On a certain afternoon in late July 2002, Lin Zeqiu grabbed a basketball with one hand and called out to his parents: “I’ve washed the dishes in the kitchen and mopped the living room floor. Lin Zhixia is taking her afternoon nap. I’m going out to play basketball with my classmates.”
His mother was flipping through an account book while she reminded him: “Go ahead, but come back early.”
Lin Zeqiu rushed out the door without looking back.
He was going to play basketball for four hours!
During these brief four hours, he could completely escape from Lin Zhixia!
There was a basketball court near Ancheng Residential Complex. Lin Zeqiu and his classmates often played there. Lin Zeqiu was ten minutes late, and his classmates had already adjusted the height of the basketball hoop.
The sunshine was brilliant, the sky clear. Boys wearing tank tops and shorts played in the spacious court. They swung their arms, strode with their legs, their black hair soaked with sweat, the hot summer breeze making their clothes flutter—among this group of boys, Lin Zeqiu stood out the most. He ran fast, jumped high, had quick reflexes, and made precise dunks. His classmates cheered for him one after another.
Lin Zeqiu was thoroughly enjoying himself.
The temperature reached thirty-four degrees Celsius that day. Before long, all the boys, including Lin Zeqiu, were drenched in sweat. Lin Zeqiu was thirsty and was just thinking of going home for a drink of water when one of his classmates said: “Hey! It’s too hot. I forgot to bring water. Let’s go buy some iced cola and ice cream, bros!”
Another classmate suddenly blurted out: “Autumn-bro’s family runs a small store.” He wrapped his sweaty arm around Lin Zeqiu’s shoulders: “Autumn-bro, your treat this time, I’ll pay next time!”
Lin Zeqiu shook off his arm: “Stop sponging off me. I don’t have any money.”
He picked up the basketball from the ground and tucked it under his arm: “I have cold drinks at home. Whoever wants to buy, follow me.”
With that, he set off on the path home. Many classmates followed behind him, forming a mighty procession. Their destination was the Lin family’s small supermarket—at the entrance of the supermarket was a freezer cabinet filled with cold drinks, popsicles, and ice cream.
His classmates stopped one after another, taking out money to buy things from the freezer cabinet. Only Lin Zeqiu stood outside the supermarket, not moving an inch.
His silhouette fell on the stone steps.
The scorching sun blazed, the summer heat thickened, and light and shadow intertwined in the summer breeze.
His father reached out and patted Lin Zeqiu’s shoulder: “Son, want some water?”
Lin Zeqiu took his father’s water bottle and tilted his head back to drink a big gulp of cool boiled water.
His father spoke again: “Qiuqiu, go pick an ice cream.”
But Lin Zeqiu said, “I don’t like that stuff.”
He was wearing a sports tank top, and the fabric on both his chest and back was soaked through.
His father rubbed his head: “Qiu, Dad’s treating you. It’s okay.”
After hesitating for a long time, Lin Zeqiu only took a milk-flavored ice cream that cost 50 cents. He quickly tore open the packaging, held the ice cream in his mouth, carried the basketball, and followed behind his classmates. Other classmates were all holding ice cream cones worth more than 2 yuan.
Even so, Lin Zeqiu felt satisfied.
The cold milk ice cream melted in his mouth, quenching both his thirst and helping him beat the heat. He walked while bouncing the ball, his steps becoming increasingly light.
As they approached the basketball court, Lin Zeqiu’s classmates suddenly changed their expressions.
Lin Zeqiu followed their gaze forward and saw a group of fashionably dressed young men occupying the entire basketball court—those men were robust, had beards, showed tattoos, and some were even smoking. Cigarette butts with sparks fell at the entrance of the basketball court, and the air was filled with lingering smoke.
Lin Zeqiu’s classmates were stunned: “Damn, Autumn-bro, what should we do?”
“I’ll ask them when they’ll finish,” Lin Zeqiu sat in the substitute area. “If they’re leaving soon, we can continue playing.”
