Chapter Forty-Five: University Dances in This Era

Beijing Normal University Faculty Dormitory.

Song Jianming pushed open the door and entered his home, looking somewhat dazed. Inside the living room sat a square table occupied by two elderly people in their fifties or sixties, a girl of about fifteen or sixteen, and Song Jianchun.

"The eldest is back? Come, join us for dinner; we were just waiting for you." His father gestured to him with a smile.

"Sit down, Big Brother." His younger sister, Song Wan, hugged her bowl and stood up, looking aggrieved as she offered her seat to Song Jianming.

"No, that’s alright. You sit, Little Sister. I’ll sit for a while before I eat." Song Jianming shook his head, sat to the side, and began to smoke.

Seeing this, the others assumed he was simply tired and continued their meal. The Song family was considered a household of scholars. There were five of them; the father had previously worked in the logistics department at Beijing Normal University before passing the position to Song Jianming, and the mother worked in the civil affairs department. The second brother, Song Jianchun, was a talented individual, and the younger sister was doing well at her high school in Wangfujing. With a monthly household income of around one hundred yuan, they were considered a high-income family, easily supporting five people and enjoying meat dishes from time to time.

On the table were a plate of stir-fried preserved meat, a plate of stir-fried cabbage, a plate of radishes, and a plate of eggs—a very decent spread for the middle of winter.

"Big Brother, if you aren't going to eat, can I have more of the preserved meat?" his sister asked, glancing at him with a clever glint in her eyes.

"Eat, go ahead..." Song Jianming nodded dully. For some reason, he kept thinking of the mother and daughter he had seen on the street earlier. Though it was only a fleeting glimpse, he wasn't entirely sure if it had truly been them.

"You spoil her too much; she has no sense of propriety," his father chided.

"What do you mean? Big Brother has already been promoted to a full assistant instructor with a monthly salary of fifty-six yuan! What’s a little preserved meat compared to that? Right, Big Brother? You said you’d buy me White Rabbit creamy candies. My desk mate shared some with me yesterday; it would be so embarrassing if I couldn't return the favor," Song Wan muttered.

"Can you compare yourself to her? Her father is a grand professor at the Central Academy of Fine Arts, and her mother is a dancer," Song Jianchun, who had been quiet until now, said with a smile.

"So what? If Big Brother hadn't been framed... he might be a professor by now, too..."

"Alright, alright! I'll buy you some tomorrow!" Song Jianming sighed.

"Great!"

After the bustle settled, everyone returned to their meal.

"Eldest, you aren't young anymore, nearly thirty. When will you find a partner? They say a man should marry when he’s of age. I thought that girl who brought you back from the southern border was quite good—beautiful, from a prominent family, and she treated you well," his father said suddenly.

"We'll see," Song Jianming replied dismissively, his mind in turmoil.

After dinner, Song Jianchun put on his coat and headed for the door. "I’m leaving, Big Brother. The students in the Chinese Department are hosting a social dance in the main cafeteria; I’m going to check it out."

"I want to go too!!!" Song Wan’s eyes lit up, and she immediately raised her hand.

"Absolutely not! A young girl going out dancing? What kind of behavior is that?" her mother interjected, having remained silent until now.

"I understand, Mom..."

***

Beijing Normal University Cafeteria.

"Hahaha! Ji Qinglan, you silly girl, how could you fall asleep during an exam in the middle of winter?"

"I’m dying of laughter! Ji Qinglan, I’ll be laughing at this for the rest of my life. Falling asleep is one thing, but why did you have to say *that*?"

In a corner of the cafeteria, several girls were eating while teasing Ji Qinglan for her nap during the exam.

"What did I say? Stop making things up!" Ji Qinglan retorted, chewing her food with dissatisfaction.

"Denying it, are you? My friend told me that when Teacher Xiao Cheng woke you up, you said, 'Teacher Xiao Cheng, why did you come into our girls' dormitory?' Do you have any idea? Half the Chinese Department knows by now! You’ve completely humiliated yourself!" Zhao Ruixue poked the girl’s chubby, naive face in frustration.

