Future Pet Shop

Chapter 63: The World is So Big, I Want to Go See It

In a quiet, insular county town, Sun Qian walked through the gates of No. 1 High School. She had just graduated from university last year, and her family had pulled some strings to get her a job that, in their eyes, was very stable and respectable. All she had to do was teach for a year or two, then find a promising young man from a similar background to marry. After getting married and having children, her life would be considered complete.

But that was all her parents’ point of view. Over the past year, Sun Qian had grown weary of this predictable, ripple-free existence. Most importantly, this kind of life seemed to be taking her further and further away from her dreams.

Sun Qian had studied music in university, and her dream was to become an accomplished musician. Yet here she was, a music teacher in a high school where almost no one genuinely cared about music. Even the few students who’d decided to apply to college on the arts track merely saw music as a stepping stone for admission.

When she first returned to this little county town, Sun Qian had thought she would forget her musical dreams and live out her life in this insular yet relaxed town according to her parents’ plans. After all, she had followed her parents’ plans her entire life: studying music at their behest, applying to university at their behest, and coming home to work at their behest.

On the surface, it all seemed fine. But every night when she lay in bed, she would toss and turn, unable to fall asleep. Opening her WeChat Moments, she saw a classmate who had joined a symphony orchestra, another who had uploaded their original songs to an online platform, and one studying abroad who had posted photos from a visit to the Golden Hall in Vienna.

’None of them forgot their musical dreams. But me? Am I really going to spend my whole life in my hometown, teaching one student after another who has absolutely no love for music?’

Every morning when she woke, she would find her pillow damp with tears. Perhaps they were the tears of resentment for a dream she had lost.

Her days were a routine: at work, she’d listen to colleagues spread mindless gossip; after work, she’d go on blind dates with the town’s "promising young men," just as her parents demanded. But these young men, so highly approved of by her parents, did nothing to make her heart skip a beat.

It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with these men. In truth, she barely remembered them. ’I’m only twenty-three. Am I really supposed to spend the rest of my life with a man I met on a blind date?’ Every time she thought about it, a sense of dread washed over her. ’Shouldn’t marriage start with love?’

"Sun Qian, your talent really stood out in our graduating class. It pains me to see you just letting it go to waste," her classmates would say.

Her inability to adjust to life back home, coupled with her classmates’ encouragement, slowly began to change her mind. ’Maybe I should give it another try?’ Her gaze fell upon the guitar hanging on the wall.

Once that idea took root, it spread like wildfire, eventually overwhelming her deference to her parents and her worries about the future. Finally, one day, she mustered the courage to tell her parents what she was thinking. "I want to go out and try to make it on my own. If I don’t, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life."

A long period of cold shoulders and recriminations followed. But in the end, a parent’s heart will always ache for their child. Seeing the smile disappear from Sun Qian’s face as she grew thinner by the day, her parents finally relented and agreed to her request. And so, today, Sun Qian had come to the school to submit her letter of resignation to the principal.

"Teacher Bai, good morning." As she reached the principal’s office, she saw Teacher Bai, the language arts teacher, walking out. "Is the principal in?"

"He is." Teacher Bai nodded, stepping aside to let her pass. Her hips swayed as the clicks of her high heels faded into the distance. Sun Qian thanked her, then stepped forward and knocked.

"Come in." Principal Gao’s rich baritone sounded from within. ’A voice like that seems suited for opera,’ the thought inexplicably crossed Sun Qian’s mind.

"Hello, Principal Gao." Sun Qian entered, pulled the resignation letter from her bag, and handed it to him. She had already notified the school of her intentions, so today was merely a formality.

"Sigh. To be honest, I’m really reluctant to let a great teacher like you go, Teacher Sun," Principal Gao said with a helpless air. Sun Qian’s professional skills were top-notch; the few music students had improved rapidly under her tutelage. He feared the school would struggle to find a qualified replacement after she was gone.

"I’m so sorry for the trouble," Sun Qian said, unsure of what else to say. Her reply came out stiffly.

"You young people are full of ideas. Once you’ve spent time out in the wider world, you don’t want to be stuck in a small place like this. It’s understandable." As he spoke, Principal Gao opened Sun Qian’s letter.

The letter began by expressing her gratitude for the support she had received from the administration and her colleagues since joining the school. It then stated her reasons for resigning. All in all, it was very by-the-book.

"It’s good to see the wider world while you’re young. In the future, if you get tired of the grind out there and want to take a break, No. 1 High School will always welcome you back." Having already done all the persuading he could, Principal Gao wrote "Approved" on the letter. From that moment, Sun Qian was free again.

Stepping out of the school gates, Sun Qian felt a great weight lift from her shoulders. She couldn’t help but start humming a song she’d written back when she was a student.

She returned home with a light spring in her step. Seeing the smile on their daughter’s face, her parents fell silent. ’Perhaps making her come back had been a mistake after all.’

"Alright, Mom, that’s enough. I really can’t eat another bite."

"Eat more. Who’s going to look after you like this once you leave?" her mother said, stubbornly placing a chicken leg in her bowl.

Now that her decision was made, Sun Qian booked a ticket for that very day. At the station, she dragged her suitcase behind her and waved goodbye to her parents. "Dad, Mom, you two can go home now. Don’t worry about me. I’ve already contacted my university roommate. I’ll be staying at her place, so I’ll be fine."

"If you need anything, just call home," her mother said, wiping away tears as she waved emphatically. "Your father and I are still hale and hearty, you don’t need to worry about us."

It was time to board. Sun Qian dried her eyes and climbed onto the bus. As it began to move, she couldn’t resist looking back, only to see her father and mother still standing in the same spot, gazing toward her from afar. A pang of sadness went through her.

Hugging her guitar, she watched the scenery—the mountains and rivers, the flowers and trees—roll by outside her window. The bus weaved along winding mountain roads. After a journey of more than four hours, Sun Qian finally arrived at her destination.

She pulled out her phone and dialed her university roommate. "Yeah, I just got in. I’m at the Yunzhong City bus station right now... No, no, don’t take time off work! Just give me an address, and I can grab a cab myself..."

Hanging up the phone, Sun Qian used an app to hail a taxi and set off for the address her friend had given her.