Lin Zeqiu had just sat down when a girl about seventeen or eighteen years old nearby struck up a conversation with him: “Little brother, how old are you?”
This girl was with the young men playing basketball. Her casual question to Lin Zeqiu triggered laughter from the young men—Lin Zeqiu understood the implication behind that laughter. He responded fiercely: “What’s it to you? Do I know you?”
The girl was embarrassed and angry. She pushed him, causing his ice cream to fall on the ground, covered in dust.
The summer sunlight filtered through tree leaves, turning into dappled circles of light that fell on the white ice cream, melting it into liquid that looked like tears flowing from the tree shade.
Lin Zeqiu muttered: “Such a damn nuisance.”
The sound of basketball stopped.
Those young men gradually gathered around: “Whose court is this?”
One of Lin Zeqiu’s classmates was so nervous he started hiccupping, stammering: “The ba-basketball court is Ancheng Residential Complex’s public sports fa-facility. We applied to the neighborhood committee in advance for usage rights from 1 to 5 PM today. This court is ours right now…”
But the leader of those young men said, “What grade are you in, elementary school kids? Your pubes haven’t even grown, and you’re fighting with your grandpa over this shit?”
This person had dyed yellow hair, his left ear was full of earrings, he had triangular eyes, thin lips, and looked very fierce and trouble-making.
Lin Zeqiu was only ten years old. He sat on a stone chair, looked up at the yellow-haired guy, and asked with contempt: “Whose grandpa? Your grandpa only fights over courts with elementary school kids?”
The yellow-haired guy grabbed Lin Zeqiu’s collar. Lin Zeqiu countered with an elbow strike. The yellow-haired guy raised his leg to kick Lin Zeqiu’s knee, and the two began fighting in full view of everyone.
“You’re asking for death!” the yellow-haired guy cursed. “Little bastard!”
Lin Zeqiu punched him in the face: “I’m your grandpa!”
Their shoe soles scraped harshly against the cement ground, producing a series of loud “kala kala” sounds.
Lin Zeqiu’s classmates hurriedly tried to break up the fight, and someone took out a “Xiao Lingtong” mobile phone, preparing to call the police. The yellow-haired guy’s group also didn’t want to make a big scene, especially since that girl kept pulling at the yellow-haired guy. After people finally separated Lin Zeqiu and the yellow-haired guy, the yellow-haired guy grabbed a handful of sand from the ground and threw it at Lin Zeqiu. Lin Zeqiu shouted: “Run! Everyone, go home! Run!”
His classmates scattered like birds and beasts.
Lin Zeqiu hugged the basketball and ran with swift steps.
His knees, hip bones, abdomen, and elbows were all aching.
He also tasted a salty, bloody flavor.
He wiped his mouth, and his fingers were covered with blood—it turned out his nose was bleeding.
*
Lin Zeqiu didn’t dare go straight home.
He had watched many Hong Kong police and gangster movies and was well-versed in the art of “tracking and counter-tracking.” He firmly believed that the yellow-haired guy was a social hooligan, perhaps even having intricate connections with the mafia—he was shocked by his imagination, and his mood grew heavier.
Lin Zeqiu ran into another residential complex and wandered around. Only when the sun had set and evening approached did he take a shortcut back to Ancheng Residential Complex, observing his surroundings every three steps, more cautious and suspicious than a professional mercenary.
Finally, around six o’clock in the evening, Lin Zeqiu returned home.
Lin Zhixia was the first to discover him.
He and his sister stared at each other.
For the first time in his life, Lin Zeqiu hoped his sister could be telepathic with him. As they say, “Sibling love is thicker than blood,” and Lin Zhixia was also exceptionally gifted, a born genius. She would be able to read Lin Zeqiu’s facial expression.
Lin Zeqiu even raised his index finger, placing it against his lips, making a soft “shh” sound, gesturing for Lin Zhixia to keep quiet and cover for him.
