Throughout her workday, Lin Yingtao was on edge, worried about Du Shang’s situation in Shanghai. She couldn’t reach him by phone and had no idea how he was doing. As kindergarten let out and parents came to pick up their children, Lin Yingtao guided each child by the shoulder, discussing the summer heat and stomach issues with parents. Nearby, she overheard several parents huddled together, chuckling as they watched trending news videos on their phones.
The corridor echoed with children’s laughter and screams, conversations between parents and teachers, mixed with a female host’s introduction from the video, and Du Shang’s exaggerated “Ah-da~~!” as he flailed about.
By 6 PM, Du Shang finally appeared in the Qunshan Small Dining Table WeChat group.
Du Shang said: “You all know already, I’ve finished giving my statement [dejected][dejected][dejected][dejected]”
Cai Fangyuan asked: “Are you alright?”
Yu Qiao inquired: “What did the police say?”
Du Shang sent a crying face: “I don’t know… but the police uncle seemed okay with me, so… it shouldn’t be too serious, right? [crying][crying]”
Yu Qiao said: “It’s already come to this.”
Lin Yingtao asked: “Du Shang, have you eaten?”
Du Shang replied: “Didn’t eat lunch, had a few bites of boxed meal at 4.”
Lin Yingtao said: “Go eat something quick. Do you need to go back to the police station?”
Du Shang responded bewilderedly: “I don’t know anything right now [crying][crying]”
Cai Fangyuan said decisively: “Where are you? I’ll come find you!”
Around 6:30 PM, Cai Fangyuan called Lin Yingtao, saying he’d met up with Du Shang: “There are so many people, his senior colleagues from the hospital are all here keeping him company. I’ll call you guys if anything comes up.”
That night, Weibo and forums were abuzz, with netizens dubbing Du Shang the “Modern-day Wong Fei-hung.” But in Du Shang’s small home in the provincial capital’s headquarters complex, his mother wept anxiously while old colleagues tried to comfort her. Team Leader Yu sat at Du Shang’s small dining table, brows furrowed, cigarette between his teeth, looking at news about hospital violence that Yu Jin had found for him on an iPad. “What’s the worst-case scenario?” Team Leader Yu asked his old friend.
Electrician Lin sat nearby, surveying Du Shang’s small kitchen before turning to look at Du Shang’s mother outside—she had raised Du Shang alone at the construction site when she was young, which wasn’t easy. Now, after eight years of medical school, Du Shang was finally about to graduate, only for this to happen.
These men had worked their entire lives for the Electric Power Construction Group, and in their fifties, they’d never even been to Shanghai.
“I heard from Yingtao that he might have his wages docked,” Electrician Lin said softly.
Team Leader Yu listened without commenting.
“He might also be suspended from work,” Electrician Lin added.
Team Leader Yu looked up, his eyes widening.
“If it’s considered a ‘mutual fight,’ he could even be detained…” Electrician Lin hadn’t finished speaking.
Team Leader Yu removed his cigarette, unable to find an ashtray, he extinguished it in a mosquito coil dish: “I think we should buy a train ticket to Shanghai tomorrow—”
Outside the kitchen, Du Shang’s mother’s phone suddenly rang with an unknown number. She looked at it nervously, her face tear-stained, and turned back, choking out, “Brother Yu, Brother Yu… Du Yongchun is calling…”
Team Leader Yu quickly stood up and went over to answer the old flip phone.
Electrician Lin stood in the kitchen doorway.
“Who am I? You tell me who I am,” Team Leader Yu began, “What do you want… who else do you want to hit, Du Yongchun?”
Used to be the big brother at the construction site, but he could still be intimidating over the phone: “Du Yongchun, society isn’t like when you used to beat your wife and kid anymore, you know? If you go to Shanghai and raise a hand, the police will arrest you! Don’t you think Du Shang has enough trouble in Shanghai already?”
