Why did Lin Qile always want to see Jiang Qiaoxi? This question puzzled her endlessly.
On Friday evening after school, Lin Qile took money from her mother to buy vinegar from Uncle Qin’s small shop at the construction site. Uncle Qin sat behind the counter practicing qigong, his eyes closed, resembling a transcendent master. Lin Qile held her breath, tiptoed, and observed him over the counter for a moment.
“Uncle Qin, what are you practicing?” she asked.
Hearing her voice, Uncle Qin lifted his eyelids and smiled, “Why aren’t you trailing after Jiang Qiaoxi today?”
Lin Qile was startled: he had noticed!
Doesn’t Uncle Qin usually stay indoors? Lin Qile wondered. Could he possess mystical powers to know what happens outside?
Uncle Qin exhaled and shakily stood up from his cushion, leaning on his cane.
Lin Qile looked around and, not seeing the annoying Qin Yeyun, boldly asked, “Uncle Qin, are you practicing the Turtle School’s energy technique?”
Uncle Qin took Lin Qile’s money and reached for the vinegar on the shelf, asking confusedly, “What’s the Turtle School’s energy technique?”
The Turtle School’s energy technique is a formidable skill. Lin Qile entered Yu Qiao’s home carrying the vinegar. Du Shang and Yu Qiao sat on the sofa eating fried shrimp chips and watching “Dragon Ball” on demand.
Du Shang waved a shrimp chip, demonstrating, “My movements are correct, so why can’t I produce an energy ball?”
Du Shang claimed he’d master the Turtle School’s energy technique before the New Year. Lin Qile doubted it, given Du Shang’s poor martial arts foundation and lack of insight; he’d only end up getting beaten.
Lin Qile entered the smoke-filled kitchen, where the exhaust fan whirred ineffectively. Blinded by the smoke, she called out, “Auntie! I’m here for the shrimp chips!”
Before she finished speaking, a small bamboo basket full of golden, glistening large shrimp chips appeared from the smoke, right in front of her.
Yu Qiao’s mother coughed in the smoky kitchen, waving her spatula, “Yingtao, come back tomorrow for fried pork!”
Lin Qile happily replied, “Okay!”
Carrying the heavy vinegar bottle in one hand and the basket of shrimp chips in the other, she was about to leave when an elderly woman entered – Yu Qiao’s grandmother.
“Oh, Yingtao, I was just looking for you!” Grandmother Yu’s eyes lit up.
She approached shakily, her silver hair gleaming, and led Lin Qile to the bedroom doorway, away from the noisy cartoon. She whispered, “Yingtao… is Manager Jiang at your house? Did he call Jiang Qiaoxi’s mother?”
Lin Qile paused, then nodded.
The old woman’s eyes cleared, and her toothless mouth smiled, “Did you hear what they argued about?”
Lin Qile’s mouth opened slightly, but she shook her head. She had forgotten. Just then, Yu Qiao dropped his shrimp chip, stood up from the sofa, and gently pushed his grandmother towards the room. “Grandma,” he said firmly, “aren’t you hard of hearing? Why are you always gossiping?”
Grandmother Yu protested from the bedroom, “What’s wrong with chatting with Yingtao? I really can’t hear clearly!”
Yu Qiao replied, “You say one thing to her, and within half an hour, the entire construction site knows.”
Grandmother Yu retorted, “What can I do? Nobody’s close to Manager Jiang, so I can only ask her.”
Yu Qiao said, “She’s not close to Uncle Jiang either.”
“Doesn’t she always hang around Manager Jiang’s son?” Grandmother Yu argued. “The whole site knows that!”
Lin Qile stood on the steps outside Yu Qiao’s home, holding the vinegar bottle and fried shrimp chips, momentarily dazed.
A dark-gray car was parked at the end of the small path in front of Lin Qile’s dormitory row. She recognized it as Jiang Qiaoxi’s father’s car. She walked around the front of the car and along the path towards her home. Before entering, she heard voices inside.
“Ah, good,” came her father’s voice. “If anything comes up, just call us again.”
Manager Jiang said, “I’ll leave Jiang Qiaoxi here then. I might not return from the Laishui site until next week.”
Lin’s mother asked, “Why such a sudden business trip?”
Lin Qile opened the screen door to see the adults standing in the living room, discussing topics she didn’t understand. Uninterested, she went straight to the radiator.
