Xiaoming‘s Family Says Hello to the Teacher

On New Year's Eve, Xiaoming's family sat in front of the television, not to watch the Spring Festival Gala, but to wait for a phone call.

To be precise, they were waiting for a "video call" from their son Xiaoming's elementary school homeroom teacher, Ms. Wang.

This call was not an ordinary New Year's greeting, but a "family performance report".

To welcome the New Year and respond to the call for "building a harmonious society between family and school," Ms. Wang had ingeniously assigned a special winter vacation assignment: each student's family had to conduct a "family talent show" on New Year's Eve, record it on video, and upload it to the class group chat. The parents were all excited, claiming it was a great opportunity to "enhance parent-child relationships and cultivate children's talents."

Xiaoming's father, Lao Li, was a software company programmer who worked overtime until late at night. Code was the language he was most familiar with. Xiaoming's mother was a full-time housewife, her days revolving around pots and pans, with the sounds of cooking as her symphony. As for Xiaoming, a second-grader, he was overwhelmed by homework and his greatest hobby was sleeping.

"What should we perform?" Lao Li scratched his head, his eyes bloodshot, staring blankly at the code on the computer screen. "How about I write some code and perform it for you? We could have Xiaoming's mom hit a pot with a spatula for sound effects?"

Xiaoming's mother rolled her eyes. "Are you crazy? Everyone else is singing and dancing, and we're doing this?"

Xiaoming muttered quietly, "Can I sleep?"

In the end, the family decided to take the "mainstream route"—Xiaoming would recite a Tang poem, his mother would sing a red song, and Lao Li would be responsible for applauding.

So, starting from the 28th of the Lunar December, Xiaoming was forced to recite Li Bai's "Thoughts on a Tranquil Night," his mother practiced "My Motherland" every day, and Lao Li mechanically clapped.

Time ticked by, and New Year's Eve drew nearer. The whole neighborhood was filled with the festive atmosphere of the New Year. Firecrackers were popping everywhere, and neighbors were doing their final rehearsals for their "family performance reports", a mix of loud singing and musical instrument playing filling the air.

In Xiaoming's living room, however, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. The family repeated their practice mechanically, their faces showing exhaustion and impatience.

Finally, at eight o'clock in the evening, Ms. Wang's call came as expected.

"Hello, Mr. Li Xiaoming's parent, this is Ms. Wang. Please prepare for the performance." Ms. Wang's sweet voice came over the phone, with a hint of undeniable authority.

"Hello, Teacher!" Lao Li quickly connected the video call, focusing the camera on Xiaoming.

Xiaoming took a deep breath and began reciting "Thoughts on a Tranquil Night": "Moonlight in front of my bed, I suspect it is frost on the ground..."

He paused halfway through.

"What's wrong? Can't you remember it?" Ms. Wang's voice became stern.

Xiaoming's eyes turned red. His mother quickly continued, "I raise my head to gaze at the bright moon, and lower my head to think of my hometown..."

His mother began singing "My Motherland," her voice a little off-key, while Lao Li clapped mechanically, like a soulless robot.

When the performance was over, Ms. Wang sent a thumbs-up emoji, "Very good! Well done! Keep it up!"

Lao Li wiped the sweat from his brow and breathed a sigh of relief. Just as he was about to say something, his phone rang again.

It was Ms. Wang.

"Mr. Li Xiaoming's parent, this is a video call with another teacher's home visit, please maintain the performance state."

"Again?" Lao Li was stunned.

"It's like this, the school's new director of academic affairs is very interested in our family-school co-construction, so he would like to see the effects. So... trouble you!" Ms. Wang explained.

For the rest of the night, Xiaoming's family, like puppets on strings, repeated the same performance over and over again in front of different teachers.

Reciting Tang poems, singing red songs, clapping mechanically - they felt like they were in a huge, absurd loop. The festive spirit of their home was completely depleted by this bizarre "performance report".

Late into the night, the sound of firecrackers died down. Xiaoming's family remained stiffly on the sofa, waiting for the next phone call. Lao Li looked out at the dark night sky and suddenly laughed. His laughter grew louder and louder, eventually turning into silent sobs.

He thought of the boring meetings at his company, the constant bugs in his code, and the hope he once had for the future. Now, he felt like he and the performance he was giving were nothing but puppets following a pre-set program.

"Happy New Year," Lao Li said softly, his voice full of helplessness and desolation.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. It was Old Wang, the neighbor, holding a box of beautifully wrapped snacks.

"Lao Li, your family was so energetic today! My teacher said your performance was very inspiring and I had to come learn from you!"

Lao Li looked at Old Wang, whose face was covered in a fawning smile, as if waiting for approval from his leader.

He was stunned.

He suddenly understood, this was a grand, nationwide absurd drama. And everyone was playing their part in this play, enjoying it tirelessly.

The phone rang again. Lao Li picked up the phone and saw an unfamiliar number on the screen. He showed a smile that was worse than a cry, and softly said, "Hello teacher, we are ready..."