However, in the next second, Lin Zhixia shouted: “Mom, Mom, my brother’s face is covered in blood!”
His mother rushed out from the kitchen. Lin Zeqiu strode toward his bedroom: “I’m perfectly fine!”
“Lin Zeqiu, stop right there! Where’s that blood from?!” his mother demanded.
Lin Zhixia repeated like a loudspeaker: “Where is brother’s blood from?”
Lin Zeqiu told an enormous lie: “I was picking my nose and broke it!”
At that moment, there was complete silence.
Lin Zeqiu slammed his door shut with a “bang.”
He first pulled the curtains tightly, then changed into a fresh set of clothes, and put on a pair of long pants to cover the purple bruises on his legs. He found painkillers and Yunnan Baiyao from the medicine box, took them according to the instructions, calmed down for a moment, then went to the bathroom for a hot shower.
He didn’t eat dinner, but he wasn’t hungry at all.
After coming out of the bathroom, he lay on the bed, physically and mentally exhausted.
Darkness surrounded him, and pain surrounded him, too.
Lin Zeqiu wasn’t afraid of pain. What he feared most was being beaten to disability by the yellow-haired guy and having to trouble his parents to take him to the hospital for treatment. When he was born, he unfortunately had congenital heart disease. To cure him, his parents had sold everything they had and borrowed money—reportedly borrowing from the entire village back home, and his father had even kowtowed to the village head.
He was born with heart disease, while Lin Zhixia, who shared the same parents, was born with extraordinary intelligence.
He began to fantasize that he also possessed some kind of superpower, like the mutants in “X-Men,” not yet awakened. Today’s fight with the yellow-haired guy represented a trigger that could unlock the seal on him… Thinking this way, the pain in his limbs was a badge of honor, and the bloody battle pointed toward a bright future.
Lin Zeqiu took a deep breath, and suddenly the bedroom door was opened a small crack. Lin Zhixia softly called out: “Brother.”
He didn’t respond.
Lin Zhixia called again: “Brother, brother?”
He remained silent.
Lin Zhixia was startled. She ran to his bedside and stretched out her hand to check his breathing. He grabbed her finger: “What are you doing, Lin Zhixia?”
Lin Zhixia’s intelligence far exceeded his imagination: “This afternoon, did you get into a fight with someone?”
Lin Zeqiu wrapped himself tightly in the blanket and turned to face the other side: “So what if I did?”
Lin Zhixia pulled at the corner of his blanket: “I’m going to tell Mom and Dad to take you to the hospital!”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Lin Zeqiu fiercely stopped her.
Lin Zhixia’s determination was not weakened at all: “Lin Zeqiu, don’t threaten me. I hate being threatened.”
Lin Zeqiu promptly adjusted his strategy. He used a gentle voice to say: “Let me lie down for a while, it’s nothing serious.”
Lin Zhixia was half-convinced: “Really?”
A moment later, she added: “Dinner is almost ready. Mom’s calling you to eat.”
Lin Zeqiu immediately got out of bed.
Lin Zhixia smelled the scent of Yunnan Baiyao spray. She reached her hand into his bed and felt a patch of damp sweat. She sensed something was wrong and ran straight to her parents: “Dad, Mom, this afternoon, brother got into a fight, his nose bled, he’s been lying in bed for an hour, please take him to the hospital.”
Before Lin Zeqiu could speak, his father had already lifted his pant leg and examined his knee. He hurriedly said, “It doesn’t hurt at all. What boy doesn’t get into fights?”
“Does your body feel uncomfortable anywhere?” his father asked.
“I’m perfectly fine,” Lin Zeqiu emphasized repeatedly. “No need to go to the hospital.”
His mother’s tone grew urgent: “Who did you fight with? Mom has told you so many times to control your temper, but you just won’t listen!”
Lin Zeqiu vaguely apologized: “I disagreed with someone while playing basketball. It won’t happen again.”