“Oh, now you realize your child can be bullied out there?” A room full of old Qunshan workers fell silent as Yu Zhenfeng said with a bitter smile, “Where were you before?”
Late at night, the hospital cafeteria was still packed. Du Shang suddenly received a call from his mother in the provincial capital, while several senior and junior colleagues insisted on taking photos with him. Du Shang was good-natured, smiling even when exhausted, but now he furrowed his brow slightly, speaking softly to comfort her: “Mom! I told you it’s fine, come on, there’s no use in worrying—”
The phone on the other end was taken by someone else.
“Du Shang!”
Du Shang was startled: “Un-Uncle Yu?”
Cai Fangyuan sat at a table outside the crowd, eating braised chicken feet. His phone lay beside him, lit up. In the group chat, Qin Yeyun was giving Du Shang advice: “Du Shang, if your hospital fires you! Come work at our beauty salon! We’d love to have a medical student like you, with your qualifications, you can find work anywhere!”
Uncle Yu spoke gravely on the phone: “Du Shang, don’t be afraid, and don’t panic. If those troublemakers contact you again or give you any trouble, don’t engage with them. Call the police immediately! Talk to your hospital leaders, or call me and your Uncle Lin! We’ll come to Shanghai tomorrow to see you—”
“No, no, no, no—” Du Shang hurriedly said, startled and no longer smiling for his seniors’ cameras. His eyebrows drooped as he said, “No need, Uncle Yu, you don’t need to come—”
Cai Fangyuan finished the chicken feet and started on the white-cut chicken in the bag. He had originally bought it to comfort Du Shang, but with so many people coming to see Du Shang after watching the trending Weibo video, there was no chance to eat it, so he decided to eat it himself.
As Du Shang stammered, trying to dissuade his worried elders from afar, suddenly a senior colleague pulled him from behind. Du Shang turned to see their director’s wife, who had just come from the director’s hospital room.
“You must be Du Shang!” The director’s wife had just come from her husband’s hospital room. She grabbed Du Shang’s hand and held onto the arm of Du Shang’s senior colleague nearby. It was these students who had managed to carry her husband into the department amid the chaos earlier that day.
The director’s wife took Du Shang’s phone and asked, “Are you Du Shang’s father?”
Du Shang was stunned, not knowing what Uncle Yu was saying on the other end.
“Don’t worry, your child won’t be in any trouble!” the director’s wife promised, her eyes red-rimmed. “We absolutely won’t let anything happen to such a clever student here!”
Cai Fangyuan took a sip of beer and looked up to see Du Shang standing in the crowd, among his senior and junior colleagues. Du Shang lowered his head to listen to the director’s wife, holding his phone as Uncle Yu’s call ended. Suddenly, Du Shang raised the back of his hand to wipe his eyes.
After a few days of news coverage, Lin Yingtao suddenly received a call from Du Shang while at work. The police had notified him that after assessing the injuries of the family members involved and reviewing surveillance video evidence, they determined that Du Shang hadn’t harmed anyone and wouldn’t face punishment.
Du Shang’s tone was much lighter. As Lin Yingtao listened, she no longer seemed as anxious and indignant as she had been at the hospital before.
“Yingtao, I’m going back to work now!” Du Shang told her.
She also received a photo from Jiang Qiaoxi of a newly erected financial center next to the downtown pedestrian street in the provincial capital.
“When will you come to take a look?” Jiang Qiaoxi asked her.
“Is the office renovation finished?” Lin Yingtao replied.
“Yes.”
Lin Yingtao said: “I’ll come when summer vacation starts.”
Jiang Qiaoxi sat in the reception room, hosting several investors and an investment manager from Hong Kong who was passing through the provincial capital on a business trip to Beijing—a friend of his cousin. Jiang Qiaoxi lowered his head, taking the opportunity to glance at Yingtao’s message. He couldn’t help but smile and replied: “That’s nice, still having summer vacations.”
