“What? You want to apply to a university out of town? Since when did you have this idea! I won’t allow it!”
The furious roar pierced through the ceiling, startling the father and son and uncle and nephew, who were having lunch in the Ning family living room. Zhao Jingwen nearly dropped the spoon he was using to serve rice.
“What’s going on?”
Zhao Jingwen craned his neck out, eager to look upstairs. The voice was coming from the Zhao family on the fourth floor; it must be Wang Yihong losing her temper.
“Hey, she’s crying, did you hear that?”
Zhao Jingwen pointed upstairs, only to be forcibly pressed back down at the table by Ning Jianguo.
“Why are you so excited?”
“What? Lele wants to go to a university out of town? Come on, tell your uncle what’s going on?”
Zhao Jingwen looked at Ning Xiaobei and Fan Xia with great interest, hoping to get some inside scoop from them.
Ning Xiaobei and Fan Xia exchanged a glance and both shook their heads at their uncle in unison.
Sorry, we don’t know anything.
“Tsk, you two don’t care about your classmate at all.”
Zhao Jingwen shook his head and picked up his bowl.
“I always thought Lele would go to the Shanghai Conservatory of Music. She’s been practicing since she was little, and she’s already passed Level 10, right? Wouldn’t it be a waste not to take the arts entrance exam?”
Ning Jianguo also found it hard to believe.
Wang Yihong must have thought the same. She had raised Chang Leyun with great care since childhood. Even during her hardest times, when she was threatened and harassed by her ex-husband, she still insisted on giving her the best education.
Private violin lessons were extremely expensive. When Chang Leyun was in elementary school, one lesson already cost 500 yuan, roughly equal to a month’s salary for an ordinary Shanghai factory worker at the time. Besides violin, she also attended dance classes. The combined cost of both was a heavy financial burden. It was only after entering high school, when her energy became limited, that she stopped dance classes, and Wang Yihong had felt deeply regretful about it for quite a while.
This year, she finally passed the Level 10 violin exam. As soon as the certificate was issued, it was framed in gold and hung on the wall of the Zhao family’s living room, where guests would see it the moment they walked in. Even Xiao Zhao, who worked at the Cultural Center, would proudly tell everyone that his daughter’s artistic achievements had surpassed his own, and that his legacy now had a successor.
For this daughter, Wang Yihong had given everything she had.
“Get out! If you have the guts to leave, then don’t come back! Your wings have hardened that you don’t want your mother anymore, you don’t want this family, then go! Go!”
Having lost her composure, Wang Yihong spoke without restraint.
Then came a loud clang, which sounded like a rice bowl smashing onto the floor.
Fan Xia shrank his neck, too frightened to say a word.
“Fine, I’ll go!”
Bang!
The door upstairs flew open, followed by hurried footsteps rushing down the stairs, filled with grievance and indignation.
“Xiaobei!”
Ning Jianguo shot Ning Xiaobei a look, and he quickly got up and went out the door.
“Where are you going?”
Ning Xiaobei chased after Chang Leyun all the way downstairs. The two of them finally stopped at the corner of the second floor.
Chang Leyun panted, her cheeks still plump from childhood, flushed red, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “Xiaobei, don’t bother with me.”
“Hey, I’m not bothering. Have you eaten yet? If not, come to my place.”
Ning Xiaobei said, reaching out to take her arm.
Chang Leyun stepped back cautiously, eyeing him warily. “Are you trying to talk to my mom for me? It won’t work.”
“What do you mean talk to your mom? She’s never asked me. I’m just asking if you want to eat. Come on… today we’ve got poached chicken and carp soup. Aren’t you going to your math tutoring on Sunday afternoon? Planning to study on an empty stomach?”
After a moment of hesitation, Chang Leyun let Ning Xiaobei lead her back to Room 316.
Zhao Jingwen, who had been overly curious a moment ago, suddenly became polite, offering her food constantly and playing the role of a steady, responsible elder.
After lunch, Ning Xiaobei went upstairs to grab the backpack she’d need for her afternoon study session. Wang Yihong, seeing him hold his hand, couldn’t stop praising him for being so considerate, lamenting how her own daughter had changed so suddenly. The little Lele who once leapt to protect her mother from her father’s anger had somehow grown so coldhearted.
Ning Xiaobei had no reply, so he went downstairs to let his dad and Uncle Zhao go upstairs and reason with her, while he and Fan Xia accompanied Chang Leyun to the station.
“I’m afraid she’s so used to being an only child that she won’t be able to accept a little brother. Even with my youngest at home, I can’t hug him too often. I’m afraid Leyun will get jealous.”
Wang Yihong sobbed through her tears.
Uncle Zhao from Nanhui, having no say in how Chang Leyun was educated, stood gloomily in the hallway.
