My hometown is far away in Moscow.

Chapter 82 The Chinese Name of Cangweng

Chapter 82 The Chinese Name of Cangweng

"SD province, ever heard of it?"

"Ah, SD province! I know, it's close to South Korea, close to Seoul!" Han Cangweng looked up and thought for a moment, "Confucius, SD province, right?"

"Yes, yes." Hu Yi nodded with a smile: "You know China quite well."

"Yes, Koreans, many know that," Han Cangweng said excitedly. "I also know—um—Zhuge Liang! Zhao Zilong! Cao Cao!"

Although his pronunciation wasn't perfect, these names were so familiar to Chinese people that Hu Yi understood them immediately. Without realizing it, he felt a closer connection with him and couldn't help but ask curiously, "That's right! What else do you know?"

"I can write Chinese characters." Han Cangweng said, picking up a pen and paper and thinking for a moment before writing down a few simple Chinese characters: 十, 女, 子, 日, 天, 中, 大, 小.

Hu Yi was overjoyed, and suddenly remembered his strange name, so he tentatively asked, "Can your name be written in Chinese characters?"

"Of course!" Han Cangweng nodded solemnly and wrote three crooked traditional Chinese characters on the paper: Han Shangyun.

"Oh! Han Shangyun, Han Cangweng." Hu Yi repeatedly read out the different pronunciations in Chinese and Korean: "Your name is not bad, it sounds very nice when pronounced in Chinese."

Han Shangyun is 26 years old and comes from Busan, South Korea. According to South Korea's conscription system, all adult males must serve in the military unless there are special circumstances. Han Shangyun is no exception. Therefore, although he is older, he has just graduated from university. The other men who came to eat with him today are in similar situations.

These South Koreans did not come to Yugoslav University as students, but rather participated in a long-term international cultural exchange program between Russia and South Korea at their own expense, similar to studying abroad. Before leaving, they received short-term Russian language training in South Korea and had a certain level of listening and reading ability, but their spoken Russian was poor, especially Han Sang-yun, whose Russian pronunciation was so perfect that Hu Yi often found it both funny and frustrating.

Although he had only recently graduated from university, Han Shangyun was in a good financial situation, much better off than Hu Yi. Just a few days after moving in, he bought himself a lot of everyday items, and even managed to get a used refrigerator from a Korean friend for fifty dollars.

With a refrigerator in the house, life became much more convenient. Hu Yi was very happy and insisted on paying Han Shangyun half the money. Finally, he was able to live with household appliances in Moscow.

Ten days passed in the blink of an eye, and the two got along well in the house. Han Shangyun was cheerful and talkative, and his Korean friends often came to visit him. One of the girls even brought him a big box full of kimchi.

Hu Yi would sometimes chat and laugh with his friends, or eat a few bites of kimchi. The atmosphere among the neighbors was very harmonious. The only obstacle to communication was Han Shangyun's Russian.

He himself was quite troubled by this, probably because he hadn't studied Russian for very long, and when he got anxious, he would blurt out a few English words, but his pronunciation was also strange, with a strong Korean accent, which made people laugh.

"Cangweng, please stop speaking English." Hu Yi exaggeratedly rubbed his head and laughed, "Your English pronunciation—well, it's absolutely terrible."

Han Shangyun looked shocked: "Walter?"

"Huh?" Hu Yi was taken aback, not understanding what he was saying.

"Walt? You said Walt?" Han Shangyun repeated, "My English is terrible?"

"Yes!" Hu Yi laughed. "What does 'Walter' mean?"

"Damn it!" Han Shangyun laughed and cursed as he walked to Hu Yi's table. "You don't even understand Walter? And you dare say my English is bad?"

He picked up a pen, wrote the English word "wat" on a piece of paper, and tapped it with his index finger: "I'll teach you! 'Wat' means something in English."

"Walter?! Hahahaha!" Hu Yi's face almost twisted with laughter: "That's pronounced 'Walter'! I learned that in elementary school!"

"No, no, no," Han Shangyun said seriously, "It's pronounced 'Walter'! I learned it in school!"

The two argued endlessly, and Hu Yi said helplessly, "Haven't you ever seen American movies? The people in them all say 'Walter,' they never say 'Huat'!"

Han Shangyun pondered for a moment, then looked puzzled: "Li Erlei?"

"Li Erlei? What's that now?"

Han Shangyun picked up a pen, wrote "really" next to "what," and explained earnestly, "Li Erlei means 'really.'"

"Li Erlei? Li Erlei?!" Hu Yi laughed so hard he slammed his hand on the table, pointing at the letter "r" and saying, "This letter is pronounced 'r,' not 'Rui Lei'! What Li Erlei! It's more like Wang Erxiao!"

"Walter? Ri—? Ri—" Han Shangyun seemed to have difficulty pronouncing this, and after several attempts, he gave up, revealing a distrustful smile: "Li Erlei? You're not lying to me, are you?"

"Believe it or not, it's up to you." Hu Yi smiled and shook his head, went to the bedside to change his shoes, put on his coat, and picked up his schoolbag: "I have class this afternoon, I have to go to school."

There were two classes this afternoon. After the first class, Hu Yi ran into Li Baoqing at the smoking area.

"Hey Lao Hu, wanna play basketball?" Li Baoqing, wearing basketball shoes and shorts, looked eager to try. "It's been a while since I've had any exercise. I've invited a few classmates to go play together today."

"Play ball?" Hu Yi raised his arms and did a few chest-expanding exercises. "I'd like to go, but I have another class, Sergei's."

"Old Xie?" Li Baoqing stuck out his tongue. "What on earth was he teaching? I couldn't understand a thing of it."

Hu Yi smiled wryly, "My classmates only half understand it, so we just listen and see. Anyway, there's nothing of substance, just enough to get through the exam."

"You guys don't understand either? Hehe, then I'm relieved." Li Baoqing grinned and casually stubbed out his cigarette. "I'll go first. You can come find us at the basketball court after class."

The old professor's lectures were still unrestrained and rambling, jumping from one topic to another, launching into whatever came to mind. After most of the class had passed, Hu Yi started to get restless. The thought of playing basketball soon made him distracted; every joint in his body itched, and he couldn't wait for get out of class to end so he could rush to the basketball court and show off his skills.

He reminisced about his glorious moments on the field, while Sergei, speaking with an air of maturity, declared from the stage: "—Undoubtedly, literary works of every era are inevitably influenced by the social environment of their time, which in turn inspires people's thoughts and even influences the direction of the times to some extent. Therefore, the role of writers in the evolution and progress of language is direct and powerful—speaking of literature, our middle and primary schools place great emphasis on this aspect of education, and foreign students should have also been exposed to some Russian literary works, right?"

"Yes!" the muscular black boy answered loudly, "We read Pushkin's poems in preparatory school, and a few days ago we also studied an excerpt from Gogol's 'Dead Souls'."

"Very good, very good." Sergei looked at him kindly. "May I ask who your favorite Russian writer is?"

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