Chapter 5

Chapter 6

In 1991, Operation Desert Storm began, and the Gulf War broke out. I knew roughly how many people died in this war, but I could never tell from the news.

I also knew that this year, the Soviet Union, the largest socialist country in the world, would dissolve, to be replaced by Russia and the Commonwealth of Independent States.

This year, civil war broke out in Yugoslavia.

Zhang Xiaotong and I walked through a park where the grass was beginning to turn green.

The wind swept up her hair, which fell past her shoulders. She had a high, straight nose and a childlike face, stood more than a head taller than me, and had begun to develop curves beneath her jacket. I felt that Zhang Xiaotong really had grown into a young woman, unlike before, when she had only matured mentally.

"This park used to be a landlord's garden," I said, glancing at the soft down on Zhang Xiaotong's neck. "Pretty big, isn't it?"

"Mm." Zhang Xiaotong reached up to smooth her hair, a gesture that made her look very feminine. "Would you like a garden like this too?"

I looked at her and smiled.

"What do you think?"

"I think there's a lot going on in your head, but I don't know what. You always like to hide yourself away. Of course no one knows what you're thinking."

"Ah... you give me a headache when you say that. My dear sister, what have I hidden from you? Haven't I shared everything I know with you? Even my money is yours..."

"Heh..." Zhang Xiaotong sneered. "If I hadn't discovered your secret, would you have let me know any of this? If I hadn't found out, were you planning to hide it from me for the rest of my life?"

Of course I wouldn't hide it from her for her entire life. Of all the siblings and cousins in the family, she talked to me the most. Since she had brought it up, I might as well explain things.

Taking Zhang Xiaotong's hand, I found a bench and sat down, then asked seriously, "Sis, you've known me since I was born. You could say you watched me grow up. What do you think of your little brother?"

Seeing that I was serious, Zhang Xiaotong lowered her head and thought for a while before giving a brief answer: "Good. Very good."

Holding Zhang Xiaotong's hand, I asked seriously again, "Then, of all the things I've asked you to do, have any struck you as completely wrong?"

This time, Zhang Xiaotong shook her head without even thinking. "No."

"Then let me ask you this," I said. "Have you ever thought about what you wanted to do? You definitely hadn't before, but now you have, right?"

Zhang Xiaotong nodded. "The things our teachers teach us are a little silly. What someone does isn't important. What matters is being able to do what you want and make yourself and the people around you happy."

"That way of thinking basically earns you a passing grade."

"Basically?" Zhang Xiaotong's eyes widened. "Then tell me what would earn a full pass."

"It's not about what earns a pass." I gestured as I spoke to Zhang Xiaotong. "You've heard of Hu Xueyan, right? The red-topped merchant."

"Yes. The Fragrance of Osmanthus in August."

I paused, then said, "There's a line at the start of the novel about Hu Xueyan, the red-topped merchant: if your vision encompasses a county, you can do business across a county; if your vision encompasses a province, you can do business across a province; if your vision encompasses the world, you can do business across the world."

"What a person can learn in a lifetime is very, very limited. Television is always telling us how advanced our technology is and how much science has progressed. Some magazine even predicted that by 2005, three grains of rice would fill us up for a meal. I'm telling you, that's all nonsense. Our technology is very, very backward. Our understanding of nature is limited to consuming natural resources."

"We always think we know everything, but in fact, we know nothing."

At this point, I paused and explained to Zhang Xiaotong that this was the final conclusion Montaigne had mentioned in Essays.

Looking at the trees just beginning to bud in the park, I said to Zhang Xiaotong, "I don't know how a person should live their life either, but I do know one thing. If we can make this world a little better, we should do everything we can to make it a little better. If we can influence many people and get them to think the same way, then this world will definitely improve. Even if it doesn't, there will still be a few more things to make people happy. To let more people leave behind their writing, music, films, or ideas, and let even more people see more things and understand the world better, I'm willing to be someone who might even be a bad person. As long as I can create situations that give some people opportunities because of what I've done, I'll be very satisfied."

Zhang Xiaotong thought carefully for a long time before she began to understand what I was saying. These thoughts had been circling in my mind for more than a day. Ever since I had seen that beggar, I had thought about a great deal. Perhaps I couldn't change suffering or change the world, but I could change the people around me. The idea sounded childish, yet I hoped I really could do something. Once someone died, all fame and fortune had nothing more to do with them. Doing a little more while alive was already the greatest affirmation of one's life.

