Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
A few months into the new school year, as the weather gradually turned cooler, I suddenly felt that my hair was becoming a bit bothersome. I decided to pay a visit to the school's barbershop.
Since I was born, I had mostly gotten my hair cut at home. During my childhood, my father worked far away in the Suining Mountainous Area. Whenever either my mother or I thought my hair had grown too long, we would pick a relatively free day for my grandfather to take out his old Razor, fill a basin with warm water to tame my hair, and then swiftly shave it off close to my scalp, one tuft at a time.
As I grew older, both of us found haircuts increasingly challenging. My hair became thicker and coarser, while my grandfather's hands grew slower. He would occasionally tremble, leaving fine cuts on my scalp, forcing him to take breaks to regain his focus with the Razor.
Not long after, my father was transferred back to Dongkou County, just ten miles from home. He would usually come back on weekends and took over the task of cutting my and my brother's hair. By then, our living conditions had improved somewhat. Although we still hadn't bought an electric clipper—considered a luxury at the time—my cousin Long Bo had one at his house in Long's Family Courtyard. My father would sometimes borrow it from him; there were also two clippers at Garden Middle School where he taught. He would plan our haircuts around his schedule so he could borrow them before heading home.
With the arrival of the clipper, my hairstyle began to change. No longer did I sport the uniform bald head that my grandfather had given me; instead, I adopted the trendy short buzz cut that my father had learned to master through practice.
During holidays and festivals, my father would generously give us a dime and let us go get a proper buzz cut from Barber Liu Xunding at Chang Tang Chong Courtyard or ask Long Bo—the "first" barber in our courtyard—to help shape it nicely.
Thus, even though Third Middle School had its own barbershop open for all students for free, I hadn’t stepped inside during the first semester. It wasn’t until more than half of the second semester had passed that I finally entered this small room of about ten square meters, encouraged by classmates around me.
The room was quite simple, furnished with three or four square stools. Three barbers were busy with their clippers, working hard during the free time after school when many students came for haircuts—reportedly over ten each day. Today, I arrived early; there was no line outside yet, and an empty stool awaited me. I quickly sat down as one of the barbers draped a simple cape over me and asked, “What style do you want?”
Perhaps recalling how my grandfather used to gently stroke my head while wielding the Razor or still being immersed in the popular "Shaolin series" like Shaolin Temple and Shaolin Kid over the past two years, I blurted out, “Just give me a bald head.”
A rare smile appeared on the barber’s face; to them, shaving a bald head was the simplest task—just run the clipper along the scalp until all hair was gone. It required no skill and took the least amount of time—truly a stroke of luck for them when they encountered a student like me during their busy hours.
The process was straightforward; since I opted for a bald head, many steps like washing and trimming could be skipped. In less than ten minutes, I walked out of the barbershop sporting a shiny bald head.
During Evening Study Session, as my dormitory classmates looked at the only bald head in class, there was no hint of surprise on their faces. Perhaps they had also experienced baldness in their childhoods but gradually moved away from such hairstyles as they grew older; or maybe they were influenced by the "Shaolin series," thinking that being bald among so much hair gave off a cool vibe.
The next morning during morning exercises, as the chilly autumn wind brushed against my bare scalp, I felt an intimate connection with nature wash over me. However, this tranquility was quickly shattered by gasps from those around me. Perhaps it was due to having more female classmates or simply because I was the only bald head on campus; either way, I suddenly felt that showcasing such a "bald head" in an academic environment like Third Middle School might not be appropriate.
A few days later on campus at Third Middle School, several other students appeared with similar bald heads. Although in Ultimate Class Three—the trendsetters of Third Middle School—I remained the only one with a completely smooth scalp; around campus though, encountering other "light bulbs" diluted much of the attention originally focused on me and eased some of my anxiety.
What irked me secretly was that most of these bald seniors were students from Gaosha Street who swaggered around among their peers with an air of coolness that often felt rather pretentious.
After getting one haircut that drew so much attention, I decided to keep my distance from baldness henceforth. However, its impact lingered longer than expected.
Because of my bald head, many classmates and teachers recognized me around school; often leaving me with a feeling of being conspicuous. Once during Evening Study Session before class started, I rushed out with some classmates to play near the ridge in front of school. We hurried back when we heard the preparatory bell ring but realized we were running out of time. In a moment of desperation, I climbed over a wall only for Director Liu—the General Affairs Teacher—to spot us from afar. Although we managed to slip into class before he reached us, he recognized me by my shiny head and reprimanded me sternly when we crossed paths again the next day.
Because of this baldness incident, some mischievous classmates came up with a nickname for me—“Leper”—which quickly gained notoriety throughout our grade and even across Third Middle School within just two or three days. While it left me feeling helpless at times, I took it all in stride since there was no history linking me to such an image; when classmates occasionally called out this nickname among themselves it merely indicated closeness rather than anything serious worth fretting over. My nonchalant attitude only fueled their interest and memory of it further; even by graduation from high school many classmates still referenced this nickname in messages to deepen mutual impressions while I always accepted it cheerfully—as if in my eyes being bald was also a form of honor.
Comment 0 Comment Count