Sunlight cannot be seen

"Damn it, it's internship time. All that pent-up lust I've been holding back over the summer hasn't even had a chance to burn out." In the twilight of September 2002, I threw away my cigarette butt, reluctantly

leaving my "little home," glancing back at my girlfriend Qi, who was still succumbing to her lust, and uttering my nth curse. The department held an internship mobilization meeting; everyone had to attend. I

originally didn't want to go, but it was important, and a bad location meant the internship wouldn't be fun. Not having a woman by my side was already bad enough. I desperately wanted to stay with the four "perverts" of the Chinese department;

together, we could still find some fun and get through the days. Leaving the rental village, I encountered many familiar strangers. We often frequented the road leading from the college to the rental village,

tacitly understanding each other—we were all "fun-seekers" in the same boat. At the college gate, the four of us "perverts" met up. Crazy was there with his "official wife," Li Yu, the student union president of the Chinese department.

At this moment , her face was flushed, clearly indicating that the "revolution" hadn't gone all the way. No wonder our Chairman was still unsatisfied; my brother, Madman, was a long bamboo pole, not much flesh on his body

. A lean, bony pole naturally lacks stamina, but its horizontal "pole" was unmatched by ordinary people. I remember what we country folk said: for women, it's not about length, but about size.

According to this theory, Madman's destructive power should have been able to strike right through the "Yellow Dragon Palace." However, our Chairman, besides his ability, was a complete "dinosaur" in terms of physique. No matter how much he pounced and tormented

, he remained calm and composed, even as Madman launched his "thousand-strong army" attack, all ending in a few groans. Tang Seng and Ribs were still alone, but that didn't mean they were good people; their girlfriends were

different every day. These two lads once declared: "We can't lose the whole country for a single flower!" The garden. These two, "invincible in their benevolence," have developed much land, irrigating much parched soil.

The other "lecher" is the bandit, a stubble-covered, fierce, and intimidating man—a master of lust. Right now, he's kissing his girlfriend from the political science department. Back in the day, Zhao Ziyun entered

Cao Cao's camp with the ease of an empty field. Our bandit's intimacy with his wife is quite like Old Zhao's style, their mouths slurping like pigs sucking their saliva. We're used to it; that's just how they are.

Our group marched in a grand procession to classroom 408. When we entered, it was already pitch black. My butt had barely touched the chair when the effeminate department head started speaking. I didn't care whether I

listened or not . I was looking at my classmates whom I'd looked at for three years during the meeting—don't get me wrong, I don't have that much interest in my kind. I wasn't very satisfied. The girls in the Literature Department, with their eloquent and elegant speech, exuded an ethereal,

otherworldly aura. But at this moment, they had to condescend to see if the girls with even a modicum of attractiveness had met the standards for "mistresses" after a summer of intensive "training." I

shamelessly scored them in my mind when suddenly, I witnessed this scene: the ugly guy from Class Two had a barely perceptible lewd smile on his face, tinged with enjoyment. The

girl was flushed, sweating profusely with nervousness. I knew something was amiss, so I stretched out to see what was going on. Godsaveme! The ugliest guy in the Literature Department had his large hand completely inside the

girl's private parts, and the girl, unable to make a sound, simply pressed her body against the table, placing her hands flat on it to prevent the students next to her from seeing. Damn it, I cursed inwardly. One

vulgar remark. That ugly fellow is so audacious, making us all ashamed of ourselves. Losing all interest in the scenery, I became restless. The poor stool groaned shrilly beneath my buttocks, though

not loudly, like the moan of a woman just experiencing pleasure—audible but suppressed.

Utterly bored, I decided to listen to the leader's golden words. At this moment, the "brilliant" secretary launched into a tirade: "Internships mean your front foot has stepped into society, but your hind foot is still

on campus..." "Hearing this, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. So, it's just between the legs!" I told Ribs next to me my thoughts, and Ribs laughed. Ribs then told

