Chapter 24

Chapter 25

After that meeting, the person who did the most thinking might not actually have been any of the Sun Group executives who attended, but me.

I had always handled everything myself, and these past few years had worn me out. At home I played the good boy; outside, I raced against the clock and counted every last cent. With everything, big and small, coming at me from all sides, I felt that however exhilarating this life was, it was no way to live. Now I had finally delegated all those responsibilities, relying on their individual intelligence and abilities to build on the foundations laid before 1994. That was probably about as much as I could do for now, and the results had already far exceeded my expectations.

That meal with Liu Mingyao and the others brought back many memories. My memory was extraordinarily good now, and even those old details came back with great clarity. I had spent close to ten years of my life, at least, living apart from my parents. For someone who would only turn twenty in 2003, that was an almost painful memory.

Everyone was in high spirits during the meal, but the livelier things got, the lonelier I felt. I excused myself once and stood alone in the restroom, staring blankly into the mirror for ages, all but bursting into tears. There were things I could tell no one, things I could only endure in silence.

I let out a long sigh. After 1998, I had learned to greet everyone with a smile every day, smiling until my facial muscles went stiff, because I knew no one would watch me cry, and crying would solve nothing anyway. Perhaps by now I had even forgotten how to cry.

Zhang Xiaotong was exceptionally sensitive, after all. She stood outside the men's restroom and knocked. "Xingwen? Are you all right?"

I splashed cold water on my face and walked out smiling. "I'm fine. I accidentally drank a little beer earlier. My face felt hot."

Zhang Xiaotong knew me just as well as I knew her. She stared intently at me. "Really?"

I felt a little deflated and waved a hand. "Let's talk when we get back. Don't spoil everyone's fun here."

Zhang Xiaotong nodded and went back with me to keep chatting and laughing with everyone.

I was deeply touched. That kind of silent support was not something you could receive whenever you wanted it. I was lucky to have it.

Everyone drank and chatted happily. Zhang Xiaotong and I smiled along, each with our own thoughts, until the gathering broke up. It was already past three in the afternoon.

The sunshine outside the hotel felt pleasantly warm. I watched their cars leave, then stood in the sunlight, squinting at the bare trees beside the road for a long while. Thinking Zhang Xiaotong might be cold, I turned to ask her, "Xiaotong, are you tired?"

Zhang Xiaotong shook her head. "You're the one doing things most of the time. How could I be tired?"

I sighed. "I'm a little tired. Or rather, a little empty."

Zhang Xiaotong slowly walked behind me and rested both hands on my shoulders. "Take what you want. Let go of what you want to let go of. It's all up to you."

I lowered my head and lightly kissed her little hand. "Easier said than done."

Zhang Xiaotong said softly, "It doesn't really matter. Don't weigh yourself down with so many worries."

I nodded. During that spell of staring into space, I had already worked out a plan. It only remained to see whether I could carry it out properly. I told Zhang Xiaotong, "Give me some time. Let me take a breather."

Zhang Xiaotong asked, "How?"

I said, "Give me a year. Over that year, I'll gradually reduce my guidance of the Sun Group. Of course, before that, I'll write down everything that needs to be done step by step during the year. As long as we keep strengthening the team and fleshing out the group's current structure, have the middle managers keep one another in check, and put the senior managers in different fields, there shouldn't be any major problems."

"We don't need to worry about cutthroat competition for now. We practically dominate the market. In the industries we're involved in, there's basically no one who can challenge us immediately. Foreign companies will have to wait at least another year before they can enter and compete. That year will be enough for us to secure our hold on the market."

"Over the coming year, our first priority is to expand and improve what we've already started. These industries still offer huge profits, and doing well in them is easy. On that foundation, we'll put together a public relations team to help the current senior managers start building connections in every city where we do business. Give sponsorships where appropriate, help the government when it needs help, and build our connections and image."

"I originally planned to handle border trade personally this year, but now that I think about it, that was a little too aggressive. It's a way of making money where it's easy to cross fundamental lines, so let's wait. We should review our investment priorities. We can increase investment in IT manufacturing this year. Memory manufacturing is still big money. There are countless cheap, abandoned munitions factories in Sichuan we can buy. You could take people to inspect them, or simply go yourself after July and treat it as a vacation. We could also make stock information cards. That should be feasible sometime this year."

"Before school starts, find a trading studio, preferably one that handles both futures and stocks, or find two teams and combine them. Stocks and futures over the next couple of years should practically be free money. As long as you have capital, you can't lose. In a few years, it'll be harder to say. China's stock market might become the most dangerous investment venue in the world. We'll offer the highest commissions, so we won't have to worry about finding people."

