小明一家 老师好

"Happy New Year, Teacher Wang!"

The door opened, and a slightly tired face appeared before me. It was Xiaoming's mother. Today was the first day of the Lunar New Year, and it was also the day for me, as the elementary school homeroom teacher, to make my New Year's home visit. Saying it's a home visit, it's really more like a formality that everyone is well aware of.

I squeezed out a professional smile: "Happy New Year, Xiaoming's mom. I'm here to see Xiaoming."

Xiaoming's mother stepped aside to let me in. The house was decorated festively, with red "Fu" characters (meaning good fortune) crookedly pasted on the walls. The air was filled with a faint smell of instant noodles. Xiaoming was sitting upright on the sofa, holding a thick book titled "Five Years of National College Entrance Examinations and Three Years of Simulation."

"Hello, teacher!" Xiaoming stood up, his voice clear and loud.

I nodded and walked to Xiaoming's side. "Xiaoming, a new year should bring a new atmosphere. You need to buckle down and focus on studying." As I spoke, I habitually reached out to touch his head, intending to pat his hair as encouragement.

My hand stopped in mid-air.

Xiaoming's head was bald, not the smoothness of a shaved head, but the smoothness of no hair at all, like a hard-boiled egg.

I was stunned for a moment, remembering that when Xiaoming's mother came to the parent-teacher conference, she still had thick, dark curly hair.

"Xiaoming, where is your hair?" I tried my best to keep my tone calm.

Xiaoming blinked, as if it was the most natural thing in the world: "Teacher, my mom donated all of my hair to people who need it so that I can focus on studying."

I looked at Xiaoming's mother, who also smiled at me, her fatigue even more pronounced.

"Yes, Teacher Wang, we donated it. The whole family has donated it." Xiaoming's mother’s tone was light, as if she were talking about the nice weather.

"Donated it all?" I was a bit lost, was I misunderstanding something?

Suddenly, Xiaoming pointed to a family photo on the wall. In the photo, Xiaoming's father, Xiaoming's grandparents, and even Xiaoming's baby sister in her swaddling clothes, all had shiny bald heads.

I felt a chill run down my spine. "Xiaoming's mom, what… what's going on?"

Xiaoming's mother didn't seem to notice my surprise and continued, "Our family discussed it, and to help Xiaoming concentrate on his studies, we decided to shave our heads, and each morning we supervise each other, and anyone who dares to touch their hair will be punished."

"Punished?" I was sensitive to this word.

"Yes, punished." Xiaoming's mother said with a smile, "Whoever touches their hair has to do ten more practice tests."

I felt like I had fallen into an absurd vortex. This preposterous logic, this craziness of sacrificing everything for the sake of studying, made my scalp tingle.

I tried to take a deep breath to calm myself. "Xiaoming's mom, I think this method… isn't it a bit too much?"

Xiaoming's mother was startled, seemingly a bit surprised by my reaction. "Teacher Wang, competition in society is so fierce nowadays, how can anyone succeed without working hard? Our whole family supports Xiaoming."

She took out a thick booklet from under the coffee table and handed it to me, "Teacher Wang, look, this is our family's study schedule for today. There's a plan for every hour."

I took the booklet. It was filled with dense study content, from six in the morning to midnight, with almost no breaks in between. Even during meals, they had to watch the news.

I flipped to the last page, which boldly declared: "For Xiaoming's future, the whole family must give their all."

I closed the booklet, feeling dizzy.

"Teacher Wang, you see, our family is very cooperative with the school's work, right?" Xiaoming's mother looked at me expectantly.

I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, but found myself unable to say anything. I suddenly realized that in this distorted view of education, I, as a teacher, had also become an accomplice.

"Yes, you are very dedicated," I mechanically squeezed out those words.

I didn’t sit down any longer and got up to leave. As I walked towards the door, I couldn’t help but look back. Xiaoming’s family was still studying, each of them with a religious-like piety, as if they were performing some kind of ritual.

I felt as if I were on a giant stage play, where everyone was earnestly playing their part, and what was so-called absurd had become their normal, everyday life.

Stepping outside, I touched my thick hair. I suddenly remembered that the last time Xiaoming's mother had come to the school for a parent-teacher conference, she had also been bald… At that time, she had said it was to support environmental protection and that she had donated her hair to charity...

I suddenly understood. This was not an absurd cycle of events, but a carefully designed performance to cater to the school, to cater to the system. This family had long internalized the absurdity into a routine part of their lives.

I turned around and saw through the window of Xiaoming’s home, the whole family was uniformly doing eye exercises. The top of Xiaoming’s mother’s head reflected light under the sun, making my eyes sting.