As far as Cen Huanian is concerned, February 4, 1973, was no different from other days he spent in the countryside. The clock had barely pointed to half-past six when he and his companions stood by the window. Prior to this, the students of the Wuqi Cadre School in Lichuan County had already come to the front of the room and lined up to buy breakfast.

Cen Huanian and his partner Zhang Xinghua were nervously busy. He is in charge of selling steamed buns, collecting meal coupons with one hand and forking the steamed buns to diners with chopsticks with the other. Zhang Xinghua is responsible for making porridge, one scoop per person, in his words, "that's all, and I don't give much to call." Looking at Cen Huanian wearing an old apron, wearing patched liberation shoes, and growing old hair and beard, no one could imagine that he was the principal of a complete elementary school with 600 students and dozens of teaching staff.

But these are all a thing of the past for Cen Huanian. Now he is a cook who has worked in this room for more than three years. Hundreds of people eat, just four cooks, so it can be said that they are busy every day. Since he had to get up at four o'clock in the morning and finish cleaning up at seven o'clock in the evening, Zhang Xinghua couldn't help but complain in private, saying that those who were in charge of the school were simply treating people as cattle messengers.

Zhang Xinghua's complaints naturally drifted into Cen Huanian's ears, but he just listened, neither objecting nor agreeing. It's not that he doesn't feel the same way, but he just feels that his weight and situation are not as good as Zhang Xinghua's, and he can't fire cannons like him, especially he thinks that compared to the many alumni who work in the fields, he is quite comfortable, at least he works indoors, he doesn't have to brave the wind and rain, and he can't be a person who doesn't know the blessings in the blessings.

It is precisely because of this that he is very grateful to the postman Lao Liu back then, if he is not one of the heads of the school department, he will take care of it, and this cook's errand will not be his turn. If you really want to go to the field to work, you will definitely not be able to bear it if you are tired and have back pain due to muddy water all day long.

Breakfast was finally sold out, and the cooks were able to sit down and eat. But just as Cen Huanian sat down in front of the stove with steamed buns and porridge, Jiang Ming, the secretary of the political work group of the school department, walked in, looked around with his eyes, and shouted in his mouth:

"Cen Huanian, what about Cen Huanian?"

"Ah, I'm here. Hearing Jiang Ming's call, Cen Huanian stood up.

"Why are you still eating?" Looking at Cen Huanian, who was swallowing steamed buns in his mouth, Jiang Ming frowned.

"Isn't this just the end of the sale?" Looking at his blunt attitude, Cen Hua Nian didn't have time to speak, but Zhang Xinghua on the side was impatient.

He has long been tired of seeing this kid and villain's appearance, and has been looking for an opportunity to repair him for a few words. Ben also, how old is Principal Cen, this kid actually has a "Cen Hua Nian", even if the mistakes he makes are serious, it is okay to call him "Lao Cen", which shows that this kid lacks education and does not know how thick the sky is.

Listening to Zhang Xinghua's angry answer, Jiang Ming was a little unhappy, but he endured it and didn't have a seizure. He knew that the other party was a master who was not afraid of things, and although his party membership was still hanging, he heard from the director of the school reform committee that because someone from above greeted him, he would "graduate" from here in a while, and he was even very likely to return to his old job and become his director of the transportation bureau. Therefore, he said to Cen Huanian as if he hadn't heard it: "Hurry up and eat, come to the political work group after eating, there is something important." ”

"Okay. Although Cen Huanian, like the rest of the cooking class, didn't like this young man who was bullied, his confidence was much worse than Zhang Xinghua's, so he responded obediently.

"Hmph. Jiang Ming glanced at Zhang Xinghua with great dissatisfaction, and walked towards the school department with a straight face.

"Lao Cen, what is the matter with the political work team looking for you?"

"It's not going to be for you to 'graduate', is it?"

"If that's the case, it would be good!"

Seeing Jiang Ming go out of the room, all the partners gathered around. They have been here for four years, and more than two years for the shortest. Although they have been arraigned less often since last year, and they no longer write endless examinations, after all, they have no home to return to, and they do not have complete personal freedom.

Listening to the discussions of his companions, Cen Huanian had nothing to say. What can he say?

I have been working in the school for more than four years, and in addition to working every day, I am writing inspections, and when I write inspections, I have to escalate and upgrade my own problems in accordance with the requirements of the school department, and then go to the program, and the hat is so big that it is scary, and in the end, I can't even figure out what kind of mistakes I have made, and the only thing that is clear is that I am a person with serious problems.

Of course, it is not the same thing to say that there is nothing to be gained here. At least, because of the continuous writing and inspection, the calligraphy has improved, and for a while, because of his good handwriting, many alumni actually tore up the public inspection he had just pasted and secretly tore it up and collected it, which caused the head of the school department to lose his temper when he found out, making him discouraged and depressed for a long time.

"Principal Cen, go quickly," watching Cen Huanian drink the last bite of porridge, the cooking squad leader reminded on the side, "If you go late, those people will show you your face again." ”

Cen Huanian thought so. He wiped his mouth, took off his apron, and walked towards the school headquarters.

The cooking squad leader reminded him that there were already people waiting there in the office of the political work group of the school department, in addition to Jiang Ming, there were two people with unfamiliar faces and leather bags in their hands, one year old and one young, who were transferred from outside at a glance.

Watching Cen Huanian come in, Jiang Ming pointed to the chairs that had been placed in advance in the house.

Cen Huanian sat down in his chair and waited to ask a question. In the cadre school, he has been questioned by foreign personnel several times, and he is not surprised to see it, and he is very experienced.

There was a quietness that Cen Huanian was familiar with in the room. After a while, the transferor Fang opened his mouth: "You are Cen Huanian, right?"

"Yes. Cen Huanian replied very succinctly.

"You've been teaching at Lichuan People's Primary School?" asked the transferee.

"Yes. Cen Huanian's answer was still only one word. He knew that this was just a cliché, and then there would be substantial problems thrown at him.

Sure enough, after the two dispatchers glanced at each other, they made their intentions clear: "Do you know Gong Heping?"

"Gong Heping? Suddenly hearing this name, Cen Huanian was stunned. Then a thought crossed his mind: Could it be that he also had an accident?

"When?" the transferee didn't let him think about it.

"1949. Since I have experienced it myself, I will not delay my answer.

"Where?"

"People's Primary School. ”

"How did you meet?"

Hearing this, Cen Huanian was stunned again.

"Why, don't you remember?" Seeing him like this, the transferor was puzzled, and the pen in his hand couldn't help but stop recording.

"Ah, remember, how not remember. When Cen Huanian heard this, he hurriedly replied. How could he not remember Gong Heping? Although the latter had been transferred to Guizhou for several years, his voice and smile still appeared in front of his eyes. This was not only because Gong was the first communist he had ever met, but also because the deputy county magistrate of Lichuan County gave him great help and care in his work and life, which made him truly feel the warmth between comrades.