Last School Day of the First Week
Jan. 8th, 2018 06:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rix_scaeduIt was a very pleasant morning, and warm enough to make me glad both that the warmest part of the year was past and that I usually started earlier in the morning than this. On the other hand, the shops were open, and more people were about. I dropped coins in the bowls of a shaven-haired monk, a beggar who looked like he had a wasting disease, and an education charity for foreign refugees. Those donations meant I had no qualms about turning down the opposing political parties touting for business at the University gates – I even managed to escape without copies of their handouts. Ying Li from my tutorial group wasn’t being so fortunate, the young man with a clipboard and pen who had her cornered against the gate wanted her to sign up for something and her body language screamed with discomfort.
I used a shadow ball to lightly tap him on his left shoulder, while I stepped in from his right and said, “Ying Li isn’t it? We’re in the same tutorial group at eleven? I’m Sung Nai. You asked about petition letter and the stolen wife in our last tutorial. We need to hurry, or we’ll be late.”
Ying Li looked at me with relief. “Oh, yes.” She stepped towards me and out of the space she’d been trapped in. “Let’s hurry or all the best seats will be taken.” We didn’t quite flee through the gate, but we were both out of clip-board man’s grasp by the time he turned back to where Ying Li had been.
When we were well clear of the gate, Ying Li said, “Thank you. That man just wouldn’t take no for an answer. I think he had some sort of quota to make, but I don’t see why I should have to give him my details when I don’t want to.”
“I know that where I come from both the Restoration Party and the Progressives are considered extremists, so I can see why you wouldn’t want either of them to have your details.” To try and smooth over any awkwardness my statement might cause, because politics can be difficult, I added, “Mind you, my home town usually elects our representatives from the Scholars’ Collective, Workforce Unity or the Democratic Front, so we’re very middle of the road.”
“I didn’t see any of them out there pinning me to a wall, so they could sign me up for a newsletter I don’t want,” replied Ying Li. “Where is this citadel of moderateness that you come from?”
“Jingshi in Zhongxiaoshan. I came here for the Earth Sciences course.” I decided not to go into the other details.
“I come from Cha Shihe, it’s considered to be one of the outer southern suburbs of Xiamtian. My parents would have liked me to have stayed at home while I studied here, but it’s just too far – the railway doesn’t go in our direction, and our part of the suburb is still on a rural bus timetable.” I must have looked confused because she added, “Once an hour in each direction, from six in the morning until six at night. It would take me an hour by bus to get to the nearest railway station, so I just wouldn’t be able to make it here in time for eight o’clock classes or home after late finishes. I’m in Classical Studies, but I want to take a lot of electives from Modern Studies, so I can get into provincial administration. I think things at the civil service level could be done better, particularly outside the designated urban areas.”
I was impressed. “You’ve really thought about it, haven’t you? I’m afraid that I haven’t thought that far ahead. I mean, It’s Earth Sciences, it ties into my gi studies, and helps me understand my gi better, plus if I have to stop being a professional fighter, it gives me something else to go into. Do you know where Classical Studies Building 2 is?”
We were on the edge of the Classical and Modern Studies buildings, and l didn’t know their layout when you approached them from the east.
“It’s over this way,” Ying Li indicated a blue roofed courtyard house. “You’re a professional gi fighter? Are you any good? Should I have heard of you?”
“I’ve had some success, but I don’t have my professional name yet. I want to keep going on the professional circuit, but common sense tells me that the end of my career could be one fight away. Preparing for life out of the ring while I have the resources to do so seems prudent.” I gave a self-deprecating smile.
“Very.” She gave me a small smile back. “What are you planning to do with your gi fighting?”
“I started because my father was talking about organising my engagement to someone he hadn’t picked out yet, and my gi teacher had said he thought I’d do well on the professional circuit, so it seemed like the time to try it while I could.” I gave another self-deprecating smile. “What I do with it is support myself, then my household, and my family. I pay my taxes, of course, to run public services for everyone. After that, investment to support me and my household in my old age, and find some charity or investment that will help improve the future for everyone.”