“Qiaoxi’s cousin, Jiang Ruocheng, you should know him,” the guests were conversing, “We’ve been colleagues and old friends for over ten years in Hong Kong. Everyone knows that in ’08, Qiaoxi took care of his brother for a long time. His character is reliable, he’s quick-witted and smart. I have classmates at Morgan Stanley who’ve told me several times that Jiang Ruocheng’s cousin truly lives up to being a product of China’s national math Olympiad selection system. He’s flawless in every aspect, with top-notch stress resistance, rapid learning ability, attention to detail, diligence, calmness in the face of challenges, and a stable mindset! Of course, most importantly, he’s intelligent with a gift for mathematics, far surpassing us ordinary people in this regard—”
“Then why did he come back to the mainland?” an investor asked, turning to look at Jiang Qiaoxi. He smiled and said, “Leaving Morgan Stanley, not developing in Beijing, Shanghai, or Guangzhou, but returning to a second-tier provincial capital to do private equity, is family that important?” He looked at Jiang Qiaoxi’s face and remarked softly, “This young man is handsome enough to be a celebrity!”
Everyone laughed, saying this was the future star private equity manager.
“Are you thinking of changing careers?” the investor asked softly when he saw Jiang Qiaoxi hadn’t spoken, “Like your predecessors who made enough money and ‘escaped’ investment banking, some even dramatically ‘escaped’ the finance industry altogether.”
Someone nearby said: “That’s quite a statement. Mr. Jiang is just starting his new career, and you’re already talking about ‘escaping’.”
At 4 PM, Jiang Qiaoxi saw off most of the guests. Sitting in the reception room, his assistant came in to say a courier had delivered something. Jiang Qiaoxi glanced at it as he listened to his cousin’s old colleague continue discussing the current “favorable timing, geographical advantage, and human harmony” of China’s financial industry.
Jiang Qiaoxi listened with his head lowered, able to be less formal in front of a familiar elder. He reached up to loosen his tie and remove it, slowly folding it in his hands.
“Who picked this out for you?” the elder suddenly asked with a smile from across the room.
Jiang Qiaoxi was startled and looked at the Hermès tie in his hand.
“My wife,” Jiang Qiaoxi answered honestly.
To be precise, this was the tie Yingtao had bought especially with her first month’s salary, and mailed to Jiang Qiaoxi’s office desk in Hong Kong.
When Jiang Qiaoxi opened the package at the time, he had been working continuously for nearly 20 hours. In front of his colleagues and superiors, he changed into this new tie and continued working.
The elder smiled: “Is this the girl who visited Ruocheng at the hospital in Hong Kong?”
Jiang Qiaoxi recalled that they had indeed met in the hospital room.
“Yes, it’s her.”
“Qiaoxi.”
“Yes?”
“Do you like the finance industry?” the elder asked earnestly.
“I do.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Jiang Qiaoxi replied without hesitation, his voice soft with gratitude.
When his cousin called, Jiang Qiaoxi had already seen off the elder relative. He was in a meeting with researchers who, like him, were starting their first day at the company.
Jiang Qiaoxi’s career was about to enter its second phase from this brand-new office floor. Nearly half of the researchers present were fresh graduates who had originally planned to work at the Shanghai headquarters. Instead, they were assigned to this newly formed team led by Jiang Qiaoxi, following him to his hometown.
These young researchers mostly hailed from prestigious universities. If not for Jiang Qiaoxi’s impressive track record at Morgan Stanley and the rumors of his “mysterious withdrawal from the National Math Olympiad despite winning gold,” they likely wouldn’t have come. They were here to learn something unique from him.
The young researchers had already heard the gossip—Jiang Qiaoxi was reportedly the kind of genius who would explain problems to others even right before the national Math Olympiad winter camp exam. In Hong Kong’s investment banking circles, he had a good reputation. Though he seemed distant, he was quite approachable.
After the meeting, Jiang Qiaoxi assigned some “small tasks” to the researchers, just as his internship supervisor had done years ago. Returning to his office, he noticed a small courier box on the corner of his desk. He called his cousin back while looking for a letter opener to open the package.
