45,100 Things
The night wind whistled by. After the gas stove was turned off, the rooftop lost its previously bustling atmosphere.
The boys were silent at first, perhaps stumped by the question, or maybe thinking about how best to retort.
"Teacher, are you about to start lecturing us?" Chen Jianghe asked.
"Going to educate us now, you just couldn't hold back!" Qin Ao added.
"Does wanting to idle away count?" Qi Liang lazily raised his hand.
"Of course idling away counts," Lin Wanxing said with a laugh.
"If that counts, then does wanting to eat Nanxiang Steamed Buns count too?"
"Sure, but aren't Xishengyuan's buns better?" Lin Wanxing replied.
"Sweet buns aren't even fit for dogs!" Zheng Feiyang exclaimed angrily.
The boys started chatting again, one after another.
Lin Wanxing leaned against the railing, quietly listening to their conversation. Her hair tie was loose, and the wind lifted strands of her hair.
At some point, when someone failed to pick up where another left off, a brief silence fell over the rooftop. The moon hung low in the night sky, and Lin Wanxing continued to watch them quietly.
"Teacher, what are you thinking about?" Chen Weidong couldn't help but ask.
"I was wondering if you'd still like to talk about this topic—I mean, about 'what you want to do,'" she said.
"How would we talk about it? We're not the type to discuss these things."
"Yeah, there are too many things we want to do. What's the point of talking about them?"
"Too many?" Lin Wanxing asked thoughtfully, curious.
"Of course there are! Didn't you say even wanting to eat something counts?"
"Right."
"Then there really are countless things!" Lin Lu happily raised his voice.
"Is that so? That puts my mind at ease," Lin Wanxing said cheerfully as she headed toward her room. Shortly after, she returned to the rooftop dining table, holding a draft notebook in her hand and with a bunch of colorful pens bulging in her pocket.
Casually, she placed the notebook on the railing at the edge of the rooftop and opened it.
Facing the vast sports field, she tore off the first blank page with a "rip."
The students stared in astonishment.
Then the second, the third...
The night breeze rustled, causing the light blue-lined draft papers to flutter vigorously in the night air.
Finally, after tearing enough pages, Lin Wanxing straightened the stack in her hand, turned around, and walked over to the students.
Under the dazed gazes of the boys, she handed each of them a piece of paper, moving from left to right.
"Wh-what's this for?" Qin Ao stammered.
"Write it down," Lin Wanxing said.
"Write what?"
"All the things you want to do in the future," she explained, pulling the colorful pens from her pocket. She then distributed the pens, moving from right to left.
The boys stood frozen, holding the paper and pens.
After a moment, they slowly came to their senses: "You want us to write them down?"
"Are you kidding? Is this necessary?"
"I'm not kidding," Lin Wanxing said seriously, standing before them. "Didn't you say there are many things you want to do in the future? Writing some of them down shouldn't be too hard, right?"
The boys' faces looked somewhat darkened in the night, their expressions puzzled as they glanced down at the white draft paper in their hands.
Lin Wanxing said, "When I was in college, our teacher had us write down 100 things we wanted to do. I'll make it easier for you—I think 50 will be enough.""So you're saying we're empty-headed?" Qi Liang suddenly spoke up.
"I didn't mean that. I'm just worried this paper isn't big enough for everything you want to write," Lin Wanxing said.
"Can't we just ask for more if we run out of space?" Qin Ao interjected abruptly.
Lin Wanxing smiled. "Fair point."
"What if I don't want to write anything?" the troublemaker Chen Jianghe suddenly asked.
"That would be perfect! Someone would have to clean up the tables then!" Lin Wanxing said cheerfully.
The rooftop still carried the lingering aroma of hot pot broth, while the night breeze brought a natural chill.
Lin Wanxing spoke slowly: "Don't worry too much. If you really don't want to write, you can just hand the paper and pen back to me and leave. But I think this is actually a good opportunity. Why not try asking yourselves?"
—
The following time didn't pass particularly quickly.
At least for the students, it felt like quite a long period.
The boys hesitated at first, remaining frozen with their paper and pens like statues for some time.
Then, the first person moved.
Fu Xinshu dragged a chair over to the hot pot table, pushed aside some condiment dishes, and started writing.
It seemed that once someone had taken the first spot, the other boys realized they needed to act quickly, or they wouldn't even get a place to write.
So in a flurry of activity, some dragged plastic chairs, those who couldn't get chairs started pulling bricks from the rooftop pile to sit on, and those with nowhere else simply sat on the ground.
At first, everyone wrote quickly.
After all, the options were endless - places they wanted to eat, things they wanted to do, things they wanted to possess...
The world was so colorful, and they were so young - there were truly too many things they could do.
Qi Liang characteristically wrote "eat and wait for death" as his first item.
Qin Ao happened to be writing "want to earn 1 million."
Lin Lu maintained his wish of "want to eat Nanxiang Steamed Buns."
While Chen Jianghe was writing "want to watch a match at Wimbledon."
The scratching of pen tips on paper created soft rustling sounds on the rooftop. Lin Wanxing walked around and came to Wang Fa's side.
From the moment she started talking with the students, the coach had found the only lounge chair on the rooftop. He wasn't smoking or playing on his phone, just lying there with his eyes closed in the night, as if asleep.
Lin Wanxing took a sheet from the torn notebook paper and placed it on the armrest of the lounge chair.