His parents both assumed Lin Zeqiu had gotten into an argument with his classmates at the basketball court—he had just finished fourth grade and would be entering fifth grade when school started. His classmates were just a group of elementary school students, and it was common for boys to roughhouse.
Additionally, Lin Zeqiu appeared to be fine and even ate two bowls at dinner. His parents relaxed a bit but reminded him that if there were any problems, they would take him to the hospital immediately, even in the middle of the night.
*
That night before bed, Lin Zeqiu drank a glass of milk to help him sleep.
He lay in his small bed, quietly cultivating sleepiness, when his knee suddenly erupted in excruciating pain that made his whole body tremble. He gritted his teeth, his forehead sweating, nearly fainting.
He suspected either that he had developed aftereffects from the yellow-haired guy’s beating or that he had suddenly developed some serious terminal illness. It took him less than ten minutes to go from shock and anxiety to accepting reality.
After the pain subsided, Lin Zeqiu turned on his bedside lamp and wrote a will under the light.
He solemnly wrote: “Dad, Mom, Lin Zhixia.”
He suddenly remembered that Lin Zhixia hated it when he called her by her full name.
Since he was about to die anyway, there was no need to consider future life—Lin Zeqiu thought this way, and wrote on another piece of paper: “Dear Dad, Mom, and Xiaxia, I must tell you that ten years ago, I had congenital heart disease, and ten years later, my knee…”
For a moment, he couldn’t remember how to write the character for “cancer,” so he used pinyin instead: “My knee has ai [cancer].”
He borrowed a sentence he had learned from a TV drama yesterday: “This is my fate. I don’t blame heaven or earth, and you shouldn’t blame yourselves either.”
Then he concluded: “I leave my piggy bank and car models to Lin Zhixia, you can divide the rest among yourselves (don’t give anything to Ke Zhuangzhi). I’ve never seen the ocean and would like to see the sea. Play a song about the seaside at my funeral. Lin Zhixia is a crybaby. Mom and Dad, please comfort her more.”
Writing the last line, Lin Zeqiu’s pen tip trembled: “Lin Zeqiu, final words.”
He found red ink and pressed a red fingerprint on the paper.
After doing all this, Lin Zeqiu stuck the will to his headboard. He lay flat on the bed, his hands crossed over his chest, just like an Egyptian pharaoh—dignified, mysterious, and brave in the face of death.
Soon, he lost consciousness.
It turns out that survival hinges on a single thought, and death occurs in just an instant.
*
The next morning, Lin Zeqiu was awakened by his mother’s pat.
Lin Zeqiu half sat up, and his mother, holding that will, asked him: “Did you write this?”
He hadn’t yet distinguished reality from dreams, his thoughts still muddled. His mother grabbed his left hand, staring at the red ink mark on his thumb, and insisted on taking him to the hospital. Lin Zeqiu’s father was also very supportive.
His father whispered, “Check his brain.”
His mother’s arrangements were more detailed: “We need to check his brain and his knee too. Take out our savings book. You go to the bank first, I’ll make breakfast for Xiaxia, and then we’ll take Qiuqiu out.”
“Alright,” his father paced in the bedroom. “Don’t panic, we got through it back then.”
When Lin Zeqiu was young, he had his fortune told in the village. The old man at the east end of the village said he could “turn misfortune into good fortune.” He thought it was just a lucky saying, but his parents mentioned it again, as if seeking some kind of belief. The family’s supermarket temporarily closed, and his parents took Lin Zeqiu to the hospital. Following the doctor’s guidance, they spent over a thousand yuan to give Lin Zeqiu a comprehensive examination.
It was a very long process.
Close to noon, his mother took a bus back home to make lunch for Lin Zhixia.
Lin Zeqiu and his father remained at the hospital, eating boxed meals provided by the hospital. His father picked out the meat from his green pepper and pork stir-fry and placed it on Lin Zeqiu’s plate, saying, “Qiuqiu is growing; he needs to eat more meat.”
Lin Zeqiu put down his chopsticks.
