Lux Transmigrates

In September, Shanghai’s lingering autumn heat refused to leave. At half past six in the morning, the sunlight was already scorching as it slanted across the glass doors of the Jing’an District Jing’an Temple Subdistrict Community Service Center. Geng Laxike stood at the entrance, giving the collar of her cream-colored business suit one last adjustment as she checked her reflection on her phone screen. Then she bent down and brushed a tiny fallen leaf from her shoe. It was a habit she had kept for years. Even when facing a group of “students” whose average age was sixty-seven, she had to maintain a professional yet approachable air.

As head of curriculum development at the subdistrict’s senior college, Geng Laxike had an office at the far end of the third floor of the service center. Through the door, she could see the terrace at the end of the corridor, where several rose bushes given to her by students were growing. She had just set her briefcase on the desk when the landline rang. The caller ID read “Uncle Zhang.” She didn’t even need to answer to know it was probably about the new smartphone photography class starting this week.