They say being a stepmother is hard, but being a stepfather isn’t easy either.
“She comes home only once a week. Old Zhao and I worry the boy might disturb his sister’s rest, so we send him to my mom’s on Friday night and pick him up again Sunday night. I think I’m doing a good job as a mom, right?”
“Today at lunch I casually asked how her arts exam prep was going… and suddenly she flips out. She says she never liked the violin, won’t practice past Level 10, and that all those years of piano and dance were just for me. Now she wants to go to another city for university.”
Wang Yihong stomped her foot, and her freshly styled bangs drooped awkwardly.
“Go to another city? She’s dreaming! As long as I’m alive, there’s no way that’s happening!”
Ning Jianguo and Zhao Jingwen exchanged glances.
Every family has its own complicated struggles.
“Wow, boss, I didn’t expect the bravest kid in our building to be Chang Leyun! She actually wants to apply to a university outside Shanghai.”
At the bus stop earlier, Chang Leyun had made it clear: she planned to apply to universities in another city with Ding Zheyang and even wanted to study together in Chengdu.
When asked why she wanted to go so far, her reason was oddly charming—“My mom loves me too much, it’s suffocating. I need some fresh air.”
Fan Xia, having never experienced being loved to the point of suffocation, and couldn’t comprehend it. Ning Xiaobei understood, but he couldn’t agree.
Especially after losing his father once, he knew the weight of parental love and loss.
“Do you think Ding Zheyang’s parents will agree to him studying so far away? Wait… no, they probably don’t even want him studying in China anymore. This is bad, both sets of parents are definitely going to oppose it.”
For most Shanghai parents, their children’s school options are like their marriage prospects: unless you’re capable of getting into Tsinghua or Peking University, the scope is limited to the Jiangsu-Zhejiang-Shanghai (Yangtze River Delta) region, or at most, studying abroad.
Applying to universities outside Shanghai is, in their eyes, utterly insane and shocking. Everyone wants to stay in the comforts of their home; they were born here, why would they want to go anywhere else? For extreme parents with what Grandma Ning jokingly calls outer-ring allergy, even the newly built Songjiang University Town seems impossibly far, let alone Sichuan.
Ning Xiaobei worried too.
This development was unexpected, and he wasn’t sure whether it was good or bad.
Once back at the Ning home, Fan Xia flailed his arms and legs like a gorilla in West Suburban Park, rubbing his left side, then his right, scratching his back.
“Quick, I must have been bitten by a mosquito! It had to happen at the station. Quick, put some Liushen Floral Water on it!”
It was Sunday, and after dinner, they would prepare to return to school. Ning Xiaobei and Fan Xia had changed into their summer uniforms: white T-shirts with small collars embroidered with the school name, and matching track pants.
These uniforms had been ordered when they entered their first year of high school. To save money, the parents had ordered larger sizes, not knowing how tall the boys would grow, so everything was a little long and roomy.
Girls are easier; by high school, their height usually stabilizes. Boys, though… you never know. Before first year, their uniforms hang loose, like Wu Dalang1from Water Margin;famously short and weak carrying a rice sack. But by second and third year, they start to feel tight in all the right places.
At this stage, Fan Xia was, in Zhao Jingwen’s words, growing at an alarming rate. From Lunar New Year to June, in just a few months, he shot up nearly ten centimeters. Now he was close to 1.85 meters21.85 meters = 6’1 ft.
The uniform they ordered back in freshman year was basically a second skin on him now. The pants barely covered his ankles, showing half a palm’s worth of skin. He had just submitted a request for new uniforms a few days ago and would get them before the next semester started.
Ning Xiaobei was practically bleeding with envy.
His own pants still had an extra five-centimeter cuff rolled up. His last check-up showed he had barely brushed 1.75 meters31.75 meters = 5’9 ft. If it weren’t for the real world benchmark of 1.77 meters, Ning Xiaobei might have completely despaired.
Men, after all, all dream about breaking the 1.8-meter mark41.8 meters = 5’11 ft.
Ning Xiaobei wasn’t the type to stick 180 cm in parentheses after his WeChat name, but he still felt a little pang of longing.
He glared at Fan Xia’s long legs, snorted, and went to the bathroom for some herbal mosquito spray.
“Do it yourself!”
“Aw, I can’t see.”
Ning Xiaobei rolled his eyes, lifted Fan Xia’s shirt, and sure enough, there was a huge mosquito bite on his back. Splash, he poured it straight on.
“Ahh…”
Cold all the way to the bone.
Coming out of the bathroom, he saw Fan Xia pulling down the green blinds, one hand in his pocket, winking mischievously.