“I originally wanted to drive him to the airport myself,” Jiang Qiaoxi said about his cousin’s old colleague, “but he said he had other plans and wouldn’t let me. So I let it go.”
His cousin laughed, “I know, he just called me from the airport.”
They chatted about the colleague, his cousin’s recent health recovery, Jiang Qiaoxi’s new office setup, and his wedding preparations with Yingtao, and briefly mentioned that his mother-in-law’s eyes had been checked and were fine.
“By the way, Qiaoxi,” his cousin suddenly said, “yesterday an old classmate of mine visited from Japan.”
“Which classmate?”
“The one I’ve mentioned before,” his cousin explained. “The one who recommended many of those math textbooks I bought for you.”
Jiang Qiaoxi paused for two seconds: “Oh, him.”
“His experiences over the years have been quite rich,” his cousin mused. “He went to the US to study petroleum engineering, worked in oil fields for a few years, then met a Japanese girlfriend, got married, and had children. Today he suddenly told me he’s applied for a math PhD at the University of Tokyo and has moved to Japan with his family.”
Jiang Qiaoxi was stunned for a moment.
“Impressive,” he said softly.
His cousin waited silently as if expecting Jiang Qiaoxi to continue.
But Jiang Qiaoxi said nothing more.
So his cousin went on: “I told him, ‘You’re amazing, how did you manage to go into academia?’ He said he’d always planned to, but since his undergraduate degree wasn’t in math, he didn’t dare try easily. He held back for many years until last year when he heard about a mathematician surnamed Zhang who reportedly worked at Subway for many years. That’s when he felt life shouldn’t leave regrets—”
“Is he talking about Zhang Yitang?” Jiang Qiaoxi said quietly.
“Yes, the recently famous mathematician,” his cousin said. “Qiaoxi, you follow this too?”
Jiang Qiaoxi had opened the courier box with the letter opener. It was a local delivery, poorly packaged, with an old MP3 player wrapped in plastic foam, along with a brand new pair of earphones and a newly configured charger. Jiang Qiaoxi picked up the repaired MP3 player, his fingers brushing over the faded sticker Yingtao had put on it years ago.
“Qiaoxi,” his cousin suddenly asked, “have you ever thought about continuing your studies?”
“How can I compare to them?”
“Why can’t you compare—”
Jiang Qiaoxi calmly replied: “One has systematically studied for a math PhD, and the other has already established a family and career with no worries. I’m neither… Besides, it’s been too long… I wouldn’t learn much now.”
“Qiaoxi, you’ve had a gift since childhood—”
“There are too many gifted people,” Jiang Qiaoxi said placidly. From his tone, it seemed he had long forgotten the “miracle” that once appeared in him, while only his cousin still dwelled on it.
His cousin fell silent.
“Qiaoxi,” he slowly said, with a slight laugh, “I called today to congratulate you, on your new office and team, on returning to work and living in your hometown… I just want you to know that both Yingtao and I hope you can live the life you want in the future.”
Jiang Qiaoxi suddenly turned his neck, feeling stiff after a day’s work.
“I know,” he said contentedly, sitting alone in his office, swiveling in his chair.
On his way home, Jiang Qiaoxi put on one earphone. His left hand was on the steering wheel, and his right hand pressed the small MP3 player in front of him. He could still recall the last time he saw this device—it was during the summer break of his second year in high school, on the train to Beijing for a summer camp.
Back then, Jiang Qiaoxi had an unquestioned future ahead of him. He was going to America for further studies. His greatest wish was for Yingtao to go with him. He wanted her to accompany him in his future life, and he was willing to bear all the costs.
This wish was undoubtedly selfish. Yingtao had always avoided this topic; she was too attached to home. For her at that time, “Jiang Qiaoxi” was far from being the only or the most important thing. On the train, sitting beside him, as soon as he asked about TOEFL vocabulary, she put on her headphones and fell asleep next to him, as if escaping.