Jiang Qiaoxi sat in a chair next to the radiator, wearing his square backpack, expressionless. At first glance, he seemed no different from when he first transferred to their school.
He turned to look at Lin Qile.
She set down the vinegar and held out a small green bamboo basket filled with plump, glistening fried shrimp chips.
Without asking, Jiang Qiaoxi reached into Lin Qile’s basket, took a chip, and bit into it.
The shrimp chip was extremely crispy, making a crunching sound with each bite. Lin Qile sat down next to Jiang Qiaoxi, took a chip for herself, and began munching.
The adults’ conversation was incomprehensible and noisy. As Lin Qile ate her chip, she suddenly turned to Jiang Qiaoxi and smiled. He looked at her smile.
Manager Jiang and Lin’s parents were still talking when they heard a noise behind them and turned around.
Jiang Qiaoxi was eating the second “super-large shrimp chip” Lin Qile had picked for him. He had just taken a bite when he looked up and met his father’s gaze.
He had always been quiet, never “noisy” in public or private. Manager Jiang, hearing the sound of the shrimp chip, suddenly felt uncomfortable.
Mr. Lin smiled then, “Let Qiaoxi play with Yingtao and the others this weekend. There are many children at the construction site; he’ll be fine.”
The car was still waiting outside. Jiang Zheng gave a few more instructions and left with his document bag, not even staying for dinner. He had little to say to Jiang Qiaoxi before leaving.
Mrs. Lin went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, and Lin Qile quickly brought her the vinegar. Mr. Lin tidied up the dining table in the living room and turned on the TV. It was nearly six o’clock, and Lin Yingtao always watched “Happy Partners” on “Big Windmill” – no one could compete with her for the TV.
With limited space in the living room, once the dining table was set up, only a few small stools could fit. Jiang Qiaoxi took off his backpack and helped Uncle Lin clear the newspapers and ashtray from the table. Mr. Lin smiled, “Qiaoxi, go wash your hands.”
Jiang Qiaoxi entered the kitchen but didn’t wash his hands immediately. He pushed open the screen door to the backyard and saw Lin Qile crouching in front of the rabbit hutch, busy feeding the rabbits.
Jiang Qiaoxi walked over and sat on the steps nearby.
Mrs. Lin also opened the door and saw her daughter placing a rabbit in Jiang Qiaoxi’s lap. “Stop playing,” she urged, “come in, wash your hands, and eat!”
As darkness fell, Lin Qile returned the rabbit to its hutch. She still had to gather the grass she had dried during the day. Young rabbits couldn’t eat fresh grass as it would upset their stomachs; they could only eat well-dried grass. Jiang Qiaoxi stood up but didn’t go inside.
He watched Lin Qile collect the dried grass leaves from the old tire, carefully arranging them in a bowl, one by one. Her two pigtails hung over her shoulders, curving down. For a moment, Jiang Qiaoxi couldn’t help but wonder: Is this how all girls’ long hair looks?
“Come on,” Lin Qile turned to him, “let’s go eat!”
The light under the eaves dimmed. Lin Qile placed the bowl of neatly arranged grass leaves on the windowsill, then took Jiang Qiaoxi’s hand and ran into the kitchen.
Jiang Qiaoxi didn’t need anyone to look after him; he was now as comfortable in Lin Qile’s home as he was at his cousin’s.
Even during meals, the Lin family no longer needed to constantly offer him dishes as they had before. Jiang Qiaoxi ate what he wanted, with a good appetite and portion sizes larger than Lin Qile’s. Perhaps it was because his father wasn’t there, and his mother wouldn’t call, so there would be no endless family disputes that seemed to involve him but never truly belonged to him.
On Friday night, the Workers’ Club was showing the Hong Kong film “God of Gamblers.” Lin Qile wanted to go, but Jiang Qiaoxi needed to study at home.
“Aren’t you going to the movie with Du Shang and the others?” her mother asked.
Lin Qile shook her head as she helped her mother wipe dishes.
The Electric Construction Company had distributed new welfare items to the workers, including two boxes of Coca-Cola. Lin Qile took her father’s large rubber scissors used for cleaning fish, struggled to cut open the box, and took two cans of Coke in her arms. She also grabbed the basket of fried shrimp chips from Yu Qiao’s mother and headed to the bedroom.
Jiang Qiaoxi was solving problems at Mr. Lin’s desk. When alone, he was remarkably quiet, his presence seeming to suppress the surrounding air.
