Du Shang had mentioned before that he wanted to become a doctor when he grew up.
Lin Qile watched as Du Shang got off the bed and went to his mother’s bedside. He carefully helped his mother smooth her blood-stained hair, then assisted the doctor by holding a small white tray, truly looking like someone who could become a doctor.
The entrance of the staff hospital was chaotic. Lin Qile stood behind her mother, watching an adult male force his way into the hospital despite many people trying to stop him. He reeked of alcohol, wearing dark blue work clothes with an open collar, long hair, and an unkempt beard – the appearance of a man who had lived alone for years.
Uncle Yu had gone upstairs to the director’s office to get an official seal. Now he stood in the stairwell, shouting, “Quick, stop Du Yongchun!”
Lin Qile watched her father come out of the ward, extending his arm to block Uncle Du’s chest. But Uncle Du, with a fixed stare, said, “Old Lin, move aside. I don’t want to fight you, just move aside-“
Lin’s father refused to budge. Inside were Du Shang, his mother, and a group of young nurses. “Brother Du,” he said, “calm down!”
Suddenly, Du Yongchun’s knees buckled, and he fell hard on his knees in front of Lin Diangong.
In front of everyone, Du Yongchun crawled on his knees to the bedside. He reached out to hold his son Du Shang’s hand, but Du Shang retreated further onto the bed, avoiding him like the plague and protecting his mother behind him.
The ward was eerily quiet.
Lin Qile’s hand tightly gripped her mother’s coat. She quietly looked up at her mother, then back at the scene before her, truly puzzled by what she was witnessing.
When dawn broke the next morning, the Qunshan worksite was bustling again. Walking on the street, Lin Qile saw Uncle Qin practicing qigong in front of the small shop, and many uncles and aunts chatting and laughing as they went to the worksite canteen for breakfast. No one seemed to know what had happened at the worksite late last night.
Lin Diangong said he had no work today and could take the children into the city to play. Lin Qile opened the thin “Saint Seiya” comic book on her desk and took out a hundred-yuan note. It was a new, bright red hundred, particularly beautiful.
“Du Shang,” Lin Qile said, walking among the crowd and taking Du Shang’s hand, “let’s go to the new KFC at Qunshan Department Store!”
Du Shang’s eyes were still red and swollen. He had originally planned to accompany his mother to the city hospital for a checkup, but Uncle Yu wouldn’t let him go, and Uncle Lin insisted on taking him out to play.
“KFC?” Du Shang’s voice still had traces of crying; he was indeed very prone to tears. “That KFC? The expensive one?”
Yu Qiao, wearing a down jacket, was observing the passing vehicles from the side. Yu Qiao wasn’t one for sappy gestures, but this time he also put his arm around Du Shang’s neck, like a “good buddy” or “brother.” He said, “Don’t you know Lin Yingtao’s rich now?”
The KFC in Qunshan City had opened on New Year’s Day. When it first opened, it seemed the whole city was talking about it. Some people even held weddings there.
Lin Qile, the three children, and Lin Diangong, the adult, sat in a corner of the KFC in the Qunshan Department Store eating lunch. Each child was devouring a burger, while Lin Diangong watched their eating manners, just smiling without eating, repeatedly marveling, “So this is an American restaurant.”
“Dad,” Lin Qile said, her mouth covered in sauce, raising her burger, “try some!”
Lin Diangong quickly waved his hand, “I’m not used to it, not used to it. You eat it.” He took a napkin and wiped the corners of Lin Qile’s mouth.
After returning to the worksite, when Lin’s mother heard about their meal, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry: “You could eat well in the canteen for five yuan, you’re lavish, spending seventy or eighty for four people?”
With nothing else to do during the winter break, Du Shang stayed at Yu Qiao’s house for several days in a row, and during the day, they would come to play at Lin Qile’s place. Sitting on the edge of Lin Qile’s small bed, he said, “I tried to hit his pressure points that day, why couldn’t I do it?”
Lin Qile was eating a piece of roasted sweet potato nearby. It was so hot she stuck out her tongue, breaking off a small piece to give to Du Shang.
Du Shang held the sweet potato, possibly still pondering why hitting pressure points didn’t work.
Lin Qile tilted her head to look at him and saw tears silently rolling down Du Shang’s face, falling onto the steaming roasted sweet potato.
Lin Qile suddenly felt that what Du Shang thought about every day might be completely different from her and their other peers.
“Du Shang,” Lin Qile said softly, “shall we go see the little white rabbit?”
Du Shang snapped out of his sadness immediately.
In the dead of winter, Lin Qile had placed the rabbit cage in a corner of the kitchen, much warmer than outside.
Du Shang crouched in front of the rabbit cage. With his hand still wrapped in bandages, he tremblingly took the soft, warm little rabbit that Lin Qile handed to him.
“Yingtao.”
“Hmm?”
“Is it that whenever I cry, you let me see the little rabbit?” Du Shang started sobbing again.
Lin Yingtao nodded.
Du Shang said reluctantly, “Then why… why did you let Jiang Qiaoxi hold your little rabbit on his first day of transferring here?”
Lin Yingtao was stunned.
She carefully recalled for a moment, remembering her first meeting with Jiang Qiaoxi several months ago.
“That day, he,” Lin Yingtao didn’t know how to describe it, “that day he also wasn’t very happy… it was a bit like… like he was about to cry too.”
Before the new semester started, Lin Diangong went to the city’s Youth Palace to enroll Lin Qile in a dance specialty class.