“Boss, wanna see something cool? Come here…”
Thinking he was serious, Ning Xiaobei leaned in. But in a flash, Fan Xia lifted his shirt and grabbed Ning Xiaobei’s right hand, pressing it against his stomach.
“What do you think? Can you feel it?”
Underneath the smooth skin was a thin but clearly defined layer of muscle, firm and hot. Ning Xiaobei jumped back in shock, but his hand was pinned to Fan Xia’s abs.
“Abs! Six-pack done. Just need two more to be perfect.”
Fan Xia boasted proudly.
Ning Xiaobei’s face turned bright red, like a cooked shrimp.
Luckily, the blinds were down, and with the lights off in the middle of the day, the sunlight streaming through the slats only cast patches of green, hiding the flush on his skin.
“Here too, feel it? The chest muscles,”
Fan Xia said, pulling Ning Xiaobei’s other hand over and pressing it against his tight chest through the shirt.
Ning Xiaobei felt like he was about to explode from embarrassment.
“I’m impressive, right? At Brother Kai’s place, the treadmill, the barbells, all of it’s basically mine now. I go over every day for at least an hour of strength training, building muscle.”
It was like Ning Xiaobei had one hand on a hot iron and the other in a steaming basket. It was pure torture.
He yanked his hand back and, half out of anger and half out of shame, stomped hard on Fan Xia’s foot.
“No wonder you disappear after meals and don’t show up until evening study. So you were hanging out at Teacher Gu’s place.”
“What do you mean hanging out? I’m training for college. The program I’m aiming for has physical tests. Boss, we should work out together from now on. Good body, better studying.”
“Get lost! I’m not becoming a cop, no physical test required.”
Ning Xiaobei yanked open the blinds, and sunlight poured in, sharp and commanding.
He turned and went to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a milk popsicle.
Tearing off the wrapper, he bit into it, the ice crunching between his teeth, cold sliding down his throat, finally suppressing that fiery impulse.
Sometimes a too-young body can put an old soul in awkward situations.
And some people, like a peacock reborn, scatter charm everywhere without even knowing it.
He ate too quickly, and the cold made his forehead ache, forcing him to pause.
Fan Xia followed him in, pulled open the bottom freezer, squatted, and fished around for a while. All that was left were chicken, duck, fish, and Ning Jianguo’s homemade meatballs. The popsicle Ning Xiaobei had been eating was the very last one.
“Boss, give me the rest, the bottom half,”
Fan Xia said, crouching at his feet, puppy eyes fixed on the half-eaten popsicle.
The kitchen had no fan, and summer’s warm breeze blew in through the window. The boy’s eyes glistened, sweat beaded on his nose, and his sun-kissed skin seemed to ooze honey, sticky and sweet.
Ning Xiaobei couldn’t help staring.
Without noticing, the popsicle started to melt, the sweet liquid running over the back of his hand, down his arm.
“Ah, too wasteful,”
Fan Xia exclaimed, standing up, grabbing Ning Xiaobei’s hand holding the popsicle with his own, and biting the remaining half with his mouth.
His tongue brushed Ning Xiaobei’s fingertip, and Ning Xiaobei jolted as if shocked by electricity. He loosened his grip, and the popsicle was completely taken by the boy.
Fan Xia held it like he was afraid it would be snatched back, stepping back a few paces into the living room and sitting on the windowsill on the other side.
The dark green wind fan on the table, with slightly yellowed blades, sent gusts of cool air, lifting the boy’s collar.
Eating ice, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
Feeling too hot or maybe annoyed at the tight, ill-fitting clothes, he pulled the hem of his shirt out of the blue school pants, creating a gap for the fan’s breeze to reach inside.
The thin layer of muscle and the long waistline between boyhood and youth, just glimpsed earlier, was now fully exposed, hitting Ning Xiaobei’s eyes like a punch.
He spun around as if fleeing, turned on the tap, letting the sticky white popsicle juice wash away under the running water, circling it down the drain.
Fan Xia propped himself on the windowsill with the popsicle in his mouth, hands braced behind him, squinting as he watched the half-visible figure in the kitchen.
Pomegranate flowers bloomed all over the neighborhood, blazing red, like fire consuming the summer whole.
………………
Although Fan Xia hadn’t lured Ning Xiaobei into muscle training, he successfully got Ding Zheyang hooked. Every day after class, he went with Fan Xia and two or three other boys to Kai’s gym to lift weights.
Working out the body was the best way to strengthen the mind.
Ding Zheyang was no longer the same boy as before. For the sake of a bright future with Chang Leyun, he resolved to resist his parents completely.
Lifting weights was only the first step. He also made an overseas call to Tokyo, making it clear he didn’t want to study in Japan and he wanted to stay in China.