Seven years later, when the old TOEFL listening recording came through the earphones, Jiang Qiaoxi didn’t react immediately.
The traffic light ahead had turned red, and Jiang Qiaoxi belatedly slammed on the brakes.
He stared at the pedestrian crossing ahead, at the coming and going crowds.
In the last few months before they parted, Yingtao was always listening to this MP3 player. She listened during class, after school, and even during morning self-study sessions. Jiang Qiaoxi thought she was listening to popular songs or some high school English lessons. Yingtao never told him; she just listened alone, head down, never sharing her earphones with anyone.
The familiar male voice finished the 2006 listening test and began the 2005 one. Jiang Qiaoxi remembered taking the test in early 2007 when TOEFL had just been revised, and the listening files were all old, from before.
The piano prelude suddenly started, catching Jiang Qiaoxi off guard.
A new female singer from the millennium sang: “In my childhood, noisy and willful—”
Then the music abruptly stopped.
Accompanied by a scratching sound.
“…Sing it again, please sing it again!”
It was a little girl’s plea from over a decade ago.
The traffic light ahead changed from red to green, reflected in Jiang Qiaoxi’s suddenly moist eyes.
And so the little boy from over a decade ago began to sing softly again.
Like a bird on the wire,
Like a drunk in a midnight choir,
I have tried in my own way to be free.
If I have been unkind, I hope that you can try to let it go;
If I have ever been deceived, it was because I thought love must include lies.
Like an unborn child, like a beast with horns;
I have hurt everyone who opened their arms to me.
I swear by this song…
As the car entered the underground garage of the residential complex, the headlights swept across a young woman standing in the middle of the road. She wore a light blue dress with yellow flower patterns, her legs slender, feet in a pair of flat shoes. Her long hair was tied up, and she held a glass food container in both hands, its contents unknown.
She was waving goodbye to the owner of a nearby car when Jiang Qiaoxi’s headlights illuminated her. She turned her head, squinting. Upon seeing Jiang Qiaoxi, she smiled.
In this day and age, people living in the same building rarely know each other, let alone neighbors on different floors or even those living face to face.
But Lin Yingtao could still chat pleasantly with all the neighbors.
Yingtao opened the passenger door and got in. Jiang Qiaoxi’s car instantly gained a touch of feminine charm. “Why are you off work so early?” Lin Yingtao asked.
Jiang Qiaoxi looked at her.
“What’s that?” he asked, glancing at the glass food container on her lap.
Lin Yingtao lowered her head: “I soaked some sea cucumbers. Mom and Dad always forget to eat them, so I’ll take them over.” She looked up at him, her hair swaying and brushing against her shoulders. She studied his face. “Is your first day at work tiring?”
Jiang Qiaoxi removed his earphones, the small MP3 player already tucked into his trouser pocket. Yingtao saw it but didn’t know what it was. He covered her left hand with his right, pulled her close, and kissed her face affectionately.
As the car started moving again, he squeezed her hand and then drove her to her parents’ home.
Yingtao went upstairs to help with cooking. Jiang Qiaoxi opened the garage door, chatting with his father-in-law while helping him check the Santana bought in 2005. The car was old, like a person, willing but unable. With the hood lifted and propped up, Jiang Qiaoxi rolled up his sleeves, using a flashlight to inspect the internal conditions.
Electrician Lin stood nearby, chatting with Jiang Qiaoxi about young Du Shang’s situation in Shanghai. He expressed concern for Yingtao, worried she might make mistakes at work or face troubles with her parents.
Jiang Qiaoxi listened.
This was the second time, counting when he and Yingtao got their marriage certificate, that Uncle Lin had spoken to him about such matters. Coincidentally, these were also concerns Jiang Qiaoxi had harbored.
“The security at their place is quite strict,” Jiang Qiaoxi said. “They’ve hired quite a few guards too.”