There should already have been all sorts of independent trading studios by early 1994, but I really had been young in this period and had no idea how good they were. Still, later reports said the numbers of studios and exchanges had grown exponentially, so I reckoned they had done pretty well. Besides, the studios' earnings model was an inevitable direction of development. Anyone opening one in 1994 would have been a capable person with foresight. I said all this in one breath simply because I wanted to give Zhang Xiaotong confidence. We still had money to make. That did not conflict with my personal wish to rest.

More importantly, I knew there was something called the butterfly effect. The number of things in this world under my control had already begun to shrink. Countless opportunities I could originally have grasped had become unknowns because of my appearance. In broad terms, I could foresee things like the Taiwan earthquake, the March 31 earthquake, or the Asian Financial Crisis, but not the specifics of the industries I was involved in now. What I knew now was only the "overall trend," not the "details."

Zhang Xiaotong was stunned by what I had said. "You call that taking a breather?"

I nodded. "If I handled everything personally, I might do even more."

"What do you want to do?"

"Rest," I said. "Eat when it's time to eat, play when it's time to play. Go to school, come home, chat and joke with you, read books, play games, whatever. I need a childhood, sis. Do you understand? You should have one too."

Zhang Xiaotong smiled gently. "Of course I understand. That's why I'm keeping you company."

That smile from the little beauty improved my mood a little. "I've been in such a rotten mood today. How embarrassing. Xiaotong, let's try to get all this sorted out before winter break ends. Don't release too much of the plan at once. Hand it out bit by bit in chronological order. I guarantee the people under us will respect us, and they'll be afraid of us too."

"Afraid?" Zhang Xiaotong looked a little puzzled.

My mood slowly recovered, and my usual cheeky grin returned. "The people the ancients feared most were prophets, because they knew the past and future. As long as you're always right, they'll be afraid. Whether they strike out on their own or harbor disloyal intentions, they can never escape the shadow of your undefeated record."

Zhang Xiaotong pinched me. "You've always been this devious, ever since you were little."

I laughed. "You can never be too careful around people."

Once we got back, I immediately began drafting plans for all these different matters. With no decent writing paper on hand, I had to write them in a student's small-character calligraphy exercise book. So the sight of an elementary school student with a coat draped over him, writing tiny characters beneath a desk lamp in the middle of the night, was every bit as ridiculous as it sounded. Every so often, I even had to console myself: "You're doing this to give yourself a fuller childhood." Then I would mutter, "So full I can barely walk..." Only Zhang Xiaotong had any real inkling of how pathetic and ridiculous that scene was.

After nearly a week of painstaking work, I had written most of the changes I knew about into this set of drafts. I lowered my head and counted things off on my fingers. China would connect to the Internet in 1994. That counted as the arrival of the Internet age. The opportunity for a huge improvement in people's lives was here. Starting next year, we could invest in the Internet. I could not help feeling pleased, but then another thought struck me: in 1994, foreign companies would begin pouring in without pause, steadily increasing competitive pressure; after a period of chaos, China's publishing industry would face another severe crackdown at the end of 1994, throwing publishers into turmoil; in 1994, Taiwan's famous game software company Zhiguan would enter Beijing; in 1994, basic computer education would receive greater emphasis, sharply increasing schools' demand for computers; in 1994, a magazine called King of Picture Books would appear in China, published by Sichuan Hope Bookstore, sweeping the country within a year before falling silent, and Japanese manga would begin its decade-long domination of China's publishing market that year, though it was all pirated; in 1994, China Film would import its first blockbuster, The Fugitive; in 1994, China's football league would turn professional, with match-fixing coming thick and fast...

To be honest, during that meal with everyone, I had suddenly realized something: no matter how much I gained, there were things I might never be able to get back. When I used to play games, I would consider reloading multiple times to try every possibility. But now I had only one chance to reload, and I had chosen the most impatient, short-term approach.

It was like playing an RPG and only advancing the story without leveling up. Though I had gone far, far beyond everyone else, my level was still very low. One careless move could easily wipe out the whole party.

So I decided to let go, lie low, and search for the things I had never had.

I gave myself two years. Everything I had accomplished so far gave me the confidence to change what I had originally been unable to change.

On February 14, 1994, I gave Zhang Xiaotong a flower basket for Valentine's Day that delighted and surprised her. Her happiness and excitement reminded me of the ridiculous times when friends had gathered and boasted about how tough they were for never giving their girlfriends a single flower. The flowers were not the point. The thought was. When we were young, we understood too little about love and thought too highly of ourselves.

Because Zhang Xiaotong's parents had returned to China, we did not see each other as often as before. I frequently went to play with Guo Zhen and the others, running from the east side of town to the west. Through Guo Zhen, I met some of his "Third Brother's" buddies, though I never met Third Brother himself, and several friends' parents gradually became familiar with me too.