He didn't open his eyes, his eyelashes casting dense shadows.
His breathing remained even.
Lin Wanxing quietly added a pencil, weighing it down with the paper.
Just then, Wang Fa opened his eyes.
Their gazes met.
The young man had typically light-colored pupils, a high, straight nose bridge, and very fair skin. In that hazy night moment, Lin Wanxing wondered if he might have some mixed heritage.
This thought came without reason - after all, a girl's appreciation for a handsome guy also comes without reason.
Lin Wanxing smiled and blinked, indicating the paper and pen on the armrest. Without giving Wang Fa a chance to speak, she turned and walked away.
Time always passes quickly at first, then gradually slows down.
The real difficulty of writing these 100 things came later.
After the freewriting of brainstorming, facing the large blank spaces left on the paper, it seemed time to think more carefully.
Lin Wanxing rummaged through the snacks she bought today and opened a bag of strawberry-flavored Oishi Corn Curls. Standing by the railing, she ate while observing the students.The people on the rooftop were now scattered all over.
Some were by the table, some had already gone inside the room, and others leaned against the railing lost in thought. There were even some scratching their heads, trying to sneak a peek at what others had written.
Lin Wanxing immediately called them out: "Write your own stuff, please pay attention, that student over there."
"But I can't think of anything!" said Yu Ming, who had just peeked and got caught.
"Have you written a hundred items yet?"
He shook his head.
"Fifty?"
Still shaking his head.
"Think a bit more..." Lin Wanxing said, "Maybe broaden the scope a little. For example, what you want to achieve in the future, what you want to do, what career you want to pursue—you can write it all down."
"Can I write about wanting to go to space?"
"I think that's fine," Lin Wanxing added. "This is your future. The world of imagination can hold all sorts of magnificent possibilities. But I hope you'll try to think more about what you truly want to do."
The air grew quiet as the boys started trying to write more. Some were making things up, while others were seriously contemplating.
The minute hand moved forward a few more notches.
Suddenly, Yu Ming sprawled flat on his back on the concrete floor and let out a long groan: "I can't write anymore!"
One by one, the students put down their pens.
At that moment, Lin Lu spoke up as if he couldn't hold back any longer: "Teacher, I'll be honest with you—it's not that we want to dampen your enthusiasm!"
"Huh?"
"We've had classes like this before. You just want us to find our life goals, right?"
Zheng Feiyang chimed in: "Yeah, we have mental health classes, and we even took that... what's it called? Career something test?"
Lin Wanxing wasn't surprised. Since they were in their final year of high school, it was natural for the school to offer guidance courses on life, goals, and choices for graduates.
"Something like a career interest scale? MBTI?" Lin Wanxing asked with interest. "That's quite professional."
"I don't remember exactly, but there were a lot of questions," Lin Lu said.
"Oh, so do you think such classes are useful?" Lin Wanxing asked.
"Should I be honest?" Lin Lu asked timidly.
"Go ahead."
"I don't think they're useful," Lin Lu said, patting his chest. "We're already immune to all that, you know? It's useless."
"Right, a lot of it is unrealistic," Qin Ao said matter-of-factly. "When my elementary school teacher asked me about my future dreams, I said I wanted to be a scientist. But am I cut out for that?"
"If we could do whatever we wanted and have whatever we desired, we really would be able to go to space," Chen Jianghe said coldly.
"Do the rest of you feel the same way?" Lin Wanxing looked at the others who hadn't spoken.
The students exchanged glances, but no one said anything. Finally, Lin Wanxing looked at Fu Xinshu.
"Teacher Lin," Fu Xinshu pursed his lips, then mustered up his courage to speak. "We're not like you. You must have succeeded in everything you've done. But for us, many things are beyond our reach. Even if we write all this down and feel happy while imagining it, most of it is impossible to achieve."
Most of it is just thinking at the crossroads—thinking is enough.
"Hmm," Lin Wanxing listened carefully to their perspectives.
"Then why are you making us go through all this trouble?""First of all, I'm not trying to help you find your life purpose. After all, that's a huge proposition." Lin Wanxing set down the snack in her hand, gently brushing off the crumbs as she spoke. "Regarding this, I have a quote here that I can recite for you. It comes from Abraham Maslow, the founder of our 'Humanistic Psychology.' Translated into Chinese, it goes like this—'Knowing what you want is not an ordinary thing. It's a rare and difficult psychological achievement.'"
The students fell silent for a moment.
Qi Liang smacked his lips, savoring the words: "Teacher, your Chinese translation of that sounds really impressive."
"Even more pretentious than quoting famous sayings."
Lin Wanxing was amused: "But it's the truth," she said. "We ordinary people, as we grow up and accumulate life experiences, constantly develop new ideas. When I was little, I wanted to be a cotton candy vendor on the street. Later, when I grew up, I didn't want to do that anymore. So those who know what they want from childhood and spend their whole lives working to achieve it are truly, truly remarkable. That is indeed their talent, a great psychological achievement."
"If that's the case, why are you making us write these things? Just to make us think?" Qin Ao shook the draft paper in his hand.
"No." Lin Wanxing turned to Fu Xinshu, speaking very gently, "I mean to say, if there's anything here that you believe is absolutely impossible to achieve, then cross it out."
"What do you mean?"
"What I mean is, right now, please cross out 10 things you've written." In the evening breeze, Lin Wanxing spoke with great seriousness.
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