Transmigration: Flirted with My Childhood Sweetheart
Chapter 398 - 397: Skilled Work

Chapter 398: Chapter 397: Skilled Work

Principal Wu, like a child who had done something wrong, gripped the stylus and smiled at Lin Nianhe: "It’s nothing serious... cough cough, no fever, just a cough, it’s just a cold."

She carefully placed the stylus down and continued, "I just want to finish carving the wax paper as soon as possible to teach the students more... cough cough cough..."

Lin Nianhe looked at her, helpless.

That night, they talked by candlelight, Principal Wu and Lin Nianhe secretly plotted a major undertaking.

If the textbooks were substandard, they would abandon them and refer to textbooks from ten years ago to teach students the truly substantial knowledge.

Undoubtedly, this was very risky; if not for knowing that the darkest hour was about to pass, Lin Nianhe wouldn’t dare to do such a thing.

Of course, their courage to undertake this also stemmed from Wong Xiao and Feng Yuanshan’s attitude toward education.

No need to mention Feng Yuanshan, as for Wong Xiao...

The mimeograph machine was borrowed from him, and he also approved the wax paper and printing paper.

Was he a leader? No, he was a conspirator!

Lin Nianhe was confident that as long as she could revive the textile factory and boost the economy of Lan County, Wong Xiao would even dare to assist her in printing the Bible at his place.

From the moment Lin Nianhe moved the mimeograph machine out of the commune yesterday, Wong Xiaokou got mysteriously dragged into this conspiracy.

Lin Nianhe refilled Principal Wu’s tea mug with hot water, then swiftly took the stylus and wax paper, taking the metal plate on the table as well.

She flicked her braid back, "With that cough, better steer clear of the mimeograph machine. The smell of the ink is strong, and it’s uncomfortable if it chokes you. With so many of us here, can’t we handle this?"

"Nianhe..."

"You need to steer the ship," Lin Nianhe looked at her with a smile, "There are long days ahead, you can’t fall now."

Principal Wu wanted to struggle further, but knowing she couldn’t win against Lin Nianhe, resigned herself to lying down, waving at her, "Go on, I’ll take a nap."

"Alright," Lin Nianhe said, "That cold medicine was given to you by Sister Lirong, it’s from the provincial city, remember to take it."

"Got it."

After Lin Nianhe left, Principal Wu lay for a while, then sat up and took out the packet.

It had the dosage written on it: one tablet each time, three times a day.

Without hesitation, she took two pills.

She needed to recover quickly.

Lin Nianhe returned to the first-grade office holding the materials; it was time for physical education, and the students were running on the playground led by Wen Lan, leaving the classroom very quiet.

She furrowed her brows as she looked at the wax paper and stylus, her face filled with sorrow.

The operation of the mimeograph was completely manual; it required carving the print content on the wax paper with a stylus first, and then printing sheet by sheet with ink.

While the task sounded simple, it was immensely difficult in practice. There could be no mistakes in carving the wax paper, as any slip could tear it, ruining the print with ink spots; printing too had its finesse— the ink application couldn’t be too much or too little, the pressure neither too high nor too low. It was not only laborious but also required skill.

Lin Nianhe truly was not cut out for this job. Not only that, she hadn’t even seen a mimeograph before yesterday.

After hesitating for a moment, she resolutely picked up the cold stylus.

The first stroke was too light, not breaking the wax paper.

The second attempt at the first stroke was also light, leaving only a faint white mark on the wax paper.

The third attempt at the first stroke—perfect, it broke through, tearing a triangular hole.

She didn’t throw away this wax paper and continued to practice.

The next first stroke was too heavy;

Then again, too light...

Continuing...

Ten minutes later—

"Let me go chop the corn!" shouted Nianhe with desperation.

Twenty minutes later—

"Truly always compliant, truly always obtaining nature; always compliant leads to tranquility, always becoming peaceful..."

Thirty minutes later—

"..."

Forty minutes later—

"This pen is defeating me."

"This paper is also defeating me."

"This mimeograph machine should never have been invented."

Watching their endlessly muttering Teacher Lin, the first-grade students unanimously agreed to let Niuwa go and check on her.

As the hope of the class, Niuwa took out a fruit candy he had saved for Lin Nianhe from his little schoolbag and walked over to her: "Teacher Hehe, have some candy."

Lin Nianhe, massaging her sore neck, looked up at him and forced a smile: "I won’t have any, you keep it."

Niuwa blinked his eyes, peeked at the paper in her hand, and then... the little guy fell silent too.

This piece of wax paper had indeed endured suffering it should not have; you could count the intact characters on the page on one hand, and the holes in the paper were as numerous as sesame seeds on a sesame bun.

Niuwa didn’t know what Lin Nianhe was trying to do, but his intuition told him that Sister Hehe must have encountered a big trouble.

He advised, "Teacher Hehe, take a break for a bit and then continue. Didn’t you say that when something doesn’t go well, it’s good to do something else and change your mood to find inspiration easier?"

Lin Nianhe sighed softly, putting down the hot iron pen.

Indeed, she couldn’t continue anymore—the next class was hers.

The matter of the wax papers kept lingering in Lin Nianhe’s mind, no helping it, Principal Wu was in poor health, and she absolutely couldn’t let him handle such strenuous tasks.

After school, she took a stack of wax papers, cardboard, and the iron pen back to the Educated Youth Corps.

Wang Shumei saw what she was carrying and couldn’t help but sigh, asking, "I just remembered, why did you bring a mimeograph machine back?"

Lin Nianhe, feeling slightly wilted, lazily replied, "To print stuff."

"Print tests?" Wang Xue chimed in, "Then there’s no need to bring the mimeograph machine back."

None of the elementary or some secondary schools in the commune had a mimeograph machine—they had to borrow one from the commune whenever they needed to print anything. Their village elementary was the first in the commune to have one.

Lin Nianhe pursed her lips, and said, "Let’s go, back to the meeting!"

The matter of revising the teaching materials could be hidden from others, but not from the teachers.

Wang Shumei contributed her house and called Wang Dong and Zhou Chujiang over as well.

Lin Nianhe paced back and forth in the room before saying, "The families of our village’s students are not well-off; they cut costs here and there to afford education. I believe as teachers we have the duty to impart more knowledge, so I suggested to Principal Wu that we adjust the teaching content based on the textbooks from ten years ago."

Everyone’s eyes widened upon hearing this.

Lin Nianhe cleared her throat and said, "This was my idea, and it has nothing to do with Principal Wu. If anything happens, I’ll take the responsibility myself."

No one spoke, Zhou Chujiang stood up; his eyes wide with astonishment, he stared at Lin Nianhe, "Teacher Lin, do you realize the trouble you could face if this gets out!"

Lin Nianhe remained composed: "I know, so if any of you have objections or concerns, you can keep using the current textbooks, I can understand."

No one spoke again, but Zhou Chujiang made a surprising gesture that made everyone’s jaws drop.

He pounded his chest, full of bold enthusiasm and a grin on his face, "I’m not afraid, I’ve long thought that the current textbooks are just a pile of nonsense! How can we nurture the writers and poets of the new era with such texts? I’m going back to write a new teaching plan right now!"

He was rubbing his hands and about to rush out.

Lin Nianhe was stunned.

Ever since Zhou Chujiang had been rejected by her repeatedly, he had become almost invisible, just attending classes, eating, and sleeping, not even reciting poetry anymore.

She had never imagined that the first person to stand up and support this "education reform" would be him.