Lan Jue rolled down the street on his antique bicycle, leisurely meandering down the lanes with a small smile curling the corners of his mouth.
His right hand still felt the grip of the teaching director, who’d vigorously shaken his hand following the class. ‘Thank you,’ he’d said before leaving.
As for the students, they left the classroom with slack or terrified expressions. Lan Jue, meanwhile, felt a contentment in mind and body as the class concluded. Perhaps it was the transmission of positive energy that had him so upbeat.
He still remembered clearly his own days as a student, that stodgy professor who’d taught a class very similar to his own. Even now it was like that enlightening voice was speaking right by his ear. He’d experienced so much in these last few years, but his origins were still fresh in his memory.
