When Nie Tianqing was thirteen, the bank suddenly recalled its loan. The family’s small factory faced bankruptcy. Creditors, afraid they wouldn’t get their money back, gathered around the factory, causing disturbances. The factory was in chaos, workers stopped working, and Nie Tianqing’s father’s hair turned white overnight.
With production lines halted, the factory couldn’t deliver goods. Customers bombarded the family’s phone, while his parents apologized and paid compensation. When the family had nowhere to turn, a project manager from “Damei Construction Company” visited them, presenting an “Asset Acquisition Contract.”
The project manager arrived at the perfect time.
They smoothly purchased Nie Tianqing’s family factory—all equipment, patents, and land ownership were transferred to “Damei Construction Company.”
Nie Tianqing’s parents paid off their debts and sold their last remaining house. They moved to “Ancheng Complex” in the provincial capital, and their quality of life plummeted.
“Ancheng Complex” was a slum in the city center.
Nie Tianqing’s family belonged to the poorest of the poor.
They had few valuable appliances in their home—an empty two-bedroom apartment filled with gloom that sunshine couldn’t brighten.
Father said, “Sudden wealth or poverty best tests a person’s character. As long as the green mountains remain, there’s no fear of having no firewood to burn.”
Mother said, “There are several students from Ancheng Complex who attend Provincial No. 1 High School. Why don’t you make friends with them, son?”
Nie Tianqing flatly refused.
Every morning, Nie Tianqing left home at five-thirty. He rode his bicycle from “Ancheng Complex” straight to “Taoyuan Riverside.”
Taoyuan Riverside was a wealthy residential area where Nie Tianqing had grown up. He pretended he hadn’t moved away from Taoyuan Riverside, carefully crafting his lies each day.
He would push his bicycle, standing in the cold winter wind, waiting painfully for a dozen minutes until a group of middle school students appeared together—these were all legitimate residents of Taoyuan Riverside.
Nie Tianqing would follow behind them.
When others asked where he lived, he insisted: “Taoyuan Riverside.”
Nie Tianqing was in his second year at Provincial No. 1 Middle School. He had outstanding looks, good relationships, and even better grades. His family’s downfall couldn’t become his blemish.
One evening, as Nie Tianqing was cycling home, he happened to see his father’s electric bicycle outside a familiar shop. The electric bicycle had a safety knot woven by his mother hanging on it, so he recognized it immediately.
He thought his father was buying something in the shop.
He held his bicycle’s hand brake and glanced toward the interior of the shop—he saw a stylishly dressed woman putting a scarf around his father’s neck. The woman and his father didn’t make any inappropriate moves, but he knew that his family was about to change again.
Sure enough, during that year’s Spring Festival, his father didn’t come home.
To be precise, his father never came back.
In that old apartment in Ancheng Complex, only Nie Tianqing and his mother remained.
Mother told Nie Tianqing: “Mom has grown old, Mom is useless, can’t earn big money. We, mother and son, need to spend sparingly. You study at Provincial No. 1 High School, don’t compare yourself with others, and don’t learn to be vain. You must make something of yourself, make your father regret to death.”
While speaking, the mother was sewing insoles. Whenever she had time, she would set up a stall on the street, selling clothes, insoles, and hair ties. In winter, her ears developed sores from the cold; in summer, her clothes were soaked with sweat. She would argue with people on the street over fifty cents, hands on her hips, cursing loudly, spittle flying, her mouth full of profanity.
But she hadn’t always been like this.
*
Nie Tianqing didn’t hate his father.
Because his father would send living expenses every month, two thousand per month, enough for Nie Tianqing and his mother to maintain daily expenses.
Nie Tianqing began to ponder: between “integrity in poverty” and “dishonor in wealth,” which was lighter and which was heavier?
After years of diligent study, Nie Tianqing passed the college entrance examination with few surprises and was admitted to a nationally renowned first-class university. During his time there, he frantically expanded his connections, shamelessly mingling in various groups, and it was during this time that he met his first girlfriend.
The process of falling in love had both sourness and sweetness.
The biggest conflict between this young couple erupted during the month before graduating in their senior year—his first girlfriend wanted to stay and develop in Beijing, while Nie Tianqing insisted on returning to the provincial capital. Neither would give in to the other, and they could only end with a breakup.
After breaking up with his first girlfriend, Nie Tianqing didn’t delete her WeChat. He kept her in his Moments circle, continuing to follow her updates. He witnessed her meeting and falling in love with Chai Yang, and their subsequent prosperity—everyone’s life was getting better.
Ever since his first girlfriend posted photos of Chai Yang, Nie Tianqing had found ways to connect with Chai Yang.
Initially, Nie Tianqing just wanted to understand why his ex-girlfriend had given up on him and chosen a chubby, squat fellow.
Later, he discovered that Chai Yang indeed had some talent, able to make great strides and ambitious plans in the computer industry.
