Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Nothing major had happened lately, but little things kept cropping up.

At the end of June, my parents' factory began suspending production because of losses. I knew that over the next few years, a term would become familiar to everyone: layoffs. While many people watched the World Cup and remembered Baggio's tears, many others began shedding tears and struggling to make a living. Broadly speaking, the second wave of people to get rich mostly got their start around this time.

Suspended production meant unpaid wages and declining financial security. I knew I needed Zhang Xiaotong's help to solve the problem. She began visiting my home frequently, bringing gifts and fresh news every time, talking about ways forward for laid-off workers and offering my parents suggestions. I knew it wasn't easy for people accustomed to the security of a state-owned enterprise to suddenly break habits formed over more than a decade, so I resorted to the crude method of using a living example. Zhang Xiaotong was now the model everyone in the family competed to emulate. Every aunt and uncle came asking her for help whenever they had the chance. After all, she had endorsed a well-known electronics brand, was a famous young writer, and had started a magazine that brought in advertising money hand over fist. Now everyone in the Zhou family praised Grandma for taking in such a wonderful goddaughter, who had in turn produced such a wonderful daughter...

Zhang Xiaotong's frequent visits did a great deal to ease my parents' financial crisis, as well as the crisis in their relationship. The money ostensibly given to me as pocket money all passed through my hands into theirs. I had no intention of making the two of them rich overnight. Changes like this were better introduced slowly with them. After all, I understood my parents. Had they been ambitious people, they wouldn't have sat doing nothing while production was suspended.

Zhang Xiaotong didn't give me much at a time, anywhere from five hundred to eight hundred, twice a month, and I handed every cent to my parents. My youngest aunt didn't mind what she was doing, and with her backing Xiaotong, my uncle couldn't very well object. The older relatives thought my aunt had instructed Zhang Xiaotong to give my family money in such a roundabout fashion, but my aunt knew better. She secretly asked her, "Why don't you give Xinglu money?"

By now, Zhang Xiaotong could tell barefaced lies without any coaching from me. "His family isn't short of money. I can't just give Eldest Aunt money directly, can I? How embarrassing would it be for her to take money from a child?"

That made sense, leaving my aunt little to say. She merely gave her daughter a meaningful look. "You're my daughter. Whatever you do, I have to take your side. Make sure you handle things properly."

Zhang Xiaotong vividly reenacted my aunt's words for me, leaving me marveling inwardly. Like daughter, like mother indeed. Most of Zhang Xiaotong's cheerful disposition must have come from my aunt.

Actually, this was pretty good.

Around this time, the restaurant my eldest uncle's wife and my aunt's husband had jointly invested in opened too, and business was fairly good. They had their own money to make and wouldn't meddle in our family affairs. My second uncle left his public-sector institution to work in administration at a private company, earning a substantial income as well. Everyone in the family was flourishing. Only my parents still insisted on waiting for the factory to resume production.

I could only wait and see.

During this period, a call came from Beijing telling us that Third Brother's operation had been scheduled. He would need to recuperate in Beijing for a month afterward before coming home. Zhang Xiaotong repeatedly urged them to take good care of Third Brother. Seeing how much attention we were paying, Guo Zhen felt less worried too.

Zhou Xinglu no longer showed his face around us at all. He disliked me intensely and was always picking fights with me, all because Zhang Xiaotong remained so close to me. Once, he pushed me too far, and I called in seven or eight of Guo Zhen's buddies to surround him and give him a scare. What I said was simple: stop bothering me for no reason, or I would have people wait outside his school and beat him up every day. He could forget about running home to tell his dad too. If he dared tell, I would have people strip him naked and dump him outside the girls' toilets.

After several years of exercise, although I wasn't as tall as Zhou Xinglu, I was much sturdier. I wasn't remotely afraid of fighting him one-on-one. After that scare, he practically went out of his way to avoid me. The reason was simple: among the people I brought to corner him that day was someone his school's so-called "boss" called "Big Brother."

