Shortly after the start of the third year of high school, Xiao Man’s grandmother fell ill and passed away.

Fortunately, labor union officials and neighbors helped Xiao Man handle the funeral affairs, and by the time he returned to class with a black armband, he had lost seven or eight pounds. During one class period, Xiao Man was summoned to the staff office by Teacher Tong, who told him that Principal Hou and Ma, the department officer from the factory’s labor and personnel office, wanted to meet with him.

Officer Ma measured Xiao Man’s height with a glance and said: “A good thing you’re nearly an adult. Otherwise you’d really have to be sent to an orphans’ school. Our factory operates as a complete social unit, and it won’t leave you without support. Two things to discuss today: first, meals — I’ve spoken to the cafeteria in the bachelor dormitory; you can eat there without paying. Second, a subsidy — the first floor of the administrative building houses the finance office. Go to the finance office at the beginning of each month to collect one hundred yuan in hardship assistance. However — you’re still young, so you must keep a record of your spending and show it to Teacher Tong for review.”

Xiao Man bowed to Officer Ma and said thank you.

Officer Ma said: “Don’t thank me — you should thank Teacher Tong and Principal Hou for writing the report on your behalf.”

Xiao Man turned and bowed to Teacher Tong and Principal Hou. Teacher Tong held him by the shoulders and told him: “Now that you have money in hand, don’t spend it recklessly. Don’t associate with shady characters from outside the factory. Learn to be frugal, and bring me the account ledger to review.”

Officer Ma rose to leave and patted Xiao Man’s arm: “Keep at it, child!” Then he turned back to Principal Hou and said: “Principal Hou, thank you for your trouble. This is the youngest person in the whole factory on a five-guarantee welfare program.”

From that day on, Xiao Man went to the bachelor dormitory cafeteria every day for dinner. He brought two aluminum lunch boxes — eating one portion on the spot and taking the other as the next day’s lunch. At midday break each day, the students in the class who brought lunch would gather together to sample each other’s food. Xiao Man’s food was the least popular. Xia Lei asked him: “Why is the pork from the cafeteria so tough? Why is the skin so thick?” Xiao Man was entirely unbothered: “What’s so surprising about that? Two days ago at the cafeteria, I actually ate a sow’s nipple in my vegetables.”

The bachelor dormitory building housed mostly newly assigned university graduates, and the cafeteria stayed open all year without closing. Gradually, everyone got to know Xiao Man, who ate there as a single guest. After finishing his meal, Xiao Man wouldn’t rush home but spread out his exam papers right there at the dining table to do homework. When he encountered problems he couldn’t solve, he would consult the older students eating at the cafeteria: if a chemistry formula stumped him, he asked Little Xiao Cao from the physics and chemistry lab; if a physics circuit diagram puzzled him, he asked Little Fang, the power plant technician; if he didn’t recognize an English word, he went to ask Little Qian from the intelligence office.

The most delicate beauty among the bachelor dormitory residents was Dr. Xiao Wang, freshly graduated from a medical vocational school and practicing pediatrics. She had a thin, gentle voice in ordinary speech, and the same lofty bearing and tart temperament as Lin Daiyu. Dr. Xiao Wang had been in a relationship with Da Chen, the accountant from the finance office, for some time, but for some unknown reason they had quarreled and broken up. She had been knitting a white scarf to give to Accountant Da Chen, but unfortunately by the time she was casting off the final stitches, the two of them had completely ended things. Dr. Xiao Wang simply brought the white scarf to the cafeteria and draped it over Xiao Man’s neck while he was scooping the last of his rice.

Xiao Man was still scooping the last mouthful of his meal when the scarf was suddenly thrown around his neck. He looked up in bewilderment, stood up with rice still in his mouth.

“Very nice — a good match!” Looking at her knitting work alongside Xiao Man’s face, Dr. Xiao Wang felt quite satisfied.

Xiao Man swallowed the last mouthful of rice and asked: “Sister Wang, this wool must have been expensive. How much should I give you?”

Dr. Xiao Wang said: “This is a gift for you — no money needed. Just remember Sister’s kindness and don’t be as ungrateful as Accountant Chen!”

The next day when Xiao Man came to class wearing the white scarf, the students all gathered around to touch and admire it. Xiao Dan quietly pinched him on one side while asking sourly: “Does this scarf your Sister Xiao Wang knitted smell nice?”

Xiao Man grimaced in response: “Doesn’t smell nice. It hurts!”

Xiao Man went to Xia Lei’s home for dinner wearing the white scarf. Xia Lei’s mother took the scarf in her hands and examined it back and front for a long time, saying: “Dr. Xiao Wang knitted this beautifully — it looks like pineapple stitching combined with ingot needlework.”

Xiao Man said: “I think a scarf is less warm than a tube scarf though.”

Xia Lei’s mother said: “Silly child — a scarf is stylish, a tube scarf is rustic.”

