Everything in life becomes harder when compared to others. Those whispered words behind her back had once stung Chen Huan’er’s spine with pain, but when she suddenly realized her future was shrouded in mist and she had no concept of what she wanted to do, she had no energy left to spare for rumors. After all, the former was false, while the latter was very real.
Because she neither listened nor thought about it, she hadn’t noticed when people stopped talking about the incident. It was like a sudden gust of wind – coming fiercely as if it would split heaven and earth, but after it passed, it had only shaken loose some dust and a few fallen leaves.
Ah, youth – there were always new things happening in life.
The first piece of good news about the big exam came from Jing Qichi. He had successfully passed the soccer specialty exam, which meant he practically had one foot in Tian Zhong High School. You could say it was almost certain. True, he was last in his class, but that was last place in the advanced class that ranked ahead of the ten regular classes. Even if he scored several dozen points lower, he could still make it past the specialty student scoreline.
That day, the three mothers returned from picking wild vegetables in the suburbs and gathered at the Chen household to steam some meat and vegetable buns. Jing Qichi and Song Cong were still at the soccer field, while Huan’er was doing practice problems when her mother forced her out of her room, saying, “Sitting in one place all day, your bones will go soft. Get up and move around.”
She had no choice but to obey. All exam students were like young horses on a racetrack, except while other parents were urging their children forward with small whips, her situation was quite the opposite – with a rope around her neck, she’d be pulled back after just two steps forward, for fear that if the horse stumbled and fell, a dead horse could never be revived.
They had no professional spirit.
Huan’er greeted the two aunties, washed her hands, and stood idly at the dining table playing with flour.
Song’s mother asked, “Did the sports school call? Have you two talked to Qichi about it?”
“We did. We gave our opinion, but the decision was his to make,” Jing’s mother answered while preparing the filling. “He probably thought about it all night too. I saw his room light was still on past one in the morning.”
Jing Qichi had already decided to go to Tian Zhong, though these days he remained as casual as ever, showing no particular excitement. So that was why – for someone who wanted to become a professional athlete, Tian Zhong naturally wouldn’t be the first choice.
Huan’er hadn’t known the sports school had extended an olive branch, and was slightly surprised. From her perspective, he had always been the type whose stubbornness couldn’t be moved by eight oxen once he set his mind on something. She couldn’t remember how many times Jing Qichi had been scolded by the discipline director for missing self-study due to extra practice, but she had never seen him back down.
“That’s true,” Song’s mother nodded. “He missed the chance when the football school came recruiting last time, and now there’s another opportunity, the child must still be thinking about it.”
Chen’s mother didn’t know the background, “Why didn’t he go last time?”
“He was supposed to go,” Jing’s mother explained. “Qichi had been attending football training classes, and a few years ago when the football school came recruiting, they were interested in him. They were affiliated with a professional club, and his father even went with him to meet the coach and pass the test. But just a few days after returning, he injured his knee joint while playing with some kids. He already had various injuries, big and small – Old Song treated him and said he had to stop for a while or it would become a chronic problem. That injury was quite serious, and it took a long time to recover to his previous level. But firstly there was the injury, and secondly, they had plenty of other prospects and wouldn’t wait just for us, so it didn’t work out in the end. This was my fault. His father was quite invested, but I just thought sending him to practice when he was young was just to develop an interest – who knew the professional path would be so accessible? As you say, he was already good enough for a professional club. What parent wouldn’t keep a close eye and remind their child to be careful about everything? Ah, it was my fault.”
“It’s all in the past now,” Song’s mother consoled. “Tian Zhong isn’t necessarily worse. If he develops well as a specialty student after getting in, there’s still opportunity, and even if it doesn’t work out, at least there’s a backup plan.”
“Yes,” Chen’s mother added, “Qichi isn’t the type of child who doesn’t know what he’s doing. You have to trust him.”
The time that should have been spent memorizing books and doing practice problems was given without hesitation to the soccer field. Jing Qichi wasn’t being stubborn with the director – he was being stubborn with himself. Do your best within the limits of your physical condition, and if that best still doesn’t meet professional standards, then give up at that point.
This was a subjective question whose answer had yet to be revealed.
“Huan’er,” Jing’s mother called out, “you and Song Cong need to keep an eye on him for Auntie. Ah, of all three children, mine’s the only troublemaker.”
Huan’er lowered her eyes, “I might not even get into Tian Zhong.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Chen’s mother glanced at her daughter with a smile. “Who starts by backing away?”
“Exactly,” Song’s mother patted her shoulder, “our little Huan’er has been through wind and waves, the exam will surely be fine.”
There was an urgent knock at the door, and Huan’er patted the flour from her palms, “I’ll get it.”
“Girls are better,” Jing’s mother watched her son enter sloppily, his soccer uniform and shorts all dirty, and sighed to herself. “Lina, I envy you, having such a sensible daughter who can keep you company – that’s a real fleece-lined cotton jacket.”
Chen’s mother teased quietly, “You two could try for another one, maybe you’ll get lucky opening that can.”
“Hmph, that old can, it’d be good enough if it’s not rusted,” she replied.
Just as she finished speaking, Song Cong poked his head into the dining room, “Auntie Jing, are we having canned food today?”
The three mothers exchanged blank looks and fell silent. Song’s mother pushed her son out forcefully, “What canned food? Go look at homework with Huan’er.”
“But I heard…”
“You heard wrong.”
“What’s going on?” Song Cong was completely confused. “Being so secretive about canned food…”
The countdown on the blackboard changed day by day, the numbers getting smaller and smaller. When summer arrived, Chen’s father made a surprise landing at the family quarters. Someone trained in military theory loved surprise attacks, and both Chen’s mother and Huan’er were startled. They unanimously decided the visitor should treat them to a restaurant meal to calm their nerves.