His father continued: “The food at this hospital is not bad, with both meat and vegetables…”
His father’s bowl only had vegetables, and all the meat was on Lin Zeqiu’s side.
People came and went in the hospital corridor, gradually moving away. The fragrant meat strips lay on the white rice, and the rising steam entered Lin Zeqiu’s eyes. He rubbed his eyes and responded: “I won’t get into fights anymore.”
His father spoke as if to himself: “Your sister and your mother are both worried about you. Just now your mom called me. Xiaxia barely ate her lunch and didn’t take her afternoon nap, she’s just waiting for your test results from the hospital.”
Lin Zeqiu remained silent.
His knee began to hurt again.
Fortunately, according to the examination results, Lin Zeqiu was not seriously injured, just suffering from minor soft tissue contusions. The doctor believed that Lin Zeqiu’s leg symptoms were due to growing pains—no redness, swelling, or heat, and they mostly occurred at night. The doctor prescribed some medication and sent him home for self-observation.
*
From age ten to eleven, the yellow-haired guys from the basketball court disappeared without a trace, but the three words “growing pains” remained an inescapable shadow for Lin Zeqiu.
Lin Zeqiu grew very tall very quickly. He became the tallest boy in his class. Sixth-grade seniors often had to look up to him. He was even selected by the school leadership to be the captain of the “Experimental Elementary School Boys’ Etiquette Team,” responsible for escorting the drummers into the field during the flag-raising ceremony every Monday.
Lin Zeqiu could have this honor entirely thanks to his height, physique, and appearance. However, on one or two days each week, he would wake up in the middle of the night with severe muscle pain in his legs. Sometimes he would think that he hoped Lin Zhixia wouldn’t experience the same ordeal in the future, after all, she couldn’t forget pain like he could—this was the only place where he felt he could outperform her mentally; his nerves could tolerate pain much better than hers.
Hearing her talk about biological nerves every day, Lin Zeqiu had also barely grasped a bit of knowledge.
Lin Zeqiu dozed fitfully until five in the morning, when he heard hurried footsteps outside his door. His father pushed open his bedroom door, panting heavily: “Your mother went out at four in the morning to restock, riding a tricycle. She was run over on the road and her leg was crushed. Dad has to go to the hospital to take care of Mom. Dad will leave the phone with you. Qiuqiu, stay home and take care of Xiaxia. Eat frozen tangyuan for breakfast and frozen dumplings for lunch. You’re 1.7 meters tall, you can reach the stove. Dad has taught you how to make fried rice a few times…”
Lin Zeqiu sat up sharply in bed.
His father left him the phone, keys, and cash, then hurriedly went out.
Lin Zeqiu washed his face with cold water.
It was the winter break of 2003. Lin Zeqiu was eleven, and Lin Zhixia was eight.
The sky was not yet bright, and the howling north wind made the windows creak. Lin Zhixia’s room remained warm. She was covered with a strawberry-patterned blanket, sleeping soundly, her snow-white cheeks slightly flushed, seemingly having a sweet dream.
Lin Zeqiu stood by her bed for a few minutes, then turned to the kitchen and cooked a bowl of red bean tangyuan. While worrying about his mother’s injuries, he also felt thankful that he had grown tall enough to work around the stove. When he went out to buy groceries, he just needed to slightly cover his face with a scarf to avoid being treated as an elementary school student, saving him a lot of trouble.
The so-called “growing pains” were worth it, no matter how painful.
Lin Zeqiu took the money his father had given him, braved the cold wind to go out, and bought meat buns, vegetable buns, and tofu pudding. He brought these breakfast items back home, and Lin Zhixia was already awake—she was standing barefoot in the living room, asking him: “Where are Dad and Mom?”
Lin Zeqiu told her the truth: “Mom’s in the hospital, Dad’s taking care of her.”
Lin Zhixia’s eyes turned red like a little rabbit’s: “Brother, I want to go to the hospital to see Mom.”