Zhang Xiaotong didn't skip the entrance exams just because she had guaranteed admission. At noon on the day of the exam, I went to see her at the testing site. July 1994 was hotter than in previous years. Anxious parents crowded outside the gates. In just three short days, a few little exam papers might decide someone's entire life. Watching them beneath the blazing sun made my chest tighten. How many people at this very moment wanted an education but couldn't get through the door? How many wore away all their youth as day followed night? The few shabby parasols by the school gates blocked little sunlight. Most people soaked their hopes in the sweat of the heat.

Zhang Xiaotong was the first to leave the exam room. Under my influence, she had long since grown accustomed to handing in her paper at the earliest opportunity. We left hand in hand under the astonished gazes of many parents. Partway down the road, I looked back at that sea of heads and couldn't help feeling a little sad. I asked Zhang Xiaotong, "Were the questions hard?"

"No. I didn't dare answer too quickly." Zhang Xiaotong glanced back too, then noticed something off about my expression. "What's wrong?"

I smiled helplessly. "I just don't think this whole setup means much. You know what your classmates have been like these past few months."

Of course Zhang Xiaotong knew. Because many people knew about her guaranteed admission, she had endured plenty of dirty looks from her classmates these past few months. Luckily, she had seen something of the ways of the world and could laugh off those looks and slanders. She saw how hard her classmates were studying and occasionally mentioned it to me, feeling a little sorry for them.

Zhang Xiaotong casually pinched my cheek. "Who are you to get all philosophical? Aren't you starting junior high next year too? Have you decided where to go?"

"Me? I'm in no hurry... Schools choose me, not the other way around," I said. "Besides, wherever I want to go, wouldn't it be easy to have my Xiaotong put in a word?"

The words "my Xiaotong" made our Miss Zhang blush a little. Apparently, years of training alongside me still hadn't thickened her skin. I knew she actually liked hearing that. I had picked up a smattering of psychology from others too, and knew how to sweet-talk girls.

Especially girls who had feelings for me.

"Thanks for your hard work today. Let me treat you to something cold."

Zhang Xiaotong smiled brightly. "Sure."

Seated in a Snow Fate branch that now belonged to someone else, Zhang Xiaotong was soon recognized by the branch manager. "You, you're..." He didn't know how to address Snow Fate's former owner, much less expect her to return so casually to a shop she had sold just to have something to eat.

Zhang Xiaotong smiled. "I'm here to eat."

The manager nodded hurriedly. "Yes, of course. What would you two like?"

We ordered the newly introduced handmade pastry ice cream. It seemed that Sui fellow really had put in some work, bringing in something that shouldn't have reached a small city like this for another few years. As I remembered it, I hadn't tasted this until around 1999, and even then only thanks to someone else. These days, going out for frozen desserts generally meant ordering a three-flavor scoop sundae or a banana split. I could tell Sui's frozen-dessert business wasn't doing as well as he wanted.

Still, Snow Fate remained the dominant cake shop over these two years. A handful of others had opened, but none had beaten him. He had probably made quite a lot, and naturally wouldn't blame Zhang Xiaotong for dumping a mess on him.

The midday sunlight fell languidly over the street. Far down the straight road, I could actually see a shimmering reflection, a sign of extreme heat. I remarked casually, "It would be good to set up frozen-dessert stalls outside the testing sites these next couple of days."

It was only an idle remark to Zhang Xiaotong, but the manager bringing our food heard it, and his eyes lit up.

Seeing his shining eyes, Zhang Xiaotong gave me a mischievous smile. "Such talent. Even your casual remarks make money."

"Oh, hardly." I stole a backward glance at the manager, who had started pulling a shop assistant aside to say something. "He's just sensitive. One touch and he reacts."

"Gross." Zhang Xiaotong raised her spoon as though to hit me. "I still have an exam this afternoon. Don't wait for me."

"Okay. I'll go hang out with Yang Yuanzhe and the others this afternoon." I counted on my fingers. "I've been so busy reviewing along with everyone else lately that I haven't seen them in almost three weeks, right? If they hadn't needed our classrooms for you people going through Black July, we probably wouldn't even have a break."