His parents naturally tried every argument, promising all sorts of benefits, listing advantages, reminding him that a family should stay together, urging him to consider them, not to act childishly, and not to be stubborn.
Ding Zheyang, backed into a corner, shouted into the phone: “You abandoned me back in Shanghai, left me alone, made me live under other people’s roofs, forced me to endure their moods. Grandma didn’t care, my uncles didn’t love me, they all treated me like a burden, an eyesore—do you even realize that?
“Finally, I’m clawing my way out, and now you want to drag me to that damn Japanese village. You say it’s for my own good, but I don’t know a soul there, have no friends—why should I go?
“Ridiculous! Why would I make friends with Japanese people?
“Who’s really selfish? Who’s being stubborn? Either way, it’s your decision, and I’m just supposed to accept it?
“I’ll be eighteen next year. Once I’m in college, you don’t get to control me. You can be citizens of whatever country you like; I’ll go wherever I want. We’ll each live our own lives.”
Then, ignoring any response, he hung up. Ning Xiaobei and Fan Xia were left gaping.
It seemed the only ones worthy of being with Chang Leyun were people of true guts.
Although his reason for wanting to study elsewhere was the opposite of hers, in the end, the paths converged.
Fan Xia, enjoying the drama, clapped Ding Zheyang on the shoulder. “Man, I underestimated you before. Now I see, you’ve got the guts to fight your parents to the end. I support you. Keep it up!”
Ning Xiaobei, however, was full of worry. He had no idea what consequences such forceful, impulsive behavior would bring.
If things went wrong, what would happen to his dad in the end?
Seasons shifted, summer fading to winter, and without noticing, three months of senior year had quietly passed.
The battle between Chang Leyun, Ding Zheyang, and their parents raged on.
Meanwhile, another invisible war was creeping closer.
One weekend in mid-December, Ning Xiaobei took Fan Xia to Grandma Ning’s house in Pudong for a free meal.
Zhao Jingwen had been invited by a friend from Hong Kong to spend Christmas at Victoria Harbour and watch the fireworks, planning to return after New Year. He had originally wanted to visit his little sister, but she had already left a month earlier with her boyfriend to spend the Christmas holiday in France.
Zhao Jingwen considered taking Ning Jianguo along, but year-end was the busiest time for government offices, with all sorts of account settling and inventory checks. He simply couldn’t get away.
The moment they stepped in, two snow-white kittens leapt around Ning Xiaobei and Fan Xia’s feet. Fan Xia cheered, scooping one onto each shoulder to enjoy full royal treatment.
The kittens had been given by a nearby neighbor. They were Shandong lion cats, both with heterochromia, and Grandma Ning explained that when fully grown, their long fur would reach the floor. They looked imposing and were raised to guard the convenience store’s warehouse and catch mice.
The previous warehouse keeper, Azi, slept on top of the TV. Seeing Ning Xiaobei, she wag her tail to gave a small greeting. Azi had grown old and sluggish, like a retired elder. She no longer went out at night chasing boyfriends.
Ning Jianguo, as usual, was cooking in the kitchen, and Xiao Mei was attending to customers in the convenience store. Grandma Ning sat in the living room folding tin foil. Even though the Winter Solstice had passed, she was already preparing for the year-end rituals.
The convenience store had been doing well since opening a few months ago, mostly serving neighbors from nearby residential complexes. Grandma Ning had even moved the mahjong table outside under a big tree; on nice days, she’d play while keeping an eye on the store. When tired, she’d retreat to her room for a rest.
A bright red banner hung outside the shop, a gift from the local police station. A few days ago, a gang tried to break into the neighborhood. Grandma Ning noticed the strangers immediately and quietly called the police. The thieves were caught by officers waiting downstairs before they could escape. Far better than the neighborhood’s nominal security guards.
“Xiaobei, anything happening down south lately?”
“Down south? What could happen?” Ning Xiaobei asked as he helped fold foil.
Grandma Ning rubbed her eyes. “The last few days, our white vinegar and disinfectant have been selling like crazy. Someone even asked why I don’t stock Banlangen5Banlangen (板蓝根): A traditional Chinese herbal remedy, often used to prevent or treat colds and flu. Funny, this isn’t a pharmacy. Today, Grandma Zhu from Building 3 whispered that some strange disease is spreading down south, and I should stock up on white vinegar at home…”
“Grandma, don’t listen—”
Ning Xiaobei opened his mouth to warn her not to trust the neighbors’ rumors, but froze the next second.
He turned to the wall calendar hanging in the middle of the living room: December 22, 2002… the south…
Fear swept over him like a storm.
SARS6Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome had arrived!
And Uncle Zhao was still in Hong Kong!
………………
Author’s Note:
Don’t worry, it’s just a bit of angst for the story; it’ll be over soon and won’t hurt.
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