“What can you do if you go?” Lin Zeqiu questioned her. “You’re so short and delicate, can’t do any work, you’ll just cling to Mom. Going to the hospital would just be a nuisance.”
Lin Zhixia exploded instantly: “You’re the nuisance!”
Lin Zeqiu couldn’t be bothered to argue with her and just called out: “Come eat breakfast, put your slippers on.”
Lin Zhixia stood without moving.
Lin Zeqiu slapped the table with his palm: “Lin Zhixia, I got up at six o’clock and have been busy preparing your breakfast until seven. If you don’t come over to eat, I’ll take all the breakfast to the neighbors, and you can just go hungry.”
Lin Zhixia ran back to her bedroom and put on a pair of pink fluffy slippers. She ran like a whirlwind to the dining table. Her brother brought her a small dish of vinegar. She dipped her bun in the vinegar, lowered her head to eat, and her brother reached out to pat her head.
She didn’t speak, and her brother patted her again: “I’m at home…”
His voice was also soft: “Don’t be afraid.”
Lin Zhixia was startled by what she heard.
Lin Zeqiu returned to his usual state: “Alright, after you finish eating, don’t forget to call Mom and Dad, Mom-clinger.”
He placed his father’s phone on the table.
Lin Zhixia put down her bowl and immediately called her mother. She waited for a few seconds, the call connected, and she said in a rush: “Mom, Mom, Mom, how are you?”
Her mother answered: “It’s nothing, just a small injury, needs to rest in the hospital for a few days. Your dad will be tired these days, having to go back and forth. Xiaxia, you and Qiuqiu, be good at home, listen to your dad, understand?”
“I understand,” Lin Zhixia promised. “Mom, get well soon.”
Her mother instructed them further: “You and Qiuqiu shouldn’t come to the hospital to see me. In a week, Mom will come home. If you and Qiuqiu are good at home, Mom can rest easy in the hospital.”
The Lin family’s supermarket was in a semi-closed state. Their father shuttled between the hospital and home for several consecutive days. One night he even stayed overnight at the hospital—because their mother had to undergo an examination early the next morning, and their father was afraid she couldn’t manage alone.
That night, there were no adults in Lin Zhixia’s home.
The provincial meteorological bureau issued a blizzard warning.
Around eight o’clock at night, snow filled the city, cold winds howled, and shadowy figures vaguely passed by outside the curtains. Lin Zhixia tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. She told Lin Zeqiu honestly, “I miss Dad and Mom.”
Lin Zeqiu asked her: “Are you sleepy?”
Lin Zhixia shook her head.
Lin Zeqiu walked to the living room. He turned on the TV and switched to CCTV6 Movie Channel—something that would never happen under normal circumstances. Dad and Mom strictly prohibited the children from watching TV after eight o’clock at night.
The background sound effects of the movie attracted Lin Zhixia. She hugged her pillow, sat on the sofa, and snuggled close to Lin Zeqiu.
This was the first time the siblings had watched a movie together with perfect understanding.
CCTV6 was broadcasting the American classic action film “Léon: The Professional,” with plot twists that captivated the audience. Whenever there was gunfire, Lin Zhixia would tightly hug her pillow, and Lin Zeqiu would pat her head. For a moment, the living room was filled with sibling warmth.
The blizzard outside had not stopped. The falling snow pattered against the window, the bitter cold of winter permeated the entire city, and the female protagonist in the movie asked again: “Is life always this hard, or is it just when you’re a kid?”
The male protagonist replied: “Always like that.”
Always like that, thought Lin Zeqiu.
But Lin Zhixia said, “Compared to the movie plot, we’re already living quite well.”
She looked up at him: “Mom will recover, and our lives will gradually get better.”
Lin Zeqiu nodded as if guided by some unseen force.
Lin Zhixia raised her right hand and, imitating his usual gesture, also patted his head. So that snowy winter night wasn’t as cold as they had imagined. When the movie ended, they returned to their small beds, falling asleep with anticipation for tomorrow in their hearts.