The pencil tip scratched softly against the paper. Pages turned occasionally, indicating someone who cared for books.
Lin Qile tiptoed in, walking behind him, around the wardrobe, and sat on her small bed.
First, she opened the wardrobe door, took out a rolled bamboo mat, and spread it on the linoleum floor next to her bed. Lin Qile stood on the mat, thinking for a moment, then brought over the Coke and shrimp chips, arranging them as if for a picnic. She climbed onto her small bed, drew back the curtains, and with effort, moved the thriving pothos plant from the windowsill.
Jiang Qiaoxi was reading when he suddenly felt someone standing behind him. He turned his head, pen in hand, to see Lin Qile silently staring at him.
Lin Qile’s eyes were huge, and her intense stare was rather startling.
“What are you doing?” Jiang Qiaoxi asked.
Lin Qile said nothing, reaching to grab Jiang Qiaoxi’s wrist.
Jiang Qiaoxi protested, “What are you doing? I need to study.”
Lin Qile said, “Why don’t you come study over here? It’s the same wherever you study. Look, I have Coke, snacks, and a green plant. If you eat fried shrimp chips, you won’t get a headache from studying. You can do a problem, then look up at the green leaves. The teacher says it’s good for your eyes and prevents nearsightedness—”
Jiang Qiaoxi sighed, “I need to study.”
Lin Qile retorted, “What’s the point of studying anyway—”
“Can you stop being childish?” Jiang Qiaoxi looked down at her. “Lin Qile, can you stand up when you talk?”
Yu Qiao, Du Shang, and the others found “God of Gamblers” boring halfway through. The construction site kept showing the same few movies on rotation, and they had practically memorized “God of Gamblers.”
“Uncle Lin,” Yu Qiao stood at Lin Qile’s door, peering through the screen, “is Lin Yingtao home?”
“She’s home, she’s home,” Mr. Lin was watching a rerun of “Yongzheng Dynasty” on TV. Hearing the noise, he turned to see three young men at his door. “Go on in and find her.”
Yu Qiao pushed open the bedroom door and walked straight toward Lin Qile’s small room.
Du Shang commented from behind, “Why show ‘God of Gamblers’? ‘Titanic’ would be better.”
Cai Fangyuan was the last to enter. The three boys crowded near the wardrobe in the Lins’ bedroom, staring dumbfounded at the scene inside.
Lin Qile sat on the bamboo mat on the floor, her legs stretched out, her strawberry-print skirt draping down. She held a blue Furby in her hands, talking to it.
The Furby asked, “Who are you?”
“Mama,” Lin Qile enunciated slowly, teaching it.
“Mama!” The Furby immediately responded in its stiff, high-pitched mechanical voice, “Mama! Mama!”
Empty Coke cans and a half-eaten basket of shrimp chips lay nearby. Under the chip basket were several calculation papers covered in writing, stained with oil.
Further in on the bamboo mat sat another person.
Jiang Qiaoxi sat cross-legged, bent over his work. Books and an open pencil case surrounded him as if he had moved an entire desk to Lin Qile’s side. While Lin Qile played noisily beside him, Jiang Qiaoxi studied intently, unbothered by her commotion.
As Yu Qiao and the others entered, Lin Qile continued talking to her toy, not even greeting them. Instead, Jiang Qiaoxi looked up at them: “You’re here?”
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Our Generation – Chapter Notes:
Turtle School’s energy technique: A signature move of Son Goku, the protagonist in the Japanese anime “Dragon Ball.”
On-demand channel: A pay-TV channel where viewers can request programs by phone.
“Zao zhi”: Nine-year-old Lin Qile’s mispronunciation of “zao yi” (attainment).
“Happy Partners”: A 52-episode puppet show that began airing on CCTV’s “Big Windmill” program on August 16, 1999.
“God of Gamblers”: A 1989 Hong Kong gambling film directed by Wong Jing and starring Chow Yun-fat.
“Yongzheng Dynasty”: A historical TV drama adapted from Er Yuehe’s novel of the same name, first broadcast on CCTV-1 on January 3, 1999.
“Titanic”: A classic romance film released in the United States on December 19, 1997, and in mainland China on April 3, 1998.
Furby: A popular electronic toy in China in the 1990s, shaped like an owl with simple dialogue repetition functions, sold through TV shopping channels.