Our exams had been postponed by a week this year. That meant a week that should have belonged to summer vacation would be filled with exam papers instead, which really annoyed me. As the saying went, the sea of learning was endless, but turn back and shore was at hand. Fortunately, both the primary-school entrance exams and the senior-high entrance exams required plenty of testing rooms, forcing a few lucky schools to give us several days off. I simply ignored the mountain of homework the teachers had assigned and came to see Zhang Xiaotong during her exams.

I imagined my good buddies were having the time of their lives right now too. I felt that, of everyone I had known growing up, not one took the tasks school assigned seriously. To put it nicely, they were all rebellious talents.

To be fair, I didn't dislike China's education system. After all, its basic education was much better than that of other countries. What I disliked was the group of people implementing it.

Even in other countries, I would probably dislike their teachers too, wouldn't I?

Those who freely gossiped about people in front of students, groped girls' bottoms during PE, refused to admit mistakes, inflicted corporal punishment, cursed at every opportunity, judged by appearances, harbored prejudices... Education itself was a good thing. Put these people in charge of it, and it became a bad thing.

Throw in a few eager for quick success and combine that with the virtues listed above, and the effect was even better.

Of course, everyone knew that mistakes arose whenever living people implemented a fixed system. I simply insisted that educators should face stricter standards and receive better treatment, concentrating as much of humanity's excellence as possible at this particular stage.

Not everyone understood what to accept and reject during childhood. Once something negative was passed on, a child might carry it for a lifetime without ever shaking it off.

My thoughts had wandered far, leaving my expression a little vacant. Seeing me silently holding the straw between my lips, Zhang Xiaotong waved a hand in front of my face.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?"

"Ge Ling."

Over the past two years, Stories from the Editorial Board had won everyone's hearts. People still vaguely remembered that classic line, making it something of a pop-culture fixture. Of course, everyone had moved on to watching I Love My Family now.

Zhang Xiaotong pouted. "Try something else. In your own words, that's so last century."

Without realizing it, I had taught her internet slang popular in 2003, only for her to turn it straight back on me. Left with no choice, I countered, "Fine. I was thinking about you."

At that, Zhang Xiaotong immediately blushed. "Me?"

"Yeah," I said. "I was remembering the first little beauty I ever laid eyes on. Eight years have gone by in a flash."

At first, Zhang Xiaotong didn't notice the question of how many other little beauties had followed that "first little beauty." She merely joined me in leisurely remembering our first conversation, when I told her an amusing story. As she thought, her expression began to change. Before long, realization struck. "Well, well! You already knew how to flirt with your big sister when you were that little. What must you be like now?"

I grinned cheekily at her delicate little nose. "Now I devote all my attention to being flirted with by my big sister."

Zhang Xiaotong's shamelessness wasn't remotely in my league. In a confrontation, defeat was her only option. "I can't win against you."

I just loved seeing her looking a little deflated yet still cheerful. So cute. Over these past two years, Zhang Xiaotong had become increasingly skilled at dressing herself. At school, she obediently played the good student, but the moment she stepped outside the gates, she became dazzling, like a transforming Japanese magical girl, without even needing makeup. Especially during this final year of junior high, I had practically worn out my hands helping her dispose of love letters.

Rich and pretty. Boys these days were practical too. That was exactly the sort they pursued.

Things would probably get even livelier in senior high, but I had considerable faith in Zhang Xiaotong. Her standards were extraordinarily high now, and she knew every variety of deft deflection. Probably no boy would get the better of her.

Beautiful girls were everywhere, but beautiful, intelligent girls were exceedingly hard to find.

That afternoon, after calling Yang Yuanzhe and the others, I went to wait outside the testing site for Zhang Xiaotong anyway. I discovered that several Snow Fate branches had already set up frozen-dessert stalls and parasols outside the various sites. This manager moved fast. He had talent. The chairs had barely been set out before they were nearly full. Parents who had been sweating buckets now sat in little groups discussing their children's futures. I sat somewhere inconspicuous and ordered an ice cream to eat while I waited.

The manager I had met briefly at noon actually showed up too, cheerfully coming over to sit opposite me. "Miss Zhang's little brother?"

In a few years, the word "miss" would become thoroughly derogatory. It was fine when I used it to tease Zhang Xiaotong, but hearing it from someone else made me frown.

