The second classroom held the third and fourth grades and was led by Sun Sihai. Here, the children were working from identical, new textbooks. When questioned, the pupils said that Teacher Sun had bought the books for them. Sun Sihai merely said that he had used the money raised from the children's own hard work. Station-Head Wan started to question him more closely but Principal Yu cut him off and asked him to take a look at the first and second grade room. That class was taken by Deng Youmi, who resumed his earlier topic of conversation by pointing at each child and explaining the lengths he had gone to get them to enroll.
Station-Head Wan suddenly cut him off in mid flow. "How many pupils enrolled this year?"
"Forty-two," Deng Youmi replied.
"So tell me why I only count twenty-four here?"
"The others have asked for leave."
"Are their desks and chairs on leave as well? Old Yu, you should make a self-criticism immediately. It's nearly time for the enrolment checks under the Compulsory Education Law. We don't want the school to fail the inspection."
Deng Youmi, red-faced, did not say a word. Principal Yu nodded repeatedly. A small, cold smile crossed Sun Sihai's face. Yingcai watched them all surreptitiously and then later, while he put his things away in his room, said to his uncle that he did not think the three teachers liked each other very much. Station-Head Wan told him not to meddle in other people's affairs, and urged him to remember the relationship between national contradictions and class contradictions. His uncle said that up here, Yingcai was barely the same nationality as the other teachers—he was an outsider and they would see him as an invader. Yingcai pretended to follow all this.
A flat wooden box hung on the wall of Yingcai's room. Yingcai took it down, and inside found an instrument the likes of which he had never seen before. There was a row of keys numbered from one to seven and beneath that several metal strings. He plucked one string and it produced a gravelly sound much like Principal Yu's voice.
"What is this instrument?" Yingcai asked.
Without looking round, the station head continued to fix the mosquito net in place. "What's written on it?"
Yingcai took off his glasses and looked more closely. Sure enough, the casing was stamped with characters that read Phoenix Zither and, beneath that, was another row of small writing: Made in the People's Republic of China at the Dongfeng Folk Instruments Factory, Beijing. Yingcai finished tidying the room, then put his copy of A Small Town Youth carefully next to his bed.
When Principal Yu stopped by, he noticed the book. "I know the author. He used to be a community teacher like you. We were at a meeting together once. He was very lucky to change profession, or else I fear he would be in the same position as I am now."
Yingcai wanted to ask more, but Station-Head Wan said, "Old Yu, are you trying to dampen the kid's spirits?"
"Oh I wouldn't dare. Damp would just aggravate this rheumatism of mine. It's so bad I worry that even my hair has swollen joints."
Just then, classes finished. Later, as Yingcai grew to learn the school routines, he realised that school started later and finished earlier than was normal elsewhere because the children's homes were so scattered across the mountains. This meant there were only two lessons a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. During the break, some children ran off towards the pass through the mountains, and others climbed up to the peak. Yingcai wondered what they were doing, and Deng Youmi explained that they were gathering mushrooms and weeds.