“That’s more thought out than I expected,” admitted Ying Li. “Most jocks at school were ‘Hey, prestige! Money!’ Most of them didn’t seem to think about what they were going to do with it.”
We entered the courtyard of Classical Studies Building 2 to be confronted by a double row of naturalistic statues, apparently of famous philosophers. “Money is only worth what you do with it,” I commented.
“So, are these conspicuous consumption, or learning tools, do you think?” Ying Li indicated the statues with one hand.
I considered the matter and replied, “Status objects. Have you seen the outside of the Yu Tan Kee Lecture Theatres over in Earth Sciences? They’ve got a statue of the Celestial Land Dragon on the roof, and a frieze with fox maidens entertaining our esteemed founders.”
“Do you think the senior faculty stand around at parties comparing statuary?” Ying Li looked at me quizzically.
“There are more embarrassing things they could be comparing,” I pointed out. “I have lots of siblings, and they have lots of friends. It could be much worse. At least Elder Brother Hu and his university friends only competed to see who could build the tallest tower in the shortest time.” I added, “They’re engineering students.”
“Ah.” Ying Li nodded. “I think that explains it then. Our room should be in the west building, there’s the entrance over there.” As we passed the statue of a northern philosopher, she asked, “Do northerners really have noses like that? It’s so big, and the end is sort of round and lumpy.”
I answered, “I haven’t seen one like that, but their noses do seem to be bigger than ours. Why does he have bunches of grapes carved into his pedestal?”
There was an influx of students into the courtyard from the eastern building, and we realised that we were probably in the class changeover period, so Ying Li and I hurried into the west building and found our tutorial room on the second floor. About two thirds of the class was already there, and we slipped into the two seats in the second row of twelve that were furthest from the door. The seat next to me, on the opposite side to Ying Li, was taken by a young man with a tattooed dragon’s claw on his hand nearest me, with the dragon’s limb disappearing up the sleeve of his blacks, and the tattooed dragon’s head emerging from behind his collar to sit on his neck below his jaw. I hadn’t seen the tattoo in our Arts tutorial, and it sat incongruously with his neat grooming.
The rest of the class arrived. Time for the tutorial to begin came, passed, and we had no tutor. We were beginning to pull out our timetables to doublecheck the details, and to contemplate finding a faculty office to ask what we should do, when someone arrived. An elderly gentleman with a long thin white beard, matching moustache, and a bald head walked in and stood behind the tutor’s desk. He was dressed in an extremely formal version of scholar’s robes, much nicer than anything my father owned, and our group response was to stand and bow.
“Thank you, children. Please, be seated.” He made some genial ‘get on with it’ hand gestures, and we all sat down again. “I’m afraid that you are all owed an apology. Your tutor should be Zang Xin, but he suffered an unfortunate incident on his way in this morning, and consequently will be in hospital for some time. We have spent the morning trying to organise appropriate coverage of his classes, but unfortunately everyone besides me has a prior engagement or obligation for this time. It’s been a number of years since I took tutorials, but I’m sure we can rub along together in a productive fashion. I’m Professor Bai Qing, Tang Chair of Epistemology, and I expect that we’ll be together at least until Zang Xin is able to return to work.” He smiled. “You may all address me as Professor Bai, or sir. My office is on the ground floor of the front building of this structure, my office hours for students are posted next to my name in the foyer, and I will warn my secretary to expect you.”
Professor Bai paused and then went on, “Now, assessments and examinations. You will be given readings each week in your lecture. Don’t ignore them, because each week you will be given five questions in this tutorial to which you will have to write one-page answers for three of them. Those answers will be handed in during the following Philosophy tutorial, marked, and then discussed in the Philosophy tutorial after that. A third of your potential marks are based on those answers, and you require seventy percent across the year to pass the course. Your Art tasks and your exams will evenly split the remainder of your potential marks. Any questions?”