I threw myself into playing with them, trying to recover the childhood I had never had. I kept playing until late February, just before school started. At dinner one evening, I told my parents the first thing I wanted to do.

My parents seemed to be in a fairly good mood that evening, so I cautiously raised the idea. "I... I want to go straight to junior high..."

Ever since my parents' relationship had soured, I had rarely spoken to either of them. They found it strange that I had suddenly volunteered something like this, but at least they did not immediately lose their tempers.

I continued, "Xiaotong let me read her textbooks over winter break. I think I could keep up with junior high classes..."

Dad glared at me. "Do you really understand them, or are you pretending? Don't think you're something special just because you came first in your year. Can elementary school material compare with junior high?"

I breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed my consistent image as a good student had helped a little. His reaction was actually not very fierce.

I said, "Over winter break, I did twenty test papers Xiaotong photocopied for me, covering the first and second years of junior high. I didn't score below ninety in any subject. Xiaotong also suggested I go to junior high. I already know everything we're learning in class now."

Mom said nothing and exchanged a look with Dad. Zhang Xiaotong's name probably carried some authority in our house now. Even the provincial newspaper called her a girl genius, so anything she thought appropriate surely could not be wrong. I also understood that although Mom and my aunt were as close as sisters, seeing someone else's child called a prodigy would inevitably leave her feeling a little uncomfortable. That was precisely why I had dared to propose going to junior high. None of the neighbors' children had skipped grades yet. This was a fine chance to make them proud.

Dad had always had a bad temper, yet now even he became amiable. "What else did Xiaotong say?"

I said, "She said if I wanted to enter junior high, she could introduce me. She knows people. She just told me to come home and ask you..."

Having said that, I looked pitifully at my parents, as if to say how terribly wronged I would be if they refused to let me go.

That tactic worked somewhat. Mom spoke first. "Xingwen really does get very good grades."

Dad lit a cigarette and took a few drags. "That's true, but what about his elementary school diploma?"

Mom glared at him. "Do you think it's still like when you graduated? What damn use is an elementary school diploma now? Even a junior high diploma is useless. If Xingwen could go straight to senior high, I'd support him."

"Look at you, getting carried away. Why not send your son to the University of Science and Technology's gifted youth program?" Dad stubbed out his cigarette. "Ask Xiaotong over tomorrow so we can talk to her. We don't know much about school matters. We'd better get things clear."

Seeing that my goal was more or less achieved, I felt pleased. At the same time, I felt a little wistful. My parents seemed to be starting to care about my future too. Did that mean I had been wrong, the last time around, to leave home in anger and live under someone else's roof?

Whatever the case, getting the two of them to speak civilly, giving them a little pleasant surprise and something in life to look forward to, meant I had achieved my initial goal. For now, this was all I could do. I dared not tell them how much money I had made. That had to come little by little.

Everything was sorrow for a poor couple, and that saying applied much the same to any family. I did not dare claim what I could accomplish now. I could only try to see whether money could change a few things.

Zhang Xiaotong had heard my plan long before. She tactfully told my parents that although I was already capable of studying at junior high level, my young age would make me an easy target for bullying. Her suggestion was to let me finish the junior high curriculum before considering anything further, because the education system changed every year, and she could not guarantee that her earlier suggestion of sending me to junior high was the best choice. After sitting in the Crimson Youth editorial office and listening to Zhang Xiaotong deliver a series of arguments that amounted to saying nothing, my parents retained their confidence in my future prospects while abandoning the idea of sending me straight to junior high.

In fact, my original intention had only been to increase their confidence and distract them from their daily arguments.

Afterward, I praised Zhang Xiaotong. "Not bad, sis. You're nearly ready to graduate from your apprenticeship."

Zhang Xiaotong smiled with pursed lips. "I'm still miles behind you, aren't I? How do you plan to resolve the problems between them?"

I spread my hands. "More communication, I suppose. I've been withdrawn since I was little. Maybe that disheartened them too?"

Zhang Xiaotong pointed at me theatrically. "You? Withdrawn?"

I shrugged. "Only you know my true colors. The whole world is still in the dark."

Of course, not the whole world was in the dark. Almost everyone knew Zhang Xiaotong was the editor-in-chief of Crimson Youth, and some people knew I wrote a column for it. It was probably only the inside story of the Sun Group behind it that just a handful of people in the world knew. Still, judging by the current situation, it would not matter even if people found out. Zhang Xiaotong's status was gradually rising, and she could keep things under control if anything happened.

Once things were settled with my parents, the new semester began.

PS: China Film's first imported movie was indeed The Fugitive, a fine film I once considered a demonstration of the director's and actors' skill.