Bandit next to him. Within minutes, many classmates knew and laughed too. "Peak" thought he had made a vivid point and was quite proud of himself. At the end of the meeting, we were assigned internship locations and teams. I

was both happy and that I and the four lecherous guys hadn't suffered the merciless beating of Fahai and could go together. I was worried because I was going back to my alma mater for my internship, which was a place of my heartbreak. After the meeting, I

went straight home. There was a light in the room, so I knew Qi was back. I went up to her and hugged her from behind. After a while, I teased her: "Qi, what's between the legs?" Qi pinched my

face back, "The Chinese department doesn't say a nice thing." What an insult to me, a top student in the Chinese department! It's so embarrassing! "Don't change the subject, answer me." "Qi's

face was flushed, like a Fuji apple, and I couldn't help but take a few bites. 'You didn't know, did you, Elen?' Elen, Qi's English name, it's popular in the foreign language department. I once jokingly called

her Casli, and she said there was no such name. I said seriously, 'That's because you're short-sighted, I saw it in a famous book.'" She was skeptical, neither believing nor denying. I chuckled to myself

. Later, when our feelings for each other intensified to the point of complete openness, I shouted "Casli!" while diligently making love. Qi responded immediately, with long, pleasurable breaths. Actually, this

great English word was something I, a scholar, invented. Dear reader, I might as well tell you, Casli means to kill you. By the way, you absolutely mustn't let Qi know, otherwise, my ears will

grow long . Qi wouldn't let go for a while; even a police officer would confess to this torture. Qi stood up from the stool, nestled her head against my chest, which didn't have many strong muscles,

and pleaded with me to tell her. I gently licked Qi's earlobe, "Internship." Qi was surprised; I told her what "climax" had said. Qi laughed and punched me for taking things out of context. I picked Qi up and

laid her down on the bed, "The life between our legs begins now." "Qi, with her feigned reluctance, was undeniably alluring.

It was like running 1500 meters, panting and drenched in sweat—a true battle. I leaned against the headboard and lit a cigarette. Through the flickering smoke, I saw Qi's fair body and

exquisite curves, and her naturally rosy cherry lips, even without lipstick. Of course, I also saw the moonlight drifting lightly through the window into my room. Tomorrow, we'll be going to

different places for our internships. Some people in my building are also suffering from insomnia like me on nights like this, and others further away. All the couples in the rental village who are about to go on internships are suffering from insomnia,

even sleeplessness."
2.
When the bus dumped our group of 14 male and 10 female students from the Chinese Literature Department onto the spacious playground like trash, I looked at my alma mater, which felt somewhat familiar but mostly unfamiliar, and felt a pang of resentment.

I was about to unleash a torrent of curses, but I swallowed the swear word back down. After all, I was a student teacher now; I had to maintain a respectable image and preserve my dignity,

lest alumnus, Principal Wang, who came to pick us up, hear me. "Strategist, time to move things," my roommate, Ribs, called to me. This internship, four out of the six of us from the dorm were doing ours in this heartbreaking place:

besides Ribs, there was Tang Seng, Bandit, and Crazy.

The luggage piled up like a mountain, a chaotic mess. Because the school had to make room for the new students, we had been kicked out a week after the start of the semester, so we brought all our belongings with us.

It was a complete reenactment of the Red Army's retreat from Ruijin. We boys had it easy; we finished moving everything in no time. Afterwards, the traditional virtues of the Chinese nation were fully displayed.

The crucial actions of some boys who secretly admired the girls would earn even a thumbs-up from our Uncle Lei Feng, who remarked that there were successors to their legacy.

Those guys risked their lives to help the girls move their things, running up and down the stairs like madmen, panting and still running around happily. The girls, too, seemed to think there were no daily necessities in this county town, carrying everything with them.

When Paigu was moving Li Li's things, he accidentally dropped something from the bag. The crazy guy behind him picked it up and saw—damn, it was all the girls' monthly vacation essentials. The crazy guy said to Paigu, "You dropped your important item .

" Paigu, probably tired, had already hoisted the bag onto his shoulder, his head tilted to the side, not able to see what it was, and said, "Just put the thing on the bag." The crazy guy put the thing

on the bag. Without budging, the large bag landed right next to the head of the ribs. Entering the girls' dormitory, the ribs put it down, and the bag fell heavily to the floor. The girl next to him saw it, first stunned

, then burst into laughter, completely losing her composure. The ribs turned into pig liver, his face. Later, we would often say that the ribs were on good luck. With that thing on your head, philosophically speaking, bad luck turns to good luck

. Go buy a lottery ticket and don't win, wouldn't that be unfair?
3.
Our four roommates lived in one room, and we had planned it all. Internship life was bound to be boring, and the four of us were die-hard card-playing buddies, so getting together was a good way to organize activities.