I kept eating without raising my head. "Mm."

"Your sister's taking the exam?"

I slapped the novel I had been reading on my lap shut on the table. "Yes."

The manager had no idea how he had offended me and looked rather puzzled, but remained friendly. Lowering his head, he glanced at my book. "Invisible Cities? You read Calvino?"

Now it was my turn to be surprised. He had actually read Calvino too. That was unexpected. As I remembered it, only after 2000 had Calvino become an obligatory topic for literary youths. So many people read him that he was even derided as a "literary celebrity." Countless female writers enjoying their moment in the limelight proudly declared that they disdained Calvino because he had become too popular.

In 1994, how many people knew Calvino? Everyone still worshipped Wang Shuo's hooligan literature and Jin Yong's traditional mastery, while the younger generation's attention had shifted toward Japanese pop culture, with manga everywhere. University students discussed Sartre's plays and existentialism. Who knew what Six Memos for the Next Millennium was? Who was mentioning If on a Winter's Night a Traveler?

I couldn't help warming a little to this unremarkable-looking middle-aged manager. Apparently, he possessed not only a sensitive nose for business but also a heart as sensitive as a young literary enthusiast's...

"I've read it before. I'm rereading it," I said. "I particularly like the passage where the Khan says he can't see the territories he conquered. It gets right to the heart of things."

The manager became interested. Hearing such words from a child who looked like a primary-school student, or at most not yet a first-year junior-high student, was evidently a pleasant surprise to him.

Life was full of surprises, though not everyone was good at noticing them.

"Can you understand it?"

"More or less." I casually opened the book. "I actually prefer If on a Winter's Night a Traveler, but Invisible Cities has more big ideas."

"You mean the Khan's account?" the manager asked. "What did you get from it?"

"Passing clouds," I said with a smile. "A self-important ruler's dominion lasts less than a hundred years, while the humble make up his cities and their prosperity. Life and death are like weeping. Empires crumble and are rebuilt, nothing more than a thousand-year cycle of rise and fall. The history any people takes pride in amounts to only a few thousand years frittered away."

In 2002, I had spent plenty of time dealing with literary types online. This sort of literary rhetoric was a dime a dozen, provided saying it didn't turn your own stomach. The manager opposite me listened with his eyes wide. Judging by his expression, he was searching his memory to see whether I was recycling something without crediting it. After thinking for a long while, he apparently found no similar commentary, which astonished him even more.

I laughed inwardly. There were only two possibilities if he couldn't identify the source: either the child before him had come up with those words himself, or the child had read more widely and extensively than he had. Either possibility was absurd enough. How could he not be surprised?

He wasn't stupid. Remembering that my sister was the editor-in-chief of Crimson Youth, he reasoned that I would naturally have plenty of books to read, and relaxed after a moment's thought. "Well said. I actually prefer If on a Winter's Night a Traveler too. That feeling of a wonderful opening that leaves endless room to savor is fantastic."

"That's why he's so formidable. He didn't just write the beginnings of ten novels; he pioneered many creative forms too." Thinking of the lively spectacle after 2000, when everyone spread tarot cards across a table to write stories, I couldn't help sighing. "Actually, I'm not that fond of Calvino. What he pursues is a breakthrough in form. His victory is one of individual creativity. I prefer victories for popular culture."

The manager chuckled. "For example?"

"Popular fiction, movies, music, even cartoons and comics. These things don't need much change in form. Give them slightly richer content, and lots of people can benefit." I wanted to cite the Japanese anime Slam Dunk, which had created a basketball craze in China after more than a decade of unanswered calls from the education ministry, but abandoned the idea since few people here probably knew it yet. "Things made for the majority, things accepted by the majority, possess unlimited influence and power to change people. Add a little more positive meaning, and they can do very well. Trends can change people for better or worse. It only takes a little more thought from those creating them."

I was simply speaking from my feelings about the current state of education. My words were casual, but the listener took them to heart. The middle-aged man opposite me looked at me differently now and raised his thumb. "Very well said." One extra word compared with his earlier "well said," with an effect just like the old monk's progression from "sit" to "please sit" to "please take the seat of honor" on meeting Zheng Banqiao-or Su Dongpo, in another version.