The “Jiangke Software Company,” managed by Chai Yang, was thriving. According to Chai Yang’s description, the actual controlling shareholder of “Jiangke Software Company” was Jiang Yubai, and Jiang Yubai’s mother was named Guan Xunmei, the behind-the-scenes boss of “Damei Construction Company.”
After many twists and turns, the two companies that Nie Tianqing was most concerned about both had intricate connections with Jiang Yubai.
During that period, Nie Tianqing’s mindset was very unbalanced. At an important drinking occasion, he got completely drunk, and afterward, he spoke ill of “Jiangke Software”—indiscreet talk was a major taboo in Nie Tianqing’s financial industry.
Nie Tianqing originally thought his career was finished.
Unexpectedly, industry insiders sought out Nie Tianqing, entrusting him to help “Jiangke Software” separate from its parent company and go public independently. The enormous profits behind this were quite considerable. As Chai Yang’s good friend, Nie Tianqing should shoulder the corresponding responsibility.
Nie Tianqing agreed.
His relationship with Chai Yang grew better and better.
But he also increasingly despised Chai Yang.
That day at noon, Chai Yang straddled the window railing on the top floor of the building. Before Nie Tianqing’s brain could react, his hands pushed Chai Yang down. He foresaw a bloody, gruesome scene, but hadn’t expected Jiang Yubai to rush over immediately to save the person.
By twist of fate, Jiang Yubai became Chai Yang’s lifesaver.
After a period of recovery, Chai Yang continued to operate the “Yangyang Live Broadcasting” company. He no longer posted hot commentaries or tracked internet current events. As if retiring behind the scenes, he devoted himself to planning the development path of “Yangyang Live Broadcasting,” somehow carving out a small piece of the market cake. He couldn’t earn big money, but could sustain the team. The entire company barely maintained operations.
In comparison, Nie Tianqing’s situation was more difficult—he actively applied for a foreign assignment and was sent by the company to Pakistan, unable to return to the country for seven years.
Nie Tianqing lived with several colleagues in a southern city in Pakistan. He adapted to local customs, wearing local robes, and posted a status on WeChat Moments: “My first month in Pakistan, didn’t bring enough clothes, can only wear local robes.”
The next afternoon, his mother told him via WeChat: “Son, yesterday morning, mom found all your clothes, washed them once, dried them, packed them well in vacuum bags, took them to the post office, filled in your address, and sent them to you. The postal service can deliver the package to your doorstep. If you need anything else, just tell Mom, and Mom will send it to you.”
Nie Tianqing replied immediately: “How big is the postal package? Mom, you don’t need to go to the trouble, I have enough to wear.”
Putting down his phone, he experienced a moment of daze.
*
Half a month later, Nie Tianqing received two packages—one from Beijing and the other from the provincial capital.
The package from the provincial capital was large, with crooked handwriting from his mother.
The package from Beijing was smaller, with flowing handwriting belonging to Chai Yang.
Nie Tianqing called a colleague to help him open the packages, claiming he didn’t have a paper cutter at hand.
The kind-hearted young colleague didn’t hesitate and tore off the outer covering of the Beijing package. Two brand-new Buddhist sutras fell out of the plastic bag. Those sutras rolled right to Nie Tianqing’s feet, and he suddenly laughed, his smile stiff.
Nie Tianqing’s colleague enjoyed reading. They had no television, and the internet was poor. Besides reading, there was no better way to pass the time.
The colleague happily asked: “Brother Nie, the Buddhist sutras are new, are you going to read them? If not, can I take them?”
“Take them,” Nie Tianqing agreed.
The colleague quickly thanked him: “Thanks, I also have a good book here, just finished reading it. Let me trade with you.”
Before finishing his words, the colleague pulled out a French novel titled “In Search of Lost Time” from the bookshelf and placed it on Nie Tianqing’s desk.
Nie Tianqing glanced at the cover. He only saw the title “In Search of Lost Time.”
The climate in Pakistan was scorching in June, with outdoor temperatures exceeding forty degrees. The sunlight blazed like a burning fireball, and Nie Tianqing felt drowsy.
He lay down on a bamboo chair in the office, took a nap, and time seemed to flow backward in his mind.
He missed a bubble ball war he had played at Jiang Yubai’s house when he was thirteen, and even more missed the summer vacation when he was twelve—the rain of that summer vacation washed away the heat. His mother was making spareribs and lotus root soup in the kitchen, his father was watching a football match in the living room, and Nie Tianqing was lying on his small bed in the bedroom, playing with an unfinished puzzle.
The rain beat against the windowpanes, and his mother called loudly: “Dinner’s ready, Old Nie, Little Nie, come eat!”
Nie Tianqing quickly put on his slippers and ran vigorously toward the kitchen.
At that time, he didn’t know that this moment before his eyes would be the happiest time in his next thirty years of life.