APTnovel Chapter 62 Oath-Taking Ceremony
Chapter 62 Oath-Taking Ceremony
Time flies, and so does life.
In the blink of an eye, the day of the 100-day countdown rally has arrived.
The wind on the playground is hot.
More than a thousand students stood below the platform, their blue and white school uniforms forming a continuous line, shining brightly in the sun.
A red banner with white lettering was displayed on the stage, reading "Yucai No.1 Middle School's 100-Day Countdown Rally for the Junior High School Entrance Examination".
The banner billowed in the wind, then deflated, making a rustling sound.
Speakers were placed on both sides of the stage, playing a march. The sound from the speakers was a bit crackling, with a buzzing electrical sound mixed in with the drumbeats.
Song Huan stood to the side of the podium, clutching the manuscript in her hand.
After the host finished reading the opening remarks, he said, "Next, please welcome candidate representative Song Huan to speak."
The applause rang out, not enthusiastic, but acceptable.
Song Huan walked onto the stage and stood in front of the microphone.
The microphone was a bit low, so he raised it up and adjusted the height.
The audience was a sea of black, with no one's face visible; all that could be seen was a blue and white ocean.
But he knew where Xiao Yunqing was.
The third row is on the right, with Zhou Tiantian on the left and Yi Fan on the right.
She sat very upright, her ponytail tied high, and looked up at him.
He could feel her gaze.
"Dear teachers and students," he began, his voice echoing across the playground from the speakers. "I am Song Huan from Class 1, Grade 9."
The audience quieted down, and he spoke for a few minutes following the script, talking about learning methods, time management, and mindset adjustment.
The school leaders nodded in the front row, and the principal tilted his head and said something to the person next to him, who also nodded.
Then Song Huan paused for a moment, looking at the blue and white sea of people below the stage, and at the figure with a ponytail on the right side of the third row.
The wind blew, making the banner billow.
He took the manuscript out of his pocket, unfolded it, glanced at it, then folded it back and stuffed it into his pocket.
"What follows is not in the manuscript," he said.
The entire room fell silent for a second.
The school leaders looked up; some frowned, while others sat up straight.
Gao Xiao, who was sitting next to him, was stunned for a moment, then smiled helplessly.
This kid's up to his old tricks again.
A teacher nearby leaned over and whispered, "Should we cut it off?"
The principal shook his head, looked at the spirited boy on the stage, and sighed, "Let them make a scene."
Song Huan stood on the stage, sunlight shining on his face and casting his shadow on the red banner behind him.
"Youth is a book that is written too hastily," he said.
The sound wasn't loud, and there was a buzzing sound from the speakers, but every word was very clear.
"We were in a hurry to turn the pages and see the ending. Only when we got to the last page did we realize that we hadn't read many pages carefully."
The audience fell even quieter; even the boys in the back row who were usually the most talkative were silent.
"When I was in the first year of junior high, someone would drag me to school every morning. She would shout downstairs that Song Huan was late, and I would lie on my bed, not wanting to move. At that time, the days seemed very long, three years felt like a long time."
He paused for a moment, then said, "Now that three years are almost over, I realize that those days of being woken up in the mornings seem to be numbered."
In the third row on the right, Xiao Yunqing sat there, head tilted back, motionless.
The sunlight shone on her face, making her eyes bright and her lips pursed.
Zhou Tiantian, who was standing next to her, secretly glanced at her, her eyes filled with undisguised envy.
"We always feel that there is plenty of time, that graduation is still far away, that we can see some people again tomorrow, and that we can say some things again tomorrow."
Song Huan's voice drifted across the playground, somewhat dispersed by the wind, "But youth isn't calculated like that. Youth is counted down. The number on the blackboard goes from 97 to 67, from 67 to 37, from 37 to..."
He paused for a moment before continuing.
"Youth is a constant cycle of encounters and missed opportunities. So, I hope everyone will not only look out the window, but also remember to look at each other more often."
His gaze swept across the audience, pausing briefly on the third row, slightly to the right. "That concludes my speech. Thank you."
He bowed, and the entire room fell silent for about two seconds.
Then applause surged up like a tide, from the first row to the last, from left to right, from under the podium to under the camphor trees at the back of the playground.
Some people applauded, some cheered, and some stood up only to be pulled down by those around them.
The school leaders were taken aback for a moment, then they began to applaud.
The principal patted twice, paused, then continued patting, his face bearing an indescribable expression.
Xiao Yunqing sat in the third row, looking up, tears streaming down her face.
She raised the back of her hand and wiped it, then wiped it again.
Zhou Tiantian, who was next to her, handed her a tissue. She took it and held it in her hand, but didn't wipe her face.
Song Huan stepped down from the stage and walked through the crowd.
Someone patted him on the shoulder, someone said "Well said," and he nodded without stopping.
As he walked to the back of the line, Xiao Yunqing stood there, holding a bottle of milk, looking at him.
Her ponytail was a little messy from the wind, her eyes were still red, but she was smiling happily.
She handed him the milk, and he took it; the bottle was warm.
……
When we returned to the classroom, everyone was already seated.
The classroom was quiet, unlike usual.
Normally, after the bell rings during breaks, the classroom is like a boiling pot.
The sounds of chairs scraping the floor, turning pages, and people calling to go to the toilet were all mixed together.
Everyone is now sitting in their seats. Some are looking out the window, some are slumped over their desks, and some are looking down at their textbooks but not turning the pages.
Even Yi Fan didn't say anything, just sat in his seat in a daze.
The school bell rang.
The political science teacher walked in, placed the textbook on the podium, and glanced around the classroom.
"This lesson will cover Lesson Seven."
He opened his textbook, then closed it again, and adjusted his glasses. "But before I begin, I'd like to say a few words."
He leaned against the podium, arms crossed, and said, "I heard Song Huan's speech on the playground just now."
He glanced at Song Huan, who was sitting upright in the first row by the window. "It's refreshing."
He paused, picked up his textbook, turned to a page, and read a passage aloud: "In the process of interacting with the opposite sex, we feel joy because of our appreciation for them and our yearning for beauty, and we easily mistake this appreciation and yearning for love. In fact, this is not true love."
After he finished reading, he put the textbook down.
"That's what it says in the book," he said.
Then he looked out the window at the playground, where the national flag on the flagpole fluttered in the wind. "But what I want to tell you is..."
The classroom became even quieter; even the girls in the back row who usually passed notes during class stopped.
"When you suddenly realize that this admiration and longing for the opposite sex has touched your heart and made you unable to extricate yourself..."
He paused for a moment, then said, "Don't be afraid, that's love."
No one spoke. The ceiling fan spun slowly overhead, and dust on the blades drifted in the sunlight.
"You two may not end up together." His voice was soft, as if he were talking to himself, "but we've walked this journey together, and that's enough for a lifetime."
The bell rang, but he didn't say "get out of class dismissed" and left with his textbooks.
He paused at the door, glanced back, and then left.
The classroom was still quiet, with some people lying on their desks with their faces buried in their arms.
Some people are looking out the window. Outside the window is a playground where people are running, playing football, and chatting on the grass.
Sunlight streamed in, falling on the desks, the textbooks, and the unfinished notes.
Song Huan sat in her seat, looking out the window.
Xiao Yunqing sat beside him, looking down as she flipped through her textbook. After turning two pages, she stopped.
After a while, she reached over and placed a chocolate bean on his desk.
Song Huan glanced down, held the candy in her hand, but didn't eat it.
The wind blowing in from outside the window made the curtains flutter gently.
Sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the curtains, falling in dappled patterns on the desk and between the two students.