The accommodation was tough; we all slept on the floor. We laid out straw mats and straw mats, and that made our beds. This made Crazy very uncomfortable; he was the only city person among us. That night,

Crazy baked countless pancakes, first counting sheep, then counting sheep wool. Even after counting all the wool, he still couldn't sleep peacefully. Actually, I didn't sleep well that night either. But unable to sleep, I

wandered around the campus for a long time. Slowly strolling across the playground, I thought about many things. Many memories, which might be blurred in normal times,

surged forth like a flood when I was there. My alma mater, how can I describe my feelings at this moment? This place held my youthful dreams, my youthful ignorance, and my shameful arrogance.

The ivy on the opposite wall was still lush in the approaching autumn, but where have the sparse figures beneath those vines gone? The classrooms opposite have been newly decorated, and the letters written on the walls—

letters only I could understand—have probably been freshly painted. The night was cool and still, my thoughts were in turmoil. I was searching for the past, a past that hadn't left many traces, except for pain

, hardships, and certain people who had drifted away.

That year, I entered the county's top high school with the second-highest score in the entire township. In the parlance of us country folk, getting into this provincial key high school was like having one foot already in university; the other

was just a matter of time before it was over. At only 16, I was incredibly happy for a while, my mind filled with bright prospects for the future. Actually, my expectations weren't very high. From a young age, I did

n't have the lofty ideals of others. I remember writing an essay titled "My Ideal" in elementary school—an essay I've probably written countless times—and writing that my only ideal was not to be a farmer, but to eat the government's

grain and become a public servant. This wasn't because I saw any concrete benefits to eating the government's grain. I only heard my mother say during the annual harvest season,

when my backside was tanned dark from the sun, "Son, you must study hard. Being a farmer is too hard. If you study hard and succeed, you'll eat the government's grain, and then you can stay indoors with a fan." Even with sweat dripping from my eyes, I listened with longing. Straightening up from the rice paddies, I looked

up; the sunlight felt like tiny needles pricking my skin, a dull ache. At that time, I couldn't imagine a better place than the township government. So, my gaze stretched towards the

direction . At that time, the village officials lay on their bamboo beds, enjoying the breeze from their fans—they were practically living like gods. I watched them for a long time, I thought for a long time. "I must study hard so that I can

enjoy the breeze from my fan indoors in June." So, I devoted myself to my studies. Every time I saw my grades improve a little, I felt genuinely gratified. I felt I was getting closer and closer to securing a government job.

My mother was an excellent farm woman, hardworking and virtuous, skilled in both the kitchen and the fields. She was a top-notch laborer in the production team, earning ten work points—only three in the entire team. What I admire most about her

even now is her excellent planning skills, and how her plans always kept up with changes. My mother seemed to have known all along that I could go to a top high school. That year, during the Spring Festival, she insisted on

not slaughtering the 200-pound pig that she had been raising for a year, saying she wanted to save it for my tuition. During the Spring Festival, my father bought a leg of pork. For a farm family, a leg of pork was far from

enough . It had to be used to render oil and serve to guests. The New Year was uneventful; my younger brother complained and yelled, and my mother even slapped him. Anyway, not having to worry about tuition fees at the start of the school year was

a happy thing. During the school term, who doesn't have children in school? Who can I borrow from?

The September sun was bright, and so was my future. Amidst many envious glances, I went to the city with my father. I only carried a few books I thought I might need; my father carried everything else on a shoulder pole

, one end with blankets and clothes, the other with a wooden box. This wooden box was one of the few dowry items my mother had brought from her family. Later, I used this same wooden box when I went to university

, and even now during my internship.
The
next day, the school held a meeting for interns to meet with the homeroom teachers of the classes they would be teaching. Walking in, I was stunned! It was packed with people. I wondered why there were so many homeroom teachers, all of them young