Xiao Man went to the finance office wearing the white scarf to collect his subsidy. Accountant Da Chen fingered the scarf and let out a long sigh.

Xiao Man said: “Brother Chen, this was actually meant to be yours. Should I return it to its rightful owner?”

Accountant Da Chen kept sighing and said: “Forget it, forget it. What’s done is done. Xiao Man, you keep wearing it.”

Every day on his bike ride to and from school, Xiao Man was always stopped by adults he didn’t know, who called out to ask how he was doing. Once, he ran into Director Yan on the road and couldn’t get away before Director Yan called out to him: “On such a cold day, aren’t you cold with that bare neck?” Without waiting for Xiao Man to answer, Director Yan reached out and did up his shirt button.

Xiao Man also frequently encountered Master Ding on the road. When Master Ding wasn’t giving injections, he rode his bicycle at a leisurely pace, without his rolling pin in the bicycle basket. He stopped to ask Xiao Man: “Young man, is the cafeteria food enough to fill you up?”

Xiao Man said: “It’s alright — enough to fill me.”

Master Ding said: “Then there’s no big problem. Remember: eat more steamed buns, eat less rice — wheat gives you strength!”

During holidays, neighbors and teachers took turns calling Xiao Man to come eat at their homes. Xiao Man would finish one bowl and then help himself to another, and if he ate too much he would feel embarrassed and belch. “Eat more, eat more! A growing crop needs the most nourishment,” the adults would all encourage him.

Xiao Man ate at Xia Lei’s home most often. Xia Lei’s father, knowing that Xiao Man loved snow-cotton red bean paste most of all, personally taught him step by step how to beat the egg batter. Father Xia jokingly said: “You’re learning this dish from me, and someday when you’ve started your own family, you can make it for little Xiao Man.”

Everyone knew that Xiao Man always kept a pair of chopsticks in his schoolbag, ready at any moment to accept an invitation and eat at one household after another. Xiao Dan once joked to Xiao Man that he was the “Son of Xi Tie Cheng.”

“I only appeared on the factory television station once — that doesn’t make me so exceptional, does it?” Xiao Man asked.

“That’s not what I meant by that. If that were the meaning, I’d call you the ‘Pride of Xi Tie Cheng,'” Xiao Dan teased.

Only then did Xiao Man understand: “I get what you mean now. ‘Son of Xi Tie Cheng’? You might as well call me the one who eats the charity meals of Xi Tie Cheng.”

Following Teacher Tong’s requirement, Xiao Man prepared a ledger and carefully recorded each month’s expenditures, handing it to Teacher Tong for review from time to time.

“I didn’t expect you to be quite so frugal — you don’t even spend the whole hundred yuan. What, are you saving up to buy a color TV?” Teacher Tong flipped through the ledger and joked.

Xiao Man smiled and said nothing. He was indeed saving money.

There was still more than half a year before the college exam, after which Xiao Dan would certainly go away to university. Xiao Man was preparing to send her off with a graduation gift worthy of the occasion. For this purpose, he had made many trips to the commercial center in the city, looking here and browsing there, until he finally arrived at the audio-visual merchandise counter.

The Sony Walkman on the counter was priced at 2,998 yuan, and Xiao Man was astonished to the point of clicking his tongue. The salesperson explained that this newly launched model used gum-stick batteries and had an LCD remote control. Xiao Man said: it’s basically a blood-sucking machine — even if you bled me dry and sold me, I wouldn’t fetch three thousand yuan. The salesperson then pointed to another model and said that one was the basic version, 1,598 yuan, and the sound quality wasn’t bad either. Xiao Man held it and listened through the headphones for a good while, then said it was more like it and that he’d come back next time to buy it. The salesperson rolled her eyes — she’d heard too many such “next time” promises. She turned her head and ignored Xiao Man.

Xiao Man was speaking from the heart — he truly intended to come back next time. It was just that “next time” was the end of the college exam six months away. Xiao Dan would only go through this one college exam in her entire life, and he would buy that Walkman no matter what it took. Returning home from the city, Xiao Man lay awake at night calculating: his grandmother had left a savings book with more than a thousand yuan, he didn’t have to spend money on meals, and he would wear old clothes — there would surely be a way to make it work.

In order to save the money sooner, Xiao Man found a part-time job during the winter holiday as a delivery worker at a private liquefied gas exchange point.

That year, Xi Tie Cheng had seen the emergence of private liquefied gas exchange points. Private business owners hired people to transport the liquefied gas cylinders from restaurants and residential buildings to state-owned gas stations for refilling, earning the markup and handling fees in between. In the 1990s, it was rare for ordinary households to have telephone installations, so Xiao Man would pedal his three-wheeled cargo bicycle around the residential areas soliciting customers, riding along while holding a megaphone and shouting: “Get your liquefied gas cylinders exchanged!” When he heard someone on a balcony above calling out, he would climb upstairs to take down the liquefied gas cylinder, earning only a meager ten or twenty yuan of hard-won money per day.