We were all quiet. Professor Bai looked around the room, slightly surprised if his expression was to be believed, then started asking us questions about the content of our first lecture. He wrote things on the board, and asked more questions. Some people pulled out their lecture notes. The young man beside me put up his hand and, when called upon, stood and bowed, then asked politely, “Loong Lung, sir. Would it be incorrect to assume that because of the short notice you had before taking on this class, you haven’t had a chance to review the lecturer’s notes?”
Professor Bai chuckled and tossed a piece of chalk in the air, catching it expertly as it fell. “You’ve caught me,” he admitted. “I will be better prepared next week, but I don’t think I’m doing too badly for someone who had very little notice they were teaching this subject this morning. Now, a return question for you, young Loong. Name two ways you personally violate the precepts we’ve been discussing.”
Loong Lung bowed. “I cut my hair, and I have a tattoo. Both violate the principle of personal physical integrity as it was proposed, and allegedly practiced.”
“Allegedly practiced?” Professor Bai raised an eyebrow.
“Surviving writings say that people didn’t cut their hair, get tattoos, etc,” replied Loong Lung politely, “but that’s according to people who could afford to write on durable materials. We don’t know if they exaggerated their own virtue, or how people outside their level of society or beyond their control acted. There are dangers in basing one’s conclusions on one, unverified, set of data.” He sat down.
Professor Bai smiled. “Yes, the issue of how we know what we know. So-and-so said so. Why do we believe so and so? What other views could there be? Let’s have a quick look at today’s list of questions, shall we?”
We went over the list of questions, with Professor Bai making helpful remarks like, “Remember, you only have to answer three of the five,” and “Notice that there are different types of question in this list; some want your opinion, some want a review of other opinions, and some want a comparison,” plus “You may find yourself most comfortable or skilled with a particular type of question, and concentrating on them will help your tutorial marks, but all these types of questions may appear as non-optional elements of your exams – you should practice them all.”
The class went quickly, and as we finished up, Professor Bai said, “And just one more thing.” He held up a piece of paper, “When we say ‘one page’ we mean one standard Tang-jian leaf written in fourteen to sixteen point script. More than that is too verbose or too detailed for this assignment. Less may be acceptable, depending on your answer. Colour doesn’t matter as long it is legible, and try not to be too adventurous with your ink and paper colour combinations because you may get a marker at some point who doesn’t have standard eyesight.” He smiled, “I think that covers most of the usual issues. Now, I look forward to seeing your answers next week. You may leave now.”
I packed up my things, said good bye to Ying Li, and decided to drop my letters of introduction off in Physical Sciences before I had lunch. As Physical Sciences was at the northern end of the campus and I was down in the southeast corner, with only an hour before I needed to be over in Earth Sciences for my Physical Geography tutorial, I set off at a brisk walk. It wasn’t long before I was feeling the heat again, and I began to consider whether I should get a parasol. By the time I passed the Chancellor’s Office building, a parasol was definitely on my list of things to buy, and the coolness of Physical Sciences Building 4 was a great relief when I entered the foyer of the front building. The name plates in the foyer put the three scholars to whom I had introductions on the second floor, so I went up the stairs and followed the signs that read ‘Energy Faculty Reception’.
The signs led me to a desk at the western end of the floor where it looked like a room had been demolished and remodelled into an open support area. There were several empty desks, storage cupboards labelled with the names of stationery items, and a board of names with statuses such as ‘teaching’ or ‘out of office’ beside them. A thin, middle-aged woman with a heavily powdered face sat at the desk labelled ‘Reception’. I bowed politely, and said, “Good afternoon, I’m here to deliver some letters of introduction. I realise that the addressees probably aren’t available now, so how should I proceed?”
“If you leave the letters with me, I’ll see that they go to the right people,” replied the lady. “You’ll have to come back for the responses, I’m assuming you want meetings of some kind, and I’m not sure when you’ll get an answer.”