I had been considering it since last year. There might be many people who could help me in the future, but right now, there was only Zhang Xiaotong. I had thought these words through carefully before saying them to her. She had reached the point where she could understand them, and she was worthy of my trust.

I turned sideways to admire Zhang Xiaotong's beautiful profile. Viewed from the side, her nose and the space between her eyebrows formed a breathtaking curve, one I could look at for a long time.

Only after quite a while did Zhang Xiaotong recover and smile at me. "Does this count as ideological education?"

"Something like that, but it depends on which comrade is receiving the education." I scratched my head. "If it were Zhou Xinglu and the others, I'd rather not say a word."

Zhou Xinglu was my cousin, my father's elder brother's son. He was three years older than me and a year younger than Zhang Xiaotong. Whenever he had nothing to do, he liked to cling to Zhang Xiaotong and ask her to play with him. Zhang Xiaotong had quite a few objections to that.

I had only mentioned him casually, but Zhang Xiaotong actually blushed-I hadn't seen her blush in a long time, not since her declaration about touching thighs.

"You... you don't like me playing with him, do you?"

Zhang Xiaotong's question startled me so much that I shuddered. "Sis, I never said I didn't want you to, did I? I was just giving a random example..."

"Books say the subconscious is the one thing that can't lie. You dislike him anyway, don't you?"

"Not at all..." I shamelessly put on an ingratiating smile. "It's just that when you're annoyed, I'm annoyed too."

Zhang Xiaotong laughed and spat at me. "How old are you? Already such a sweet-talker. What are you going to be like when you're older?"

"That depends on who I'm talking to." I smiled at the braid by Zhang Xiaotong's temple. "When have you ever seen me sweet-talk anyone else?"

"You just know I'm easy to pick on." Zhang Xiaotong pinched my nose. "Why don't you sweet-talk that girl in your class? Are you afraid she won't fall for it?"

Moving Zhang Xiaotong's hand away from my nose, I gave a laugh. "Sis, you underestimate your little brother."

"How so?"

"Do you think the little girls in my class are as wise as you?" I started with some flattery. "Do they know right from wrong? Have they seen so many things? And of course, most importantly, are they as pretty as you?"

I reached over and touched Zhang Xiaotong's nose. "You're used to applying the behavior of the boys around you to people younger or older than you. But really, at my age, isn't winning a little girl's favor easy? Get good grades, take part in more class activities, knock down some idiot who's always bullying girls in front of everyone, then treat them to snacks a few times... never mind second grade, I could probably win over a whole bunch even in your class."

Zhang Xiaotong blinked without saying anything.

"So winning over little girls isn't difficult," I concluded cautiously. "What's really difficult in life is finding someone who understands you."

Zhang Xiaotong murmured the words again. "Someone who understands you..."

I struck while the iron was hot. "Right. Harder than becoming a billionaire."

Watching Zhang Xiaotong slowly nod, I reckoned to myself, This should count as my first loyal follower, right?

After our heart-to-heart, I told Zhang Xiaotong to help me with three things.

First, get an ID card. Whatever method she used, she had to get it done for me within three years. Falsifying her age or pulling strings-it didn't matter. What mattered was having an ID card that could be used to get things done.

Second, starting now, I would find ways to make money, mainly through writing fees. I might use her name, so besides taking on the nominal responsibilities of authorship for me, she would also have to keep the money well hidden.

Third, show a little more maturity openly in front of her parents and work to win their trust.

"Sorry," I said to Zhang Xiaotong, feeling a little apologetic. "For now, I can only put you out in front for people to see. It'll be a few more years before I can step forward myself."

Zhang Xiaotong didn't seem to mind much. "It's fine. Don't books say women are born diplomats? I'd like to try dealing with more things too."

"Good, then." With a sly chuckle, I pulled out a stack of manuscript pages and handed them to her. "This is a new story I wrote. Science fiction. Go submit it to the first Galaxy Cup Youth Science Fiction Writing Contest."

If I remembered correctly, there was only one first-prize winner in the youth division of this year's science fiction contest: Super Memory. It shouldn't be too difficult for me to claim another spot.

