Being handed a good person card for the first time, Gong Nanxing awkwardly turned his face away and immediately changed the subject.
“Are you dull or what? Can’t you record audio on your phone?”
“The memory is not enough.”
Gong Nanxing’s vicious and sharp tongue repeatedly suffered defeat in front of the honest and naive Little Bull. He had no choice but to adjust his mindset through deep breaths, time and time again.
“Ahem. Today, I will start by teaching you the most basic pinyin initials and finals. Remember, I am only teaching this once, and you can practice the rest on your own.”
Being obedient, Little Bull nodded like garlic pounding in a mortar. His voice recorder was turned on, his notebook was opened, and the tip of his ballpoint pen was ready to drop at any moment. Gong Nanxing could find no fault with his attitude, so he could only pull out his own fountain pen and swiftly scribble down the initials and finals charts in the brand-new notebook.
“Read it once for me to hear.”
Mr. Gong cast a sideways glance, causing Little Bull’s back to instantly tense up. Swallowing hard, he carefully held up the notebook on the desk and stammered. Listening to those erratic tones, Gong Nanxing furrowed his brow deeper and deeper until he finally closed his eyes altogether.
“Stop, stop, stop. Don’t trill your tongue; there’s no need for that.”
Gong Nanxing fiercely pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a splitting headache coming on. Heaven knew what kind of massive burden he had brought upon himself. The retroflex and dental initials were indistinguishable, the N and L sounds tangled with each other, and the H and F sounds blended together, let alone trying to get any of the front and back nasal sounds right.
“Where are you from?”
“I am from the mountains, hehe.” Little Bull smiled bashfully, his cheeks glowing red beneath his dark skin. Since Gong Nanxing couldn’t bring himself to scold him, he had no choice but to harden his heart and force himself through it.
“Read after me.”
Once upon a time, Gong Nanxing had laughed at his own eldest brother for looking utterly clueless when trying to teach his daughter how to speak. Now, facing Little Bull, who was baring his teeth while trying to mimic him, he couldn’t quite bring himself to laugh either. Mostly because his usual demeanor and conduct were somewhat lacking in human warmth, and mocking a mountain child’s Mandarin would truly be grounds for sending him straight to hell.
“Yi, ou, you. You. Read.” Gong Nanxing deliberately slowed down his speaking pace, pointing and tracing the initials and finals, carefully teaching pronunciation character by character.
Taking a deep breath as if using his mouth for the very first time, Little Bull let out two strange, forceful cries: “Yo, yo!”
Who could possibly keep a straight composure against that?
Off to hell I go! Gong Nanxing put down his notebook, stopped the recorder, and collapsed laughing onto the sofa.
Although Little Bull knew he was being laughed at, he had never seen the usually stern Mr. Gong laugh like this. For a moment, he didn’t feel awkward at all. He just let out a couple of chuckles of his own and stared blankly at Gong Nanxing.
So when Mr. Gong laughs heartily, his brows and eyes unfold, and the deep shadows in his eye sockets completely disappear. Mr. Gong is much fairer than I am, so when he laughs out loud, the tip of his nose and his cheeks turn pink. But laughing until he cries is going a bit too far, right? Realizing it a beat too late, Little Bull felt a little sad.
Seeing Little Bull slightly turn his face away, Gong Nanxing seemed to notice his unconsciously pouted lips. Only then did he manage to gather enough strength from his weakened, laughing body to sit up and say, “Don’t rush, take your time learning. Wait here for a second.”
Watching Mr. Gong stand up and head toward the kitchen, curiosity momentarily overpowered Little Bull’s hurt feelings. He stretched his neck and craned forward to look around for a moment before Gong Nanxing returned, biting into an apple and holding a chopstick.
“Bite down.” The chopstick was thrust horizontally into Little Bull’s mouth. He bared his teeth while waiting for Gong Nanxing’s next instruction, and the latter, biting his apple, reached out and tapped the pinyin chart in the notebook again. “Don’t look at me; keep reading.”
“Mm.”
“If the chopstick drops, it means your pronunciation position is wrong. Start over.”
This time, Gong Nanxing didn’t dare stare at Little Bull while teaching. He ate his apple and looked at work information to distract himself, refusing to let a repeat of that near-choking laughter ruin his cold, aloof persona. Even so, his ears acutely captured the flaws in Little Bull’s pronunciation, and he tapped the back of his hand as a reminder to adjust.
“When making retroflex sounds, your tongue needs to be higher than the chopstick. Also, follow the rhythm I’m tapping out for you. Don’t drag out the tail of the sound so long.”
After repeatedly catching falling chopsticks and slapping the back of his hand to keep rhythm, an hour and half of practice left Little Bull drenched in sweat, but he finally managed to read the entire pinyin chart smoothly.
