All-rounder Artist

Chapter 1488: Chapter 1217: His Name is Called Teacher_2

During the examination of his injuries.

The doctor discovered that Li Baoku had esophageal cancer.

Fortunately, his esophageal cancer was in the early stages and had not spread. Surgery could cure it, and it was one of the cancers with the highest surgical cure rate, so he had picked up a life.

Who knew.

That upon discovering he had esophageal cancer, Li Baoku’s first thought was not about money or life, but he asked the doctor:

“If I don’t have surgery, how much time do I have left?”

“About six months.”

The doctor looked at him in confusion.

If you don’t have surgery, you won’t survive.

He let out a breath, as if greatly comforted. His mouth twitched slightly due to the pain.

At least I can see this graduating class off.

He really couldn’t come up with the over 20,000 yuan needed for treatment.

Though the salary for private teachers is very low, having worked for so many years, alone and unattached, normally he should have saved some money.

But he spent all his money on the kids.

He couldn’t remember how many students’ tuition fees he had paid on their behalf, the latest being Liu Baozhu and Guo Cuihua;

Most of the time, he saw there was not much oil in the kids’ pots, so he used his salary to buy some meat and lard for them…

At this point, all his money only amounted to one-tenth of the surgery costs.

Clearly.

This was a teacher deeply loved by his students.

In a daze.

Zhan Yun seemed to see the scene described in the novel:

A makeshift classroom with a bunch of worn-out wooden tables forming a so-called school.

During the day.

The school echoed with clear reading voices.

At night.

With no illumination, he lit candles to teach the children.

This was because some students had to help with farm work during the day, causing them to miss classes.

Recently.

Since the news of Li Baoku’s severe illness had been discovered by the children, he often saw them burning incense and paper for him.

They had done this many times before, but this time Li Baoku no longer had the strength to reprimand the children for being superstitious as he did in the past.

He exhausted his life, igniting the flame of science and civilization in the children’s hearts.

But he understood:

Compared to the ignorance and superstition that shrouded this remote mountain village, that flame was so weak, just like the candle in the classroom during the winter night in these deep mountains.

…

A strong ability to express through text.

But what does this have to do with science fiction?

Zhan Yun thought as he instinctively clicked to the next page, then suddenly widened his eyes:

[At a distance of 50,000 light-years from Blue Star, at the center of the Milky Way, an interstellar war that had lasted for tens of thousands of years was nearing its end.]

We’ve entered the sci-fi theme!

Could this be dual narrative?

One side is the rural teacher, even in his last moments, he burns himself to teach the children;

The other side is the interstellar war unfolding at the center of the Milky Way!

It truly is dual narrative.

In the tiny village.

The rural teacher and a group of ill-fated children depend on each other for survival.

In the vast universe.

Two opposing camps fight to the death with technology far beyond Blue Star.

The question is:

No matter how much Zhan Yun thinks, he can’t fathom what connection these two lines will have, or what Chu Kuang’s writing intention really is.

Can’t see through.

Can’t figure out.

However, this cosmic battle was not just brushed over. Chu Kuang wrote it very thoroughly, even with a bit of hard sci-fi flavor.

The opposing sides are carbon-based and silicon-based life forms.

The work showcases a grand scale and strong descriptive abilities.

The war can ignite thousands of supernovae, various chaotic space-time structures, yet it all fits perfectly with physical knowledge.

Chu Kuang’s solid ability in writing sci-fi war is fully displayed in this cosmic line!

Of course.

Though humanity belongs to one type of carbon-based life form, they aren’t qualified to participate in the Carbon-Based Alliance’s interstellar war, nor are they aware of it.

Finally.

The Carbon-Based Alliance achieved victory in the war.

…

Since it’s a dual narrative, once the cosmic war section is finished, the story’s perspective naturally returns to the small village.

In school.

Li Baoku taught as usual, but today his condition was particularly poor, and he looked frighteningly pale.

The students were concerned:

“Teacher, why don’t you rest? You can teach tomorrow.”

He struggled to smile: “Tomorrow has tomorrow’s lessons.”

He thought, if he could indeed hold out until tomorrow, then he could teach one more class.

But intuition told him it wasn’t going to happen.

He gestured, and a child placed a small blackboard on the sheet over his chest.

In this last month, he had been teaching like this.

He took the piece of chalk offered by the child with weak and powerless hands, painstakingly placing the chalk on the blackboard.

At that moment, another burst of severe pain hit, his hand trembled a few times, and the chalk tapped several white dots on the blackboard.

Yes.

Since returning from the provincial city, he hadn’t gone back to the hospital.

Now, almost half a year had passed, and the cancer cells had metastasized to his liver, hence the overwhelming pain.

With one hand, he groped under the pillow, retrieving some painkillers, the most common type wrapped in plastic strips.

For the severe pain of late-stage cancer, this medication already had no effect; perhaps due to mental suggestion, he always felt slightly better after taking it.

Sedatives weren’t that expensive, but the hospital wouldn’t allow them to be taken home for use, even if taken home, there’d be no one to administer them.

He took two pills from the plastic strip as usual.

But after thinking it over, he peeled off all the remaining 12 pills and swallowed them in one go.

Because he knew he’d never need this medicine again.

He struggled again to write on the blackboard, but his head suddenly tilted to one side, and a child quickly placed a basin by his mouth, into which he vomited a mouthful of dark-red blood, then weakly leaned against the pillow, gasping for breath.

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