“So, if I just come back every afternoon next week until I have my replies?” I smiled cautiously at her.
“That would be best.” She looked at me appraisingly, “It would help if I had your name, so I know which replies are for you?”
“I’m Sung Nai, ma’am.” I handed her the letters of introduction. “Thank you for your help.”
She looked at the writing. “Professor Hu Kun?” She looked at me again. “You don’t look like an astrophysicist, yet.”
I made a self-disparaging gesture. “I’m not, ma’am. I’m in Earth Sciences, and I’m a gi student. Energy relationships interest me.”
She smiled, and suddenly looked like a family’s favourite aunt. “That’s the most coherent explanation of why anyone wants to see a faculty member I’ve heard in the last two days. I’ll see that your letters are delivered, and, between you and me, you’re most likely to get answers on second day next week. Now, I have other things I need to be doing, and I’m sure you do too. Good bye, and I’ll see you next week.” She went back to doing something on her desk, and I took myself back down the stairs, then outside, and off in the direction of Physical Sciences.
I found a seat under an exotic tree near the Earth Sciences faculty building to eat my lunch on. It was conveniently placed, with a water bubbler also under the tree’s shade, and although I had to eat in a hurry, I did get to my Physical Geography tutorial on time. Scholar Wu Gin was already there when I arrived, putting printed handouts at each assigned seating place. The other students who were already in place were reading their copies.
When he had finished handing out the document, Scholar Wu took his place at the front of the room, beckoned in a pair of people hovering uncertainly in the door way, and said, “Don’t worry, you are not late, I started early. The document in front of you is a copy of the marking criteria for the written assignments that you will be given in this class. I, for one, see no point in holding students to standards that have not been explained to them. Please become familiar with the contents because following them will both help you present your work in a professional manner, and maximise your marks for this section of your coursework. If any of you submit an article to one of the scholarly and/or professional geographical journals for publication, you will find that they have the same requirements for layout, references, and bibliography.” Then he led us into a discussion of the lecture and the readings that had been assigned. The last five minutes of the class were spent on the questions we had to address for the next tutorial, and then we were dismissed.
I was packing up my bag and considering what I was going to do with myself in the hour before my Statistics tutorial when Scholar Wu walked over to my desk. Most of the class was already out the door, although Mu Gen was still at the next desk and Shai Ben was packing up across the room. Scholar Wu said politely, “Excuse me, Miss Sung,” I looked up, “but had we met before the Alumni Association lunch in Orientation Week? I’ve been getting the persistent feeling that I’d met you before that, but I can’t remember where.” He looked at me expectantly.
I considered lying. Briefly, but then decided that would lead to more potential awkwardness in the future, so I replied, “We met, very briefly, on the train here from the capital. I was distributing New Year’s dumplings.” I added, “I had no idea who you were until the lunch.”
“New Year on the train?” He looked apologetic and said, “I’m afraid I was very…inebriated that night. I remember a lot of incense, and there were dumplings, I remember that….” He froze for a moment and asked carefully, “Miss Sung, do I owe you an apology?”
I took a deep breath and said, “Sir, you made a detailed suggestion, I gave my excuses for not taking you up on it, and that was it. If you don’t remember the details, then perhaps we should leave it at that?”
“So, you don’t plan on complaining to the university authorities about me?” Scholar Wu seemed genuinely worried.
“Sir, we weren’t in the university at the time. Neither of us knew who the other was, and you made an admittedly detailed suggestion, but there was no threat over my compliance or not. I don’t see that the incident has anything to do with the university.” I smiled. “Now, if someone in your position here did the same thing now, and threatened my marks to obtain compliance and/or silence, then that would be a matter for the university. Agreed?”
Scholar Wu nodded vigorously and looked relieved. “Thank you, Miss Sung, for your…honesty and clarity. I should, perhaps, endeavour to avoid that quantity of alcohol in the future. Possibly also that amount of incense. I trust my future behaviour will not disappoint you.”
