I Was Ten Years Old That Year

About This Novel

In the winter of my sixth grade year, a new Chinese teacher came to the school. His surname was Chen. He had just graduated from the normal school and was a few years older than me. During her first class, she wrote a line on the blackboard: "Be poor and strong, and you will never fall into the clouds." She explained these seven words, and then asked who in the class thought they fit this sentence best. No one raised their hands. She walked off the podium and when she passed by me, she lowered her head and glanced at the old book I put on the corner of the table - the cover was still the calendar paper my mother used to wrap, and the edges were yellowed and curled, but every page inside was not dog-eared. She picked it up, turned it over, and then put it back. She said nothing.

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