“All right, that’s it for today. There are still some issues with the tones, so go back and practice following my recording. Make sure you memorize all the pronunciation placements.”
“Mm! I understood!” Seeing progress in his studies, Little Bull was also very happy. Even though Gong Nanxing laughed at him, his teaching was truly efficient and easy to remember. He stood up, packed his things, and immediately headed straight to the entryway to grab his tools and start cleaning.
“Don’t rush! Have an apple.” Gong Nanxing wanted to say that this kid was far too earnest, starting chores the second class ended, which made him feel all the more like a scoundrel.
“Not eating, at home there are apples too many. When I can’t sell them, I eat them for meals.”
“You eat them out.”
“Out, outside.”
“Yes, right. Then wait a moment, let me pack some things for you to take back to school.” Otherwise, my conscience won’t let me rest. Thinking of this, Gong Nanxing seriously began calculating what he had at home that Little Bull could easily carry back.
No need, no need! I already feel bad enough that you took the trouble to teach me, how could I take your things too? Mr. Gong, you really are so different from what I imagined. I used to think design directors were the bad-tempered kind with high-pitched, delicate voices.
“Where did you get such a stereotype?” Was this kid thinking of me as some sort of eunuch from the start? Gong Nanxing swept a cold glance over him. Leaning against the mop, Little Bull hurriedly snapped back to reality and continued his diligent, non-stop cleaning.
“Stop watching weird TV shows.”
“Not me, it was my mother.” Little Bull muttered in a voice too soft to hear.
It was only after Little Bull finished cleaning up all the housework and sent a message saying he had caught the last subway that Gong Nanxing felt this grueling day had finally come to an end. After washing up and lying in bed, he quietly stared at the ceiling, mentally calculating how much exposure and conversion could be brought if Little Bull learned Mandarin well enough to participate in live streams. As he thought about it, his eyes wandered around the bedroom, which had been tidied to a pristine finish. Gong Nanxing finally let out a long sigh and closed his eyes.
Forget it, whatever. At least I only have to suffer through the cow coming to work two or three days a week. This Mou Asu better genuinely be worth this much money!
Just as he had finished doing mental preparation for himself the previous night, Gong Nanxing returned to his office after the morning meeting the next day only to spot a familiar dark shadow hovering near the potted plants.
“Didn’t I tell you that you don’t need to cook for me? I can’t eat stir-fried. Wait, what is this? Pasta?”
The familiar, timid little black cow sitting across from him, the familiar washed-out backpack, and the familiar steel lunch box had actually conjured up a Western meal for Gong Nanxing. For a moment, even someone as silver-tongued as him was left completely stunned on the spot.
I took a gig assembling exhibition boards near the New Media Center. I asked Sister Qiao Xi and she said you hadn’t eaten yet, so I went to my coworker’s house nearby who lives close by and made this pasta for you. I used to work part-time in a Western restaurant, so don’t worry, it tastes great!
The taste was indeed good, but Gong Nanxing certainly hadn’t reached the point of starvation where a student had to break his back and trudge a long distance to deliver food to him.
“You’re out working odd jobs all day like this, don’t you have classes?”
I do. I had a six o’clock early class this morning, and came straight over to work after class.
Hearing this, Gong Nanxing stopped asking questions. If he wasn’t facing hardships, a student of Little Bull’s age wouldn’t work this desperately to make money. It was no wonder that earlier, mentioning the dubbing fees had nearly scared the kid into almost selling himself into indentured servitude as a long-term laborer.
“What I said to you before about the dubbing costs, don’t take it to heart. Now that we’ve talked it through, you just need to focus on learning Mandarin well, and you don’t have to worry about money being deducted.”
Gong Nanxing quietly patched up the crime he had committed earlier. Hearing these words, Little Bull’s eyes indeed lit up with happiness! Not only did he hand over three good person cards to him, but he also promised that even so, he wouldn’t slack off in his studies.
Why on earth do you have to trick an honest person? For twenty-six years of his life, Gong Nanxing began to despise his own mercenary nature for the very first time, well, at least regarding this bit involving Little Bull. Having finished despising himself, he had to put on an affable expression and inquire about Little Bull’s academics. After all, studying was his primary pursuit and he shouldn’t put the cart before the horse. Only when he learned that Little Bull’s GPA was high enough to secure a low-income student scholarship did he finally let out a sigh of relief.
The end of this meal was Little Bull washing the lunch box clean and leaving happily, leaving Gong Nanxing standing by the floor-to-ceiling window watching his distant figure ride away on his little electric scooter. In the eyes of Qiao Xi, who had just pushed open the door and walked in, he looked somewhat like an old father filled with poignant melancholy.
“Assistant Qiao, do you think it’s appropriate for me to sponsor Little Bull?”