While packing Lin Qile’s small schoolbag, her mother scolded her: “First grade you learned painting, second grade calligraphy, third-grade electronic keyboard, and now in fourth grade you’re starting to learn dance. Look at you, don’t you have any persistence?”
Lin Qile felt she was about to become a little dancer. She jumped on the bed and asked, “Dad! When is Jiang Qiaoxi coming back?”
Lin Diangong, cleaning up the dining table, said, “Should be this afternoon, I think.”
Lin Qile ran down from the bed to her desk. From a row of colorful hairpins, she picked out a black one and pinned it in her hair.
Her mother said, “You be good and go to your dance class this afternoon! You can play with him after class… Why not wear a different color? Black looks so old-fashioned.”
Lin Qile looked at herself in the mirror, pouting: “I want black.”
Since Jiang Qiaoxi had transferred to Qunshan, Lin Qile had spent every day with him, never being apart for so long.
The dance class was tiring and painful. During class, Lin Qile even twisted her leg and kept crying after class ended.
Yu Qiao and Du Shang were taking a Chinese painting class next door. Seeing her condition, Yu Qiao had to support her as she limped along. Du Shang said, “Yingtao, you’re wearing a new hairpin today?”
Lin Qile, sniffling and stopping her tears, asked him, “Does it look good?”
“It looks good,” Du Shang said immediately.
Manager Jiang’s car was parked just in front of the road leading to Lin Qile’s house. Jiang Qiaoxi, wearing black boots and a black down jacket, was sitting on the steps in front of his house, holding a blue Bobbi fairy doll with messy fur.
As soon as Yu Qiao and the others appeared, Jiang Qiaoxi stood up.
Lin Qile, with eyes red from crying, walked up and looked at him.
“Jiang Qiaoxi…” she called out.
The “xi” in his name, when she pronounced it, should have been a crisp, laughing sound. But she had just been crying, her face a mix of tears and smiles, which finally turned into a purely tearful expression of grievance. Dragging out the sound of “xi,” it sounded like she was crying and acting coy.
Lin Diangong let the children into the house. He rubbed his daughter’s head, allowing Lin Qile to cry out loud. After asking Yu Qiao, he learned that Lin Qile had fallen while stretching her legs in dance class, landing in a squatting position under the horizontal bar, which was very embarrassing as everyone laughed at her.
“As soon as you see me, you cry,” Jiang Qiaoxi entered the bedroom and placed the little fairy doll on Lin Qile’s bedside table, finally returning it to its rightful owner. He sat on the edge of Lin Qile’s bed and looked up at her.
Lin Qile stood in front of him, as if standing in punishment, her two pigtails hanging down to her shoulders.
Jiang Qiaoxi noticed the black hairpin in her hair. Lin Qile’s eyes were red from crying, making them appear even larger.
Lin Qile wore a peach-colored cotton coat with a furry hood at the back of the collar.
Jiang Qiaoxi asked, “Have you finished your winter break homework?”
Lin Qile said, “You’ve finished yours, right?”
“I have,” Jiang Qiaoxi said.
“I haven’t,” Lin Qile answered.
“Yu Qiao wants to borrow my homework,” Jiang Qiaoxi said.
“Then what am I supposed to copy?” Lin Qile said dejectedly, about to cry again.
“Can’t you write it yourself?” Jiang Qiaoxi said.
Lin Qile shook her head, completely unapologetic.
On the day of the Lantern Festival, the Zhongneng Power Plant Elementary School hadn’t started yet. Jiang Qiaoxi got up early in the morning, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and received a call from his cousin. He was a bit anxious, finished the call, put on his coat, and went next door to Lin Qile’s house to eat tangyuan.
Lin Qile ate too hastily, and the black sesame filling spilled out, burning her tongue. She had to set aside her bowl of tangyuan and, under Jiang Qiaoxi’s supervision, reluctantly continued to work on her math homework.
As March approached, Jiang Qiaoxi studied in Lin Qile’s small room until after nine o’clock one night. When he returned to his own home next door, he happened to encounter his father making a phone call in the living room.
“Your son wants to come himself, stop going crazy on me,” Jiang Zheng sat on the sofa, smoking and reading the newspaper.
He looked back and saw Jiang Qiaoxi coming in. Jiang Zheng used the hand holding the cigarette to pick up a very delicate black box from the coffee table, lifting it and putting it back down in the same spot.
“Birthday gift,” Jiang Zheng put the landline receiver back and said to his son, “for you.”
Jiang Qiaoxi looked at the black box, standing motionless.
Jiang Zheng continued reading the newspaper. After a while, noticing Jiang Qiaoxi hadn’t reacted, he turned back, flicking his cigarette ash: “Go open it and take a look.”
Jiang Qiaoxi walked forward through the smoke-filled room. He picked up the box as if picking up a fate he had no choice but to accept. He walked back to his bedroom, closed the door, sat down on his bed, and quickly opened the box.
A pure black watch lay inside.
Jiang Qiaoxi hung his head, his ink-like eyes fixed on the black watch strap, black dial, and black hands before him.
His nose stung, and he couldn’t help but bite his lip bitterly.
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Notes for this Our Generation – Chapter:
“It was a new, bright red hundred, particularly beautiful”: On October 1, 1999, the People’s Bank of China issued the fifth series of RMB (1999 version), with the 100 yuan denomination in red. The previous fourth series 100 yuan note was blue.