“It’s just as much to the point, sir, that you do not disappoint yourself.” I wasn’t quite sure why I was suddenly feeling like the senior person in this conversation.
“I apologise if my actions upset you in anyway, Miss Sung.” Scholar Wu bowed slightly, “I should let you get on with you day. Thank you.” He turned and quickly left the room, nodding to the two other students on his way out.
Once he was gone, Mu Gen finished pretending to be still putting his things away, and came over to me saying, “Are you alright, Sung? That looked intense and awkward.” There was concern in the eyes under the shaggy fringe.
“Yeah,” that was from Shai Ben who’d crossed the room just as quickly. “Is there anything we should be worried about for you?”
I looked at them both and answered, “Thank you, but everything’s fine. There might have been problems, but I think it’s all sorted out.” I sighed, and added, “I’m going to go and have a pot of tea before my Statistics tutorial. You two?”
“Done for the week,” said Shai Ben. “I’m off home to get some work done before I go out tonight. Mu Gen?”
“I have to go to work,” answered Mu Gen. “Things to get done, or I don’t get paid. I’ll see you guys next week.” He bowed and was gone, but Shai Ben walked downstairs with me before we separated to go off in different directions.
I took myself off to Views of the Kwaizhu and ordered a pot of tea with two extra cups, in case Liang Ai and Ong Tien were able to join me. Then I took out the philosophy and geography questions, and started making rough notes.
Both girls joined me about half an hour before our Statistics tutorial was due to start, and I offered them tea. “Thank you,” replied Ong Tien. “I don’t think I care how long it’s been steeping.” Both girls sat down, and I poured for them. “I know my schedule is crazy, but why do we have a lecture at lunchtime on the fifth day of the week?”
“Because the scheduler hates the Hydrography tutors and doesn’t care about us,” replied Liang Ai. She drank some tea, “This might have been steeping for ages, but it still tastes better than the stuff I buy. Did you both get all the revision problems done?”
I put down the questions I was working on, and pulled out my statistics problems, just to doublecheck. So did Ong Tien. The three of us then compared our answers, and were relieved that they weren’t identical, but they were the same. We finished the tea, packed our work away, and took ourselves off to the tutorial.
The room was still in use by another class when we arrived, so we waited quietly in the corridor for it to finish. By the time it did, most of us were there, standing over our book bags or leaning against the wall. The other class emerged, some of them looking very angry, and we filed in to find Ai Kwan already in the tutor’s seat. He looked up at us, and said, “Please don’t worry that I will consider you late for arriving after me – my last class was in this room and today ran slightly over due to some…fraughtness. I trust that it won’t occur again. Please take you seats, we still have a couple of minutes before the class begins.”
Our last few classmates slid into the room, were assured by Scholar Ai that they weren’t late, and took their places. Then we reviewed our out-of-class revision questions, and continued on to more revision. By the time the class was done, we had gone over all the statistics we’d covered in secondary school, and Scholar Kwan was satisfied that we were prepared for the rest of the course. There were no problems assigned this time, just three chapters of reading in preparation for the next week.
We left, relieved that our first week was over. Ong Tien, Liang Ai, and I walked downstairs together, and separated there. Ong Tien was going home, Liang Ai wanted to do some work in the library, and my route home took me in a different direction to Ong Tien. Unexpectedly, I found myself walking towards the university entrance with Loong Lung who’d just finished a Statistics for Modern and Classical Sciences tutorial. We compared notes and discovered that both subjects had spent their first week of tutorials doing revision. We talked a little more about our shared class, and how empty the campus seemed at this time of the week, then we reached the bus stops.
I expected him to wait for a bus, but he turned up the street with me and said apologetically, “I’m not following you, really. My grandfather’s waiting for me up at the corner with his car. I hope you don’t mind me walking with you.”