As expected, two months later, Zhang Xiaotong had acquired the title of young writer. Happy to have some peace, I hid in a corner and watched Zhang Xiaotong deal with the city newspaper reporters who had come to interview her on hearing of her reputation. I roughly worked out the timing. With the Soviet Union dissolving at the end of the year, the profession of shuttle trader would start appearing, wouldn't it? If I remembered correctly, Zhang Xiaotong's parents would get involved too. Thinking of my aunt and uncle, who looked so much like intellectuals, standing on Russian streets with fur hats, scarves, and other light industrial goods, loudly hawking, "Khorosho! Khorosho!" made me want to laugh.

After another week or so, the writer craze died down, and the family had grown somewhat used to it. Zhang Xiaotong's parents went away again, leaving us plenty of time.

"My writer sister," I said to Zhang Xiaotong, "come somewhere with me."

"Where?"

"The arcade."

By 1991, the hottest period of huge profits for video games in China had already passed. Licensed and unlicensed arcades were everywhere. Token prices had fallen from two for a yuan to more than six for a yuan, and the tokens themselves had gone from brass to iron. Thinking of the scene a dozen years later, with children walking all over the streets holding GBAs, I scratched my head. The Super Nintendo had only come out this year. I was thinking too far ahead.

My main reason for going to the arcade was to find someone. In the normal course of my life, I should have met him in my second year of middle school, but I couldn't wait any longer.

Arcades were all doing good business now. This was Zhang Xiaotong's first visit to one, and she found it fascinating. I introduced her to the various games, including the pornographic ones where drawing lines revealed photographs of naked women. Girls occasionally came to the arcade, and the players were used to it. At most, they glanced over a few times. To them, games were much more pleasing to the eye than beautiful girls.

I walked a few steps down the arcade's long, narrow aisle and saw the back of a boy two years older than me playing Adventures in the Magic Realm. For no apparent reason, a surge of excitement rose within me.

I had Zhang Xiaotong stand to one side, then went over and put in a token. "Two players?"

He didn't even look up. "Sure."

I dropped a token in, joined the game, and worked with him all the way to the end without buying a single weapon or picking up a single extra gold coin.

The ending screen was boring. He shoved the joystick aside and glanced at me. "You're really good."

"You're not bad either," I said, extending my hand. "Zhou Xingwen. Want to be friends?"

Seeing a child two years younger than him offering a handshake, the little fatty in front of me didn't stand on ceremony. "Yang Yuanzhe, Tsinghua Primary School. You?"

"Beiguan City No. 1 Primary School." I handed him a few tokens. "Want to try something else?"

"You name it. There isn't a game I can't play!"

And so, Zhang Xiaotong stood to one side and watched us play games all afternoon. We kept playing until dusk, when I asked Yang Yuanzhe, "In a hurry to get home? Want to get something to eat? My treat."

Knowing Yang Yuanzhe as I did, he certainly wouldn't refuse. The three of us walked to a roadside stall, and I took the opportunity to introduce Zhang Xiaotong to him. Until then, he hadn't once properly looked at my pretty cousin, which showed just how much games appealed to him. We found somewhere to sit, ordered some grilled lamb skewers and cold dishes, and ate by the street. Although I didn't remember much about early-nineties arcade games, my sharpened memory was more than enough to keep up with Yang Yuanzhe's conversation.

Yang Yuanzhe had never met anyone who could talk so much about video games with him and was clearly delighted. He was only in fourth grade at the time, but he was already very bright. Whatever I said, he caught on with the slightest hint. I brought up the development of video games and told him about the powerful performance of Japan's Super Nintendo console. Looking utterly captivated, Yang Yuanzhe asked me roughly how much a console like that cost.

I made an estimate and answered, "The console probably costs over three thousand yuan, and each game is five to seven hundred."

Yang Yuanzhe immediately deflated. "Fuck, that expensive?"

I shrugged. "The standard of living is different. Our living expenses here are low, so entertainment is relatively expensive."

Yang Yuanzhe didn't quite understand what I meant. Optimistic by nature, he scratched his head and said, "No big deal. We've got other things to play anyway. When I have money, I'll buy two-one to look at and one to play."

I laughed. "We could afford them, but there wouldn't be much point. You eventually finish every game. When we have money, let's make our own games."

"Make our own games..."

At last, Zhang Xiaotong understood what I meant. She looked at me, then at the adorably chubby Yang Yuanzhe, before turning her thoughtful gaze into the distance.