A female student wearing glasses stood up. "Teacher, that's me. My name is Wang Min."
Lin Zhilan nodded. "Wang Min, is there a class roster?"
"Yes, there is." Wang Min rummaged through her desk and handed the roster over.
"Let's take roll."
Lin Zhilan swept her gaze across the classroom and began calling out names.
Only Zhao Weidong was absent.
Lin Zhilan picked up a red pen and wrote two words next to Zhao Weidong's name: Absent.
In this era, the consequences of a university student skipping class were far more severe than in later generations.
Not only would their attendance record be posted publicly and their names called out during political study sessions, but they would also be disqualified from being selected as "Five-Good Students" or "Activists."
If the absences piled up and the student refused to correct their behavior, they would be labeled as "unserious in studies, lacking organization and discipline," forced to make a public self-criticism, and have a demerit recorded in their permanent file.
One shouldn't underestimate this punishment.
Once finalized, the penalty would be reported to their original work unit, affecting their future job assignment and promotions upon return.
Furthermore, they would be suspended from participating in certain activities and stripped of various recommendation qualifications.
"Student Zhao Weidong did not come to class," Lin Zhilan said, closing the roster. She looked up, her tone indifferent. "Please pass a message to Student Zhao Weidong for me. If he skips three classes, he can forget about passing this course."
The classroom was dead silent; no one spoke.
On Zhao Weidong's first day of school, everyone knew he came from a privileged background, and no one dared to offend him.
Now, on her very first day, the new Prescriptions teacher was clashing with him. The students weren't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.
After school in the afternoon, Lin Zhilan packed her things to leave.
Wang Min chased after her, clutching her books. "Teacher Lin, I need to speak with you."
Lin Zhilan stopped in her tracks. "What's wrong? Was there something in the lesson you didn't understand?"
"No," Wang Min said, adjusting her glasses. "Teacher, Zhao Weidong's father is the director of the school's Revolutionary Committee."
The school didn't have a principal or a dean.
Actual power rested in the hands of the Revolutionary Committee, the Workers' Propaganda Team, and the Military Propaganda Team.
The director of the school's Revolutionary Committee was essentially the highest authority in the school.
Wang Min was only reminding Lin Zhilan because she didn't want the teacher to offend the school leadership.
Although Lin Zhilan looked young, she taught very well and wasn't the type of teacher who was all talk and no substance.
Wang Min didn't want her to be negatively affected by the situation with Zhao Weidong.
"Director of the Revolutionary Committee?" Lin Zhilan pondered for a moment. "No wonder he has such a big ego, thinking he can change majors whenever he pleases."
"I understand. Thank you for the reminder." Lin Zhilan pulled a fruit candy from her pocket. "Here, this is for you. Don't tell anyone you spoke to me about this."
Lin Zhilan wasn't afraid of being targeted, but the same couldn't be said for these students.
Wang Min took the candy and nodded repeatedly.
Worried about her children at home, Lin Zhilan learned there was still an evening boat, so she immediately packed her things at the guesthouse and headed back.
When the boat arrived at the island pier, the sky wasn't fully bright yet, and a thin layer of mist shrouded the sea.
The boatman set up the gangplank, and Lin Zhilan stepped onto it, carrying her cloth bag ashore.
It was too early, so there was hardly anyone at the pier. This boat had mainly carried supplies.
Fortunately, the military base cafeteria's supply truck was there. Lin Zhilan hitched a ride and soon arrived at the family compound.
She didn't head toward her own house; instead, she turned a corner and went straight to her mother-in-law's place.
Dawn had yet to break, and every household was quiet.
Lin Zhilan walked to the door. Just as she was about to wait a moment before knocking, she caught some movement in the opposite courtyard out of the corner of her eye.
Chang San was sitting on a low stool, tending to a small red clay stove. A clay pot sat on the stove, emitting the scent of medicine.
Lin Zhilan's nose twitched slightly.
She could smell it: the scent of sour jujube seeds, polygala root, and arborvitae seeds, along with a hint of the sweet fragrance of mimosa tree bark.
Before Lin Zhilan could speak, Chang San noticed her first.
"Doctor Lin, you're back." Chang San walked briskly to the courtyard gate. He tried to smile, but his facial muscles didn't cooperate, giving him an unnatural, forced expression.
He looked quite a bit older than Lin Zhilan, yet he addressed her with the respectful "you" with every breath. Every time she heard it, Lin Zhilan felt as if she were bullying an honest man.
"Doctor Chang," Lin Zhilan nodded and took two steps closer, her gaze falling on the clay pot. "What medicine are you brewing?"
"Something to soothe the nerves."
Lin Zhilan let out an understanding "Oh." "Is it for your wife?"
"Yes." Chang San's answer was brief. He wanted to say a bit more to make small talk, but over the years, he truly hadn't acquired that skill.
"That's good." Lin Zhilan wasn't very familiar with him, so she didn't have much to say either.
She turned to leave, but Chang San called out to her, "Doctor Lin, Aunt Xu and the others aren't awake yet. Why don't you sit in the courtyard for a bit?"
Chang San brought her a wooden bench and placed it by the courtyard gate.
Lin Zhilan had no choice but to sit down.
The two of them sat there in mild awkwardness, with nothing to say to each other.
"You..."
"You..."
They both spoke at the same time. Lin Zhilan smiled and said, "You go first."
Chang San said, "Manman told me that when she fell from the ladder before, you and Aunt Xu helped her. Thank you."
"It's nothing," Lin Zhilan replied. "As long as you don't mind that I climbed over your wall."
Chang San looked embarrassed, knowing she was still annoyed about what had happened previously.
Lin Zhilan said, "I don't know if I should ask, but has your wife always been in this condition?"
"Ah?" Chang San froze for a moment before realizing what she meant. "Something happened in our family, and that's why she became like this today."
In traditional Chinese medicine, mental disorders fall under the category of Shenzhi diseases, which can be divided into depressive syndromes and manic syndromes.
Lin Zhilan had seen Chang San's wife once.
She was very clean, didn't hit people or destroy things, and didn't look restless or manic, so it was likely a depressive syndrome.
"You're a doctor of traditional Chinese medicine. Haven't you thought about curing her?"
Chang San looked at the fire in the stove and shook his head. "This illness relies seventy percent on recuperation and thirty percent on medication. If the knot in her heart isn't untied, medicine alone will struggle to cure the root cause."
Sickness of the heart requires medicine of the heart.
Lin Zhilan had no desire to pry into other people's private matters, so she dropped the subject.
A woman's voice came from inside the house. Chang San immediately stood up and said to Lin Zhilan, "Doctor Lin, please wait here a moment. I'm going to feed my wife her medicine."
He moved nimbly, pouring the medicinal decoction from the stove into a bowl, and carried it into the house.
Even through the wall, Lin Zhilan could hear his voice coaxing her like a child.
A little while later, he came out of the house, holding several notebooks in his hands.
"Doctor Lin, these were passed down from my ancestors. However, they are my handwritten copies. If you don't mind, please take them back and have a look."
The reason Chang San was called a little prodigy when he was young was because he had a photographic memory.
He could memorize the Songs of Prescriptions after being taught just once, and he could remember a book after flipping through it a few times.
The Shen family was a family of traditional Chinese medicine practitioners, and the number of books passed down through the generations was countless.
They had all been destroyed.
Chang San only felt it was a pity. Fortunately, he had read a lot of books over the years, and many of them were memorized in his head.
However, he didn't dare bring them out for fear of causing trouble.
These few notebooks were ones he had transcribed over the past few days. He had only one goal: to get on Lin Zhilan's good side.
