children chimed in all at once: "It was everyone together!"

San Daye listened, his face slowly reddening. He looked down at the banner he'd written, sighed, tore off the three characters "Founder", then took a pen, altered a few strokes, and rehung it—now it read "Everyone Can Be a Teacher."

"Fine," he muttered, "it's collective honor—I won't quarrel over that."

Zhao Jianguo laughed, and together with Dong Xu he hung the plaque. As the hammer drove in the final nail, sunlight fell exactly on those seven large characters, blazing bright.

At that moment, Dong Xu patted the iron tin box beside him: "Come on, let everyone see this new gadget."

"What is it?" someone asked.

"An automatic problem-solver," Dong Xu said proudly. "It can do addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, and even set up equations. It's made from a refurbished old motor, with parts scavenged from the factory."

He flipped the switch; the machine buzzed a few times, the numbers on the screen jumped, then it jammed, displaying "8+5=2".

The crowd fell silent.

Someone whispered: "Is it broken?"

Another muttered: "After all that effort, we ended up with a machine that gets the math wrong?"

Dong Xu's face darkened; he immediately opened the casing to inspect. He felt the power interface, found it loose, tightened the screws, and reconnected the wires.

Zhao Jianguo stepped forward and told everyone: "It making mistakes is normal—just like students doing homework can get things wrong. What matters is that it keeps learning."

As soon as he finished speaking, the machine rebooted, the screen lit up, and this time it showed "8+5=13".

The children clapped and cheered.

Zhao Jianguo crouched down and said to a little boy: "Want to try powering it?"

The child nodded, was brought to a hand-crank generator. He turned the handle hard; current flowed, and the machine ran more smoothly. Other children gathered around, taking turns cranking.

Dong Xu grinned: "Looks like we still need people to drive the machine's progress."

As they spoke, the courtyard gate was pushed open. He Yushui walked in carrying a canvas bag, holding a publication in her hand.

"Good news!" she said in a clear voice. "The 'Normal School Communique' is going to feature our Siheyuan's teaching experience—as the headline!"

Everyone gathered around.

She flipped to a page, pointed at the headline, and read: "'The Mysterious Time Traveler Zhao Jianguo's Unique Miracle'... See, isn't that catchy enough?"

Zhao Jianguo glanced at it and shook his head directly: "No."

"Why?" He Yushui stared, stunned.

"I'm not some mysterious figure," he said. "I haven't created any miracle. I just want everyone to believe that each person can teach and each person can learn."

He pointed at Dong Xu: "He works by day, prepares lessons at night, and comes to class with oil still on his hands."

He then pointed at Sha Zhu: "He turned his own kitchen into a self-study room to free up classroom space."

Finally he looked at San Daye: "He's the oldest, yet he was the first to learn how to draw diagrams with chalk."

"This isn't a one-person thing," he said. "So the title shouldn't be written like that."

He Yushui lowered her head, thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up: "How about changing it to 'An Courtyard's Education Revolution'?"

"Okay," Zhao Jianguo nodded, "or something more down-to-earth—'Siheyuan Teaching Method: How Grassroots Wisdom Can Change the Educational Ecology'."

"Great name!" Dong Xu clapped his hands.

He Yushui quickly noted it down: "I'll tell the editor when I get back to rewrite the manuscript. Next week I'll arrange an open teaching day so outsiders can see firsthand how we teach."

"No problem," Zhao Jianguo promised. "Then I'll ask Engineer Dong Xu to give the mechanical principle lesson, Sha Zhu to teach practical mathematics, and San Daye to organize the discussion."

San Daye, hearing he'd have to go on stage to teach, instantly grew nervous: "I... I can do this?"

Sha Zhu laughed heartily: "What's there to fear? You're always commenting on stories in the courtyard—just switch the book."

The crowd burst into laughter.

The sun had moved to the center of the courtyard, warm and cozy. The problem-solver kept running, students gathered around asking questions, Dong Xu answering while noting down the queries. San Daye held a little notebook, scribbling and drawing on the side, as if preparing a lesson plan. Sha Zhu busied himself pouring water for everyone, muttering: "Even an education base can't lack logistical support."

Zhao Jianguo stood under the sign, looking at all this, feeling reassured.

Shuang Baotai didn't know when they had run over, each grabbing one of his hands, looking up and asking, "Dad, can we also be teachers?"

"Of course." He bent down and picked them up, "When you grow a bit older, you can teach other kids to recognize characters, draw, and do experiments."

"What can we do now?"

"Now then," he said with a smile, "study hard, and in the future pass on the fire of this courtyard."

The two children giggled, wriggling in his arms.

Just then, footsteps came from outside the courtyard gate.

Zhao Jianguo looked up and saw a man in uniform walking toward the gate. He was tall, walked steadily, and carried a black briefcase.

He recognized him—it was the Special Forces Captain.

The twins were still fussing to be put down; one reached up to touch the wind chime under the sign, and with a light touch it chimed.

Zhao Jianguo held the children and took two steps forward.