“You haven’t been objectionable,” I told him, “and I’m never going to make friends if I don’t talk to people.”
Loong Lung laughed. “You haven’t met my grandfather yet,” he warned me. “He can be a bit over the top. I think he has plans for me, not that he’s explained them to me.”
“Last time I saw my father, he’d come up with what he thought was a wonderful plan for my future,” I admitted. “He did explain it, and that was the problem. If your grandfather is prepared to encourage you to study something you want to study, perhaps his plans aren’t too far from what you want to do?”
“There’ll be strings,” said Loong Lung darkly. “There always are, and here’s his car.”
There was an expensive black sedan sitting by the curb at the beginning of the side street, and a bald man of Loong Lung’s height climbed out of the back seat to stand on the footpath. He was dressed in a lurid casual robe patterned with large theatrical masks and terrestrial dragons. The difference between his robe and his skin was that the details of his tattoos, which extended over his scalp, were finer.
“That’s Grandfather,” confirmed Loong Lung. “I’ll have to introduce him; his name is Loong Shi.”
“Should I call him Mr Loong or Master Loong?” I suspected that those tattoos signified something.
“Master Loong would make him very happy,” admitted Loong Lung. “It’s complicated, but correct.” I accompanied him over to the car, and bowed politely while Loong Lung said, “Grandfather, I’m sorry if I kept you waiting. This,” he indicated me, “is my classmate, Sung Nai, who happened to be walking in the same direction. Miss Sung, this is my grandfather, Loong Shi.”
I bowed again, “Master Loong, it is an honour.”
He bowed in return. “Miss Sung, the pleasure is mine.” His voice had a rough note that I associated with Master Que. “I regret that my grandson and I cannot linger for further conversation.”
“I quite understand, Master Loong.” I smiled. “I have to be getting home myself. I hope that your evening goes well.”
“And yours, Miss Sung.” We all bowed again, the two men got into the car, and I crossed the road to continue home.
I arrived back at the house in Heng Mien Street wondering whether I should have gotten the bus after all in this weather. Master Que was pleased to advise me that we had a working phone line and number. There was also a note from my solicitors, asking me to come and see them the next day to finalise the contract with my proposed agents, and to discuss the television station contract.
I called them to confirm the appointment using my new phone, and so my next day was organised.
This is now followed by More Domesticity and Business.
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Date: 2018-01-08 09:55 am (UTC)I wonder if that will be the end of the situation with Scholar Wu. He certainly seems to have realized the error of his ways, but not everyone prone to drinking to excess finds moderation easy. I am curious about the incense, and am guessing it is also psychoactive?
Yup, I really need to make myself a character cheat sheet. I appreciate the reminders that come with many of the characters. :)
Nai is being self-deprecating rather a lot in this episode.
<bounces for the next segment>
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Date: 2018-01-08 10:12 am (UTC)Incense isn't normally psychoacive, but it did come from a lady who was offering to tell fortunes, so who knows?
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Date: 2018-01-08 11:51 am (UTC)And I was wondering about the incense too.
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Date: 2018-01-08 11:52 am (UTC)*offers her tea instead*
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Date: 2018-01-08 09:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-01-08 11:16 pm (UTC)That is so much reading....
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Date: 2018-01-22 02:37 am (UTC)The Energy Faculty receptionist sounds like she'll be an interesting one to work with for Nai. But how does she treat people who can't come up with a cogent reason for talking to a faculty member? Some are more gatekeeper-y than others.
Nai seems to have handled the situation with Scholar Wu about as well as she might, given the setup. I just hope Scholar Wu will keep up his end of things.
The Loongs intrigue. A student with a tattoo implies parental — or possibly grandparental in his case — consent. How does Grandfather Loong rates "master" in such a complicated way? And those strings, with their lack of apparent explanation, also have me wondering.
I hope that her classes settle down in the next few weeks.
no subject
Date: 2018-01-22 09:31 am (UTC)