Giving Kudos to Those Who Read at 6 AM!
The thin morning mist hadn't dissipated, like a veil enveloping the campus; the majestic library was hidden within the faint morning mist; the leaves of the ginkgo trees lay scattered on the ground, the aunt hadn't swept away the golden hues beneath the trees; the clear chirping of birds broke the silence of the morning, echoing in the air.
Before crossing the bridge, you could hear the distinct reading voices from beside the school's Rainbow Bridge, even from a distance. The voices were articulate, clear, and vibrant. Passing through the mist and entering, a student holding a postgraduate entrance examination English textbook was seen standing by the bridge reciting English words.
She would sometimes lean against willows, sometimes sit on the lawn. Suddenly, she would stand up, holding the book with her hands behind her back, gazing intently at the lake surface, lost in thought. Over the next few days, every morning when passing by the side road in front of the library at six o'clock, I would always see her figure. Even when it was raining lightly, she would still remain there.
Finally one day, I mustered the courage to approach her side. Seeing the English textbook in her hand filled with dense words, the key words in the book were repeatedly highlighted with red pens. The moon was still hanging in the treetops, and a strong wind was blowing in the air, she stood under the street lamp, holding the book and reading aloud.
A cold wind blew through, she tightened her sleeves and continued reading the book with the help of the faint light.
The campus in the morning seemed to be a stage just for her.
While she was resting, I quietly asked her, 'Sister, it's cold here, why aren't you in your dormitory?' When it was almost dawn, as the students gradually entered the library, she put the book back into her bag.
She gently replied, 'My roommates are still resting, there's an exam coming up, and there are still many words I haven't memorized. Reading in the dormitory would affect them. The library hasn't opened yet, so I had to come here.' Then she took out two steamed buns and a bottle of mineral water and ate them.
It took her less than two minutes to finish her simple breakfast. She didn't say much to me, and then took out another book from her bag. When I left, I left a cup of hot bean curd from the canteen beside her.
At six o'clock in the morning, many people were still asleep, but the campus was always active with a group of postgraduate entrance examination students. They were the first students to enter the canteen, and the last group to return to their dormitories. Hungry, they ate a simple meal; thirsty, they drank a bottle of mineral water; tired, they rested by lying down on the tables. Under the library, teaching buildings, and street lights… everywhere was their arduous battlefield of study.
No matter if it was windy or rainy, you could always hear their clear reading voices in the campus, bringing youthful vitality to the quiet campus.
Editor | MH0396