Chen’s father would be deployed with his unit to the capital for Olympic security duties. His words were full of apology, “Though Dad won’t be here for the exam, my heart is with you.”
Compared to matters of national importance, Chen Huan’er’s middle school exam wasn’t worth mentioning. She felt no regret about this at all but rather was full of pride. Looking across all of China, how many people’s fathers could go to the nation’s heart to contribute to the Olympics?
Just thinking about it made her excited, she wanted to write about it in her composition. She’d even thought of the title: “My Dad Is Different.”
Hmm? Something seemed off about that.
Seeing her daughter grinning foolishly, Chen’s mother raised her glass, “Wake up first, come on, let’s toast your father’s departure.”
“Dad, good luck with work, try to get on TV!” Huan’er clinked glasses with her parents, “Cheers!”
Chen’s father was so happy he drained his full glass at once, gesturing enthusiastically as he shared exam tips with his daughter, “The most important thing in exams is being careful when you read the questions – bam! – writing flows like magic, right?”
“How many exams have you taken to be talking about flowing like magic,” Chen’s mother snorted, moving closer to Huan’er as if forming an alliance, “Your dad’s just all theory. Don’t think about anything, just relax, do your best, and leave the rest to fate.”
“Right, listen to your mom. Your mom’s taken many more exams.” Chen’s father surrendered after just one round.
Huan’er sat with her face in her hands, still grinning foolishly. When father came home, it seemed he could bring all the world’s joy with him, but such days were too few. When she was young, she didn’t understand and would ask before each departure when he would return next. The answer was too cruel for her – the wait seemed endless, and the question was too cruel for her father – he felt deeply guilty for never being able to meet her expectations.
Later, she stopped asking. That was her silent statement after becoming more understanding: I understand, so no need to apologize.
We cannot choose our family and parents, but we can choose what kind of children to become.
“I’ve been feeling a bit lost lately,” Huan’er put down her chopsticks, deciding to tell her parents what was on her mind. But speaking would inevitably mean mentioning Sishui, and it seemed like blaming her parents for not having her born in a better place. After thinking it through, she found herself stuck.
Chen’s mother guessed, “Because of Tian Zhong?” Ever since Huan’er went to Song Cong for tutoring, she had guessed it. Her daughter was strong-willed, and she didn’t want to add more pressure, so she kept quiet about it.
Huan’er looked at her parents, lowering her head slightly, “I made Tian Zhong my goal, but everyone else just sees it as a good high school. They all know what they want to do later, they’ve known for a long time – that’s what you call a goal. But I haven’t even thought about it. Classmates all joke that I’m from a small place, and I just feel… sigh, I am from a small place.”
Chen’s father quickly consoled her, “Classmates are just joking around. And what’s wrong with being from a small place? Your mom and I both came from Sishui. Look at our military unit, we have people from all over the country, and everyone still…”
He swallowed the second half of his sentence after receiving a signal from his wife’s eyes.
“Huan’er,” Chen’s mother stroked her daughter’s head, “Where you’re born, whether it’s a city or countryside, that’s just a location, not a label for who you are. You might feel inferior to others because you had less access to more advanced things when you were young, but trust Mom, this is all temporary, it can be changed through effort.”
Chen’s mother paused for a moment, then continued, “Mom thinks it’s good that you don’t know what to do right now, it means you’ve already started thinking about and exploring this question. You have plenty of time to think, take it step by step, bit by bit. Remember the tortoise and hare race? How did the tortoise win?”
She had forgotten this fable that everyone knew.
Wasn’t she just like that tortoise thrown into a group of rabbits?
Suddenly everything became clear. It was like solving a physics problem – Chen Huan’er had now found the corresponding principle, and next was just figuring out how to apply it to calculate the answer.
Chen’s father noticed her expression becoming more relaxed and quickly added, “About future direction, your mom and I discussed it early on. Anything else is fine, but your mom absolutely won’t agree to you studying medicine.”
“Isn’t it obvious,” Chen’s mother raised an eyebrow, “go ask around the compound, who wants their child to study medicine?”
Huan’er burst out laughing. This was indeed true – unless the children were exceptionally gifted or determined to study it no matter what, looking across the medical system, supporters of this choice could be counted on fingers.
The family compound’s nickname – Medical Career Ambition Crushing Base.
“Then… I’ll think about it carefully.” Chen Huan’er told her parents this and also told herself.
After dinner, Huan’er walked in the middle with her parents protecting each side as they strolled back to the family quarters. Chen’s father straightened his daughter’s back, “Have you been exercising lately?”
“Sometimes.”
Before she finished speaking, her father suddenly struck out. She instinctively dodged backward. Then her right hand hooked her father’s arm but was firmly locked, and just as she was about to counter, her mother’s palm struck the back of her head, “Act more like a girl.”
Huan’er protested, “But Dad first…”
“Just practicing,” Chen’s father released his hold, smiling apologetically at his wife, then rubbed his daughter’s head and quietly praised her, “Not bad, keep practicing, but be careful.”
Chen’s mother shook her head and sighed, while Huan’er and her father exchanged secret smiles.
Summer had arrived. It was in the sweaty faces of passing strangers, in the mountains of watermelons piled outside fruit shops, and in the red packets of mosquito kisses on children’s tender skin.
Summer had many markers, but the summer belonging to fifteen-year-old Chen Huan’er was a moving picture: parents by her side, endless conversations, and paths that seemed to stretch on forever.