"I didn't do it on purpose..." Ji Qinglan hung her head weakly. While she wanted to be famous among her classmates, she certainly didn't want it to be like this! She stole a glance around the room, hoping no one else was laughing at her.

The four of them continued to eat while discussing the exam. "By the way, how did you interpret the central theme of that short story Professor Jiang assigned..."

"The one about life and death? Professor Jiang’s story was truly excellent."

"It was like this..." Ji Qinglan explained with gusto. Despite falling asleep in the exam hall, she was a brilliant student; she had only fallen asleep because she had finished the test and had been studying too late the night before. She quickly dominated the debate, successfully refuting the others' points.

Most students were like them, discussing their exams and grades. After days of exhausting testing, the sudden relief made everyone’s mood lighter.

"Hey! Isn't that Teacher Xiao Cheng?" Zhang Chun, the quiet girl, pushed up her glasses and pointed at a man and woman walking through the entrance.

"Who is that woman?" Yang Mengshan asked, her eyes filled with suspicion.

This triggered Zhao Ruixue’s vigilance, and she immediately looked over. It was Cheng Kaiyan and Lin Xiaohong. Yang Mengshan glanced at Zhao Ruixue, whose expression was unreadable, and suppressed a smile. Everyone in the dormitory knew Zhao Ruixue was hung up on her childhood friend, but unfortunately, one was a teacher and the other a student, making a relationship naturally impossible.

Seizing the moment, she stood up and shouted, "Teacher Xiao Cheng, over here!"

Not far away, Cheng Kaiyan heard the call and walked over. "You all are here, too? Wait for us, we’re going to get some food."

The two fetched their meals and sat down with the four girls.

"Teacher Xiao Cheng, who is this?"

"I forgot to introduce you. This is Teacher Lin Xiaohong from the Foreign Literature Research Office," Cheng Kaiyan introduced her solemnly to Zhao Ruixue and the others.

"Hello, Teacher Lin!"

"Hello, Teacher Lin!"

"Hehehe..." Hearing them call her "Teacher," Lin Xiaohong, who had been reserved about sitting with students for the first time, suddenly broke into a silly, wide grin. As a teaching assistant, she usually just ran errands for the department head and rarely interacted with students, spending most of her time shuttling between professors' offices. She had never been called "Teacher" before; in the office, everyone just called her "Little Lin" or "Little Hong." Heavens, she, Lin Xiaohong, had actually become a teacher one day!

"Are you alright?" Cheng Kaiyan asked, concerned by her sudden, inexplicable giggling.

"Ahem... The students are respectful and kind to their elders and teachers; I am deeply gratified," Lin Xiaohong said with feigned solemnity.

Under the girls' probing, Lin Xiaohong inevitably spilled everything, and her background was laid bare.

"Teacher Lin is really interesting."

"What's interesting about her?"

"Her naivety is interesting. Even more so than Ji Qinglan."

The girls exchanged glances, and Zhao Ruixue felt a wave of relief. *That’s right,* she thought, *this Teacher Lin isn’t even pretty, just plain at best. Cheng Kaiyan would never be interested in her. Why was I so worried? Ugh! Who was worried anyway!*

After dinner, Cheng Kaiyan noticed the sky had darkened and prepared to leave, but the group stopped him.

"Why the rush, Teacher Xiao Cheng? There’s something exciting happening tonight; don't you want to see it?"

"What's so exciting? Is it good?"

"It’s a kind of excitement you wouldn't expect from a bored man like you! I guarantee once you come, you won't want to leave!"

"Alright then!" Cheng Kaiyan swallowed, feeling intrigued. It definitely wasn't for anything indecent...

By 6:30 PM, the sky was completely dark. A group of students in eclectic outfits arrived carrying a large four-speaker cassette player. The lights in the room were dimmed, leaving only one or two in the corner. Then, with a hum from the player, a mellifluous melody began to flow from the speakers—a tune familiar to Cheng Kaiyan:

*Sweet honey,*
*Your smile is sweet as honey,*
*Like flowers blooming in the spring breeze...*

Dancing along with the music were the students of the Normal University. Boys and girls found their partners, holding hands and swaying their bodies in rhythmic steps. Cheng Kaiyan watched as some of the less skilled boys repeatedly stepped on their partners' toes, causing them to pull away in annoyance. Of course, there were the skilled ones who danced with light, agile steps, occasionally lifting a hand to spin their partners around.