. All of us interns sat on one side, and the school teachers sat on the other, like two armies facing each other. The meeting proceeded as usual. The principal gave a round of polite welcome remarks, and our

team leader, Teacher Yuan, expressed gratitude and a desire for further assistance. Amidst the mutual pleasantries between the two leaders, my three best friends and I seized the opportunity to sized each other up. Thank goodness the Party and the people

didn't disappoint us four "lecherous devils"—a female teacher flashed into our mine-sweeping-like field of vision. This teacher had chestnut-colored hair, which looked extremely

stylish Her skin was fair and delicate, like the soft tofu from our countryside, and she wore a sweet smile. Especially captivating were her bright, sparkling eyes, which were truly mesmerizing. In our

dorm, we described beautiful, alluring eyes not as "seductive eyes," but as "Pan eyes," referring to the eyes of Pan Jinlian. For a while, we focused all our attention

on that "Alps" of her breasts. When describing a woman's breasts, we didn't use size as a measure, but rather famous mountains. The top was Mount Everest, the middle were the Four Sacred Mountains of our great motherland, and the smallest

was the inconspicuous Shehu Mountain next to our college. Sometimes, when a few of us went to the cafeteria, we'd always send one of us to grab a seat near a mountain-shaped peak, ostensibly to

"enrich" our eyes first. Each of us brothers had a fixed or semi-fixed "peak," but for the ones that moved around, we'd follow Little Han's example of leading troops. Our "eyesight" couldn't compare to Mount Everest

, but it was still far beyond the reach of the Four Sacred Mountains. The most breathtaking scenery is found at the most dangerous peaks. Just as I was lost in thought, Tang Seng, sitting right next to me, patted me on the shoulder: "Something's not right." "What? Don't disturb my good

time ." "Look, those male teachers are taking off their clothes." I knew what Tang Seng meant; when we said "lecherous," we meant he wanted to strip them naked and see them completely. That...

The light was intense, penetrating to the very core. Reluctantly, I shifted my gaze from the "pan-eyed" sound. Heh heh, the teacher across from me was peeling bamboo shoots; the poor shoot belonged to

Li Li, the class beauty not far from me. Of course, only I knew why the male teacher was being so audacious today. This school was great, but finding a partner was really difficult—too good for some, too bad for others. I only knew

Teacher Zhu Hao across from me; he'd been working for eight years. Eight years—even the War of Resistance Against Japan would have ended, but my dear Brother Zhu was still "self-reliant." In my juniors' words, he was a

typical "hands-dependent" person, solving everything with his own hands. Feeling sorry for him, I lost interest in looking at the "pan-eyed" sound; several of my brothers were already fixated

on that scene like a blanket. Bored, I overheard my alma mater's principal giving a speech—something interesting and profound. "Dear interns,

if you're willing to stay and work at our school, I, your senior, am willing to lend a helping hand. Especially for any of you female interns who'd like to 'put down roots' here, we'd be even more thrilled." "Roots?

" I was momentarily confused, then suddenly it dawned on me. Hey, the principal has it tough; he has to manage the school's work and also oversee the lifelong happiness of his students. The principal is a matchmaker! From then on,

during , we all called him that. That day, many young teachers were actually hunters, targeting us female interns. Unfortunately, their "guns" weren't very effective; their targets

didn't fall. Of course, there were some unexpected gains.

Teacher Yuan announced which classes each student would be assigned to, and I was paired with the second prettiest girl in the class. I didn't pay much attention; the second prettiest girl in the class had a very strange temper and would easily fly into a rage. Because her appearance

was truly unappealing—genuine African skin, small eyes, a big mouth, and a high nose. If she were taller, it would be fine, but she was only 3 centimeters taller than the square root of 2. And that wasn't all; what was even

more astonishing was that she had an "American" butt. Regarding girls (PP), our dorm used political terminology to distinguish them. The big ones were superpowers; with the collapse of the Soviet Union, only the US remained. The medium-sized ones were

developed countries, and the small ones were considered underdeveloped. During our late-night chats, we gave her a nickname: "The Second Class Beauty." Compared to the class beauty, Li Li, that woman was a fiery stunner. She caused

several of our dorm brothers to lose a lot of their sons. More on that later. Assigning partners was a mixed bag; some were happy, some were sad. Ribs (排骨) was assigned to the same class as the class beauty. Afterwards, we all told him to

treat us, and he took everyone out for a late-night snack. This guy was so arrogant and cocky; even the Volunteer Army back in the day didn't have that kind of spirit. While we, this group of scoundrels, were clinking glasses, Ribs,

like General Peng Dehuai, looked determined to conquer the Americans, declaring, "Buddies, just wait and see me ride that woman!" Poor class beauty, at that moment, was just a mount.