I smiled at him. "I haven't asked your name yet."

The middle-aged manager slapped his forehead. "Ah, I forgot. Your sister met me when she handed things over to Boss Sui, so I assumed you knew me too. Sun Changlu."

"Zhou Xingwen."

Sun Changlu nodded. "So you're that talented young fellow. I've read your work."

I was startled. "You read Crimson Youth too?"

"Yes, yes." Sun Changlu waved a waiter over for a drink, then took a large gulp. "It's a really good magazine. My son finds it fun, and so do I. You and your sister are both child prodigies."

"You flatter us. We just spend our playtime on other things." I gently sidestepped the subject. "Have you worked at Snow Fate long?"

"Yes. Ever since your sister sold the shop."

"It must be tiring. My sister transferred it to Boss Sui because she found it exhausting. Competition in the cake business is fierce."

Within three sentences, we were back to his trade. Once business came up, Sun Changlu stopped caring that I was just a child. He sighed. "Yes. Everyone's doing it now. There are plenty of low-cost bakeries too, squeezing profit margins very low."

I smiled. "You could do other things. Chinese pastries, Chinese fast food. After Western cakes, you could branch into Western food, a little at a time. The food business is all connected. You can't stake everything on birthday cakes, can you?"

Sun Changlu nodded at first, then shook his head after thinking. "How could I do all that? I'm just an employee. As they say, humanities people can't do business. I'm already quite satisfied just keeping things as they are."

I was about to say something when several voices sounded behind me. "Hey, Xingwen, living the good life here?"

No need to think. My three buddies had arrived. I invited them to sit with us. Judging by the time, Zhang Xiaotong should emerge in another ten minutes or so at most. She was always even more impatient than me during exams.

Sun Changlu looked at the other three. "Your friends?"

I nodded and introduced them one by one. After hearing the introductions, Sun Changlu called the waiter over again and ordered an ice cream each for Yang Yuanzhe and the others.

"Don't be shy, everyone. My treat."

I shamelessly laughed along. "You're too kind, Uncle Sun. We haven't earned this. We feel guilty accepting, haha..."

Sun Changlu copied my tone. "Not at all. One remark from you gave me an idea. Surely treating you boys to a bite after making some money is fine? I've learned quite a lot today, haha..."

"You're embarrassing us, Uncle Sun, haha..."

The other three grasped the situation, kept quiet, and concentrated on their ice cream. Before long, Zhang Xiaotong walked gracefully out of the school gates. She spotted me from far away through the layers of heads and waved.

"Well, Uncle Sun, I have to go." I stood and took out a pen, lowering my head to write a telephone number on a slip of paper. "This is my sister's editorial office number. If anything comes up, or things aren't going well, you can contact us." The implication was clear. I could tell he wouldn't be working for Sui Yunfei much longer.

Sun Changlu was surprised at how much more seasoned my speech and conduct were than those of others my age, but wasn't particularly puzzled. He noted the number, nodded, and went to attend to business.

Only after Sun Changlu left did Zhang Xiaotong approach. "Well? What were you chatting about with that uncle?"

I shrugged. "Literature."

"You, discussing literature?" Zhang Xiaotong laughed and snatched my half-eaten ice cream. "You're not trying to poach someone from Sui Yunfei, are you?"

"I wouldn't dare. He's a foreign investor now, after all. How would I dare? I only left a phone number... Have you finished your exams, ma'am?"

"All done. Didn't you say you weren't coming to wait for me?"

I smiled. "Look at us boys. We're so broke you couldn't squeeze a drop out of us with eight poles. We had to wait for you to come show mercy and treat us, didn't we?"

Zhang Xiaotong laughed happily. She knew perfectly well that I couldn't possibly be short of money. It was merely an excuse for outsiders.

"All right, then. My treat today. Shall we go home and play games first, or what?"

"Whatever!" I said. "I follow my leader. Wherever you go, I go."

Zhang Xiaotong glanced at me and said quietly, "Same here."

...Big sister, was that a dose of sweet talk? I was moved!