Chapter 127

For the past two days, the atmosphere in the classroom has been exceptionally stifling. Most of the students in the special program are from the South. They stare at the international news reports in the *People's Daily* as if they can see a sharp blade hanging over their heads. Although these young people have not experienced the fires of war themselves, the memories are etched into their blood—many of their fathers either sleep forever in foreign snowfields or have survived narrow escapes from the battlefield. For them, the principle that a weak motherland will inevitably face bullying is not a theoretical concept, but a pain that has permeated their very bones. In the afternoon, as the sun dipped toward the horizon, the parasol trees outside the classroom swayed in a light breeze, their green leaves rustling. The sound of cicadas through the windows could not disturb the students, who were deep in a heated discussion.