Fortunately, many things are men's secrets, unknown to women. Otherwise, this "horse" would have died of vomiting blood long before our lovely brother, Ribs, even got a chance to go up there.
5.

It's not that I don't understand, the world just changes too fast. I didn't pay attention to this saying before, until I saw that damned Er Gou, and then I understood its true meaning. At noon, the September sun

was scorching hot. I had been holding my pee for a long time, so I had to rush to the toilet. Behind the toilet, a student dormitory was under construction, the construction site was bustling with activity, and the machines were roaring. I suddenly felt very sad. I thought of

my younger brother, who is now also a migrant worker. Not long ago, I called home, and my father told me that my brother had gone to work in the south.

I poured a stream of hot pee on the toilet wall, and my heart calmed down a lot. After leaving the toilet, I wrung out my clothes and fanned myself to get rid of the stench. Otherwise, if

everyone smelled this while we were preparing lessons, they would definitely give me a piece of their mind. I didn't want to be verbally humiliated by everyone, so to be on the safe side, I stood in the sweltering heat for a while, trying to reduce the stench as much as possible.

Just then, a fat man with an enormous belly walked towards us. I thought, if a foreigner saw this, he'd never dare laugh at China for mistreating teachers. Heh heh, you've really made

Chinese teachers proud, huh! Just as we were about to pass each other, I suddenly realized that this fat face looked familiar, especially the teeth mark on his ear. I remembered, when I was little,

Er Gou and I used to fight. Once, he pinned me down, and I couldn't breathe, so I bit his ear hard. Er Gou screamed and rolled off me. From then on,

although Er Gou was fatter and stronger than me, he respected me. Throughout my childhood and middle school years, he always followed me. Many of my childhood friends were also afraid of me, simply because I was ruthless. Now,

I don't know how I developed that wolfish spirit back then. After reading *Wolf Totem*, I pondered that perhaps a long, long time ago, my ancestors lived on the grasslands. After countless

changes , my ancestors finally came to Jiangnan.

"You are...you are Sun Lin." The fat man actually called out my name, which surprised me. "I'm Er Gou." Good heavens, Er Gou. I recognized him then too. My gaze lingered

on him for a long time, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find a trace of familiarity, only the glorious mark I had left on him. We hadn't seen each other for nine years. He dropped out of junior high school

and went south to work. While I was constantly squandering my parents' hard-earned money, Er Gou

was sending money home. Every time Er Gou's father went to collect the money, he would always remember to buy a few pounds of meat to treat himself, and he would go around telling everyone how capable his son was and how well he could make money. This

made the villagers very envious. When the villagers accepted cigarettes from Er Gou's father, they would flatter him, saying he had a good son and was living a life of luxury. Countless times, Er Gou's father would offer my father a cigarette,

always saying, "Old Sun, why do you keep sending your son to school? A good education leads to earning money, don't you? Look, my Er Gou is making a lot of money outside." Back then, my father

would always remain silent. Now, I don't know why, as his son, even though there were no auspicious signs or extraordinary events associated with my birth, he still insisted on sending me to school,

silently enduring pressure from all sides. Perhaps, in my father's traditional peasant mindset, "all other professions are inferior, only studying is noble." Of course, the answer for my

mother was much simpler: I was delicate and frail from a young age, and my constitution wasn't very good; being a farmer definitely wouldn't be enough. This simple, rustic principle sustained her

, and she painstakingly sent me to school. Er Gou, for a time, was my mortal enemy during my high school years.

When I came home for holidays, I usually stayed home and didn't go out. Walking down the street, people would always say, whether feigning concern or genuinely well-intentioned, "Oh, the college student's back!" or "Your parents work

so , you have to study hard!" Hearing the first part, I wouldn't bother replying; they just wanted to see me fail. Since Liberation, apart from one

student who was admitted to university during the People's Commune era, no one else from our village had ever achieved that. Many ambitious young people in the village had tried, but all had failed. One even repeated the exam six times and eventually developed a mental illness.

He kept shouting in the village, "I want to go to university! I want to go to university!" I knew that although I was in the top high school, my dream of going to university was still far from being realized. Hearing the latter part made me very sad. Yes

, other people's children were sending money home, and new houses were springing up like mushrooms after rain, while I was still spending my parents' money. I felt like a burden, a waste. What made me especially sad was during the New Year when

my cousins gathered together, talking about how much I had earned. I could only leave, head bowed in dejection.

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