"This is what you called exciting?"

"That's it?" Cheng Kaiyan sighed. He had expected something more.

Of course. It was early 1980. As the capital, Beijing was seeing a cultural resurgence alongside the Reform and Opening-up, and social dancing was becoming a trendy campus activity. Students were enthusiastic about dancing; on weekends or holidays, enthusiasts would sneak in a machine to dance, and with final exams now over, organizing a dance party was perfectly normal. Students from other schools—Peking University, Tsinghua, Beijing University of Posts and Telecommunications—would even flock to Beijing Normal University.

Why? Because Beijing Normal University had many female students. There was a saying: "Poor Tsinghua, rich Peking U, look for a wife at Normal U." The "Normal U students" often used these jokes to tease themselves.

"What do you think? After so many years in the southern border, you've never seen anything like this, have you? Boys holding girls' hands, one hand clasped, the other around the waist or back—isn't it awfully vulgar?" Zhao Ruixue asked softly, standing by his side.

"I wouldn't call it vulgar... It's just a form of rebellion against oppression," Cheng Kaiyan shook his head. The southern border wasn't as open as Beijing; there, holding a girl’s waist or hand could be seen as hooliganism, and you could end up in jail for it.

The university didn't officially encourage dance parties, but they didn't oppose them either, adopting a "see no evil" attitude. It wasn't just that students needed this vibrant expression to vent decades of social suppression; even teachers joined in—many of them were bachelors, too.

After a while, the outspoken Yang Mengshan couldn't stand the hesitation of the other couples. "These two are so indecisive! If you're going to dance, dance; if not, don't! Acting like dancing together means you're a couple—how pretentious!"

"Exactly," others agreed. "Ruixue, teach him! Don't be so shy, man."

"How about I teach you?" Zhao Ruixue’s face flushed as she spoke softly.

"Sure, but don't mind if I'm not very good," Cheng Kaiyan replied. It was just a social dance, after all. He had never danced before, not even in the art troupe, as he had been a musician who rarely appeared on stage. He took off his military overcoat and gestured for her to lead.

"Left hand holds my right, right hand around my waist..."

"Ready, and..."

Zhao Ruixue felt the warmth of his palm against her waist, sending a jolt straight to her brain. She trembled slightly, but as the music flowed, she relaxed, surprised to find that Cheng Kaiyan wasn't stepping on her feet at all. On the contrary, he learned quickly, his movements becoming fluid. Soon, they were moving in perfect harmony, like sprites on the floor.

Before long, they attracted many onlookers. "Isn't that Zhao Ruixue from the Chinese Department? Who is that boy?"

"I don't know."

"He's a teaching assistant in the Chinese Department, I think. Cheng, something like that. He’s very handsome. Rumor has it he got in through connections and only has a high school diploma, but he’s Professor Jiang's right-hand man. Several girls in our class really like him..."

In the corner, Song Jianchun watched them dance, a bitter taste in his mouth. He knew it was just a dance, but it still stung.

"There’s a poetry competition in the school auditorium in a few days, Jianchun. You’re participating, right? Remember to treat us all if you win."

"Sure."

*I heard teachers are participating too. I wonder if he will,* Song Jianchun thought. He acknowledged this Teacher Cheng’s talent in children's literature, but poetry was a pursuit of pure beauty. *I won't necessarily lose to him,* he told himself.

After finishing the dance with Zhao Ruixue, Ji Qinglan and the others, seeing how well he moved, swarmed him to dance. After five consecutive dances, he was finally left alone, though he had been dragged down by their poor skills and stepped on several times.

By 8:00 PM, the dance ended, and everyone headed home. Before leaving, the girls called out, "Great writer, work hard for the poetry competition the day after tomorrow! If you win, you're treating us to a meal!"