The Truth Behind "Jiayou"

The wind on the plateau howled, like a broken lament.

"Jiayou! Xigaze!"

On the phone screen, the slogan flashed again and again. Old Li sat by the tent, lit a cigarette, and the acrid smoke made his eyes water. He didn’t understand why everyone had to “jiayou” (add oil). The earthquake had collapsed the houses, and people were freezing. Add oil to what? Could adding oil grow houses and revive the dead?

Old Li used to be a primary school teacher, teaching children to sing and read. Now, he sat by the ruins, able only to pick up broken pieces of tile, piecing together the memory of his former home. He knew that those who typed on keyboards in the cities, shouting “jiayou,” would never understand what was happening here. They were just “jiayou-ing” for their own lives, casually bestowing the word "jiayou" on the distance.

He opened his phone, wanting to send a message to his daughter to tell her not to worry. However, the phone signal was intermittent, like his current mood. His daughter was studying at a university in another city and had once told him that she wanted to come back to their hometown to be a teacher. Now, would there even be a school here?

Outside the tent, there was a burst of cheerful laughter. Old Li went out and saw several young people taking selfies with their phones, with the collapsed houses as the backdrop. They posed in various postures, shouting, “Jiayou! Xigaze!”

Old Li suddenly felt nauseous. He wanted to stop them, but he found that he had no strength. He silently returned to the tent, picked up a piece of broken tile, and lightly engraved something on it.

The next day, the rescue team finally arrived. They brought supplies, they brought hope. Old Li was also assigned to a temporary resettlement site. When distributing supplies, the staff shouted at him: “Jiayou! Old man! Everything will be alright!”

Old Li lowered his head, took the supplies, and silently left. He buried the tile with the inscription next to the tent, on which was written crookedly – "My fuel tank is empty, please help me add some gasoline."

A few days later, Old Li returned to the ruins. He wanted to rebuild his home. He knew that relying on “jiayou” wouldn't build a house. He bent down to pick up a piece of rubble when he suddenly noticed a plastic bottle next to where he had buried the tile yesterday. It was full of gasoline. On the bottle was a small note, which read:

"Jiayou, teacher."