Electrician Lin looked at Qiaoxi in the dim light of the garage, as if looking at an exceptionally outstanding son sent by heaven.
“Good,” Electrician Lin said softly.
“Dad,” Jiang Qiaoxi looked at him and suddenly added, “I’m here for her.”
Electrician Lin smiled, and sighed, his eyes crinkling with smile lines. He patted Qiaoxi’s tall back.
An old colleague passed by on a bicycle, saw Electrician Lin and Jiang Qiaoxi busy, and stopped to greet them: “Is Yingtao back at her parents for a meal again? Qiaoxi, you young couple should learn to cook! Don’t be like those other young people always ordering takeout!”
Lin Yingtao lifted the pot lid and saw the sea cucumber porridge was ready. She covered the pot, turned off the heat, and then left the kitchen to help her mother continue setting up the mosquito net.
Her mother asked about Jiang Qiaoxi’s work, frowning as she said, “He won’t be staying up so late anymore, right?”
Lin Yingtao, tucking in the bed sheet, said, “Probably not,” then turned to look at her mother. “Why?”
Lin Yingtao sat on the edge of the bed, shoulder to shoulder with her mother as they talked. Her mother told her that Qiaoxi’s previous late nights in Hong Kong were unavoidable, but now that he’s back: “You should keep an eye on him, tell him not to work so hard!”
Jiang Qiaoxi closed the hood, took the towel his father-in-law handed him, and wiped the oil from his hands. “The hotel is booked. It’s hard to book during National Day,” he told his father-in-law. “Next week I’ll go with Yingtao to look at wedding dresses.”
“You should take wedding photos in advance,” Electrician Lin nodded.
Jiang Qiaoxi stepped on the motion sensor light in the old building, going upstairs with his father-in-law.
“After the photos are taken, print several copies,” Electrician Lin suggested. “Put a few in Yingtao’s small room here too.”
“Mm,” Jiang Qiaoxi nodded, feeling a bit ashamed in front of his father-in-law. “We should have done it earlier, it’s been two years since we got married—”
“If only what I said would work,” Lin Yingtao said to her mother while ladling porridge. “You haven’t seen how he used to study…”
Her mother shook her head, counting spoons and chopsticks.
Jiang Qiaoxi entered the house and went to the bathroom to wash his hands thoroughly again, removing his watch. Just then, Yingtao slipped in, nestling into his arms.
“Mom wants you to stop working overtime and staying up late in the future,” Lin Yingtao said, looking up at him.
Jiang Qiaoxi’s hands were still wet, and the bathroom was cramped. He looked down at her. “What?”
He hugged her and kissed her cheek as she turned her face away.
The bathroom door was left slightly ajar from the inside, the faucet still dripping. Lin Yingtao had meant to play around with him, but Jiang Qiaoxi held her tightly, not letting go.
Lin Yingtao’s cheek was pressed against his shirt. She hugged him back.
During dinner, her mother said, “Yingtao, your high school classmate, Xin Tingting, she’s back in the neighborhood.”
Lin Yingtao was eating a piece of carrot Jiang Qiaoxi had picked for her. She put down her chopsticks. “Tingting is at home now?”
It was too dark outside, so Jiang Qiaoxi wanted to accompany her. Lin Yingtao changed into flat shoes, clutching a red wedding invitation in her hand. She said, “You wait for me at home, eat some more. I have some things to talk about with Tingting! You don’t need to come.”
Thinking of her high school classmate, Xin Tingting, Lin Yingtao realized she had never found the right opportunity to properly explain her relationship with Jiang Qiaoxi—in the past, she had chosen to partially conceal it, and they hadn’t had much contact since.
Lin Yingtao felt that there were some things she needed to tell her in person.
That night, it wasn’t quite outside Xin Tingting’s building.
“What’s going on? The daughter just came back and they’re arguing again,” nearby residents whispered. Suddenly, someone said, “Oh my, Yingtao! Why are you here?”