At the start, Xiao Man’s voice went hoarse after shouting for a whole day before he realized that those who had spent years walking the streets selling cotton fluffing and collecting scrap had practiced their iron-throated shouts over many years. Xia Lei put his mind to work and offered Xiao Man an idea: get a speaker, play one song on repeat, and train the people of Xi Tie Cheng to develop a conditioned reflex.

Xiao Man took Xia Lei’s advice and found an old, raspy speaker at the secondhand market. When he next rode his three-wheeled bicycle through the streets and neighborhoods, he turned the speaker to full volume and blasted out Zhang Xueyou’s passionate singing: “She extinguishes the night light, quietly veiling both shoulders, an interweaving of sparks, imprisoned in the settling depths…” The high-powered speaker unleashed the magic sound waves of “Hungry Wolf Legend,” compelling the residents of Xi Tie Cheng to associate the wolf-howling singing with the need to exchange their liquefied gas cylinders — just as “Orchid Grass” represented the water-sprinkling truck, and “The Full Moon” represented the garbage truck.

The children in the residential compound had keen ears: the moment they heard “Hungry Wolf Legend” drifting past below, they would get a conditioned-reflex twitch in their legs and ask their parents: “The wolf’s here again, the wolf’s here again! Are we exchanging the gas cylinder?”

There were also passersby who walked along behind the three-wheeled bicycle, swaying their heads. Xiao Man turned around and asked why they were following him. The passersby said: nothing, nothing — just wanted to hear this wolf-howling song to the end.

At first, Xiao Man was only responsible for going to restaurants and the residential compounds to collect cylinders, which he then transported to the exchange point’s warehouse for storage. The next step — transporting from the warehouse to the gas station for refilling — was handled directly by Boss Zhao and his nephew Feng Xiaobo, and outsiders were never allowed to be involved.

Boss Zhao was one of the first generation of private business owners in Xi Tie Cheng, driving a red Santana. He reportedly also had two other exchange points in the city proper, and the one presiding at the city’s main location was said to be Boss Zhao’s kept woman, also known in Northeastern dialect as his “iron buddy.” The Santana and the kept woman were the standard accessories of the first generation of newly rich business owners. Everyone called Boss Zhao’s kept woman the proprietress. Xiao Man asked: isn’t it only a boss’s wife who is called the proprietress? Everyone said: any woman who has borne the boss a child gets called the proprietress.

Once, when Xiao Man went into the city to deliver payment receipts, he recognized that the boss’s kept woman was the female business owner who had run the cassette tape shop in the Xi Tie Cheng market back in the day. At the sight of her, Xiao Man’s face flushed red all at once. This so-called proprietress still wore her face plastered with white powder just as before, and she could no longer recognize that the young man standing before her at nearly six feet tall was the same boy who had once bought a Zhang Yusheng cassette tape.

Xiao Man’s piece-rate wages were settled weekly, calculated and disbursed by the so-called proprietress. Once, she handed Xiao Man a fifty-yuan counterfeit banknote in his wages. Xiao Man argued with her about it, but she flatly refused to admit it, insisting with absolute certainty: “The money I have was withdrawn from a bank — think more carefully about it yourself!” Xiao Man took the loss without being able to speak of it, and in his anger said nothing. He tore the counterfeit note to pieces right in front of her and scattered the shreds across the floor.

Later, the proprietress told Boss Zhao about the incident: “That new boy Xiao Man is an idiot. He tore up his own money — it’s one thing to get angry at me, but getting angry at money too?”

“He’s still a student — single-minded,” Boss Zhao said with a laugh upon hearing this.

“Test you on this: if you had a counterfeit note in your hands, how would you get rid of it?” the proprietress plopped herself into Boss Zhao’s lap and asked him.

“Simple as anything — spend it at the night market,” Boss Zhao said, his hand lifting her skirt and reaching inside. “The old women at the night market selling boiled corn are half-blind. They can’t tell real money from fake.”

The exchange point shop had a concealed storage room that only the proprietress and Boss Zhao’s nephew Feng Xiaobo had keys to enter — no one else was allowed inside. Xiao Man gradually discovered that the secret of Boss Zhao’s moneymaking was inside that room.

According to gas station regulations, the standard for a full refill was 61.5 catties — a total weight including both the gas and the cylinder itself. While no one dared to fake the cylinder body, there were those who dared to tamper with it. The common method was to purchase a batch of standard cylinders, then grind the handles and bases thinner, or use chemical reagents to corrode them thin, and finally repaint them with anti-corrosion paint to pass them off as standard cylinders. After this slimming treatment, a normal cylinder could be reduced by three to five catties.

In the ordinary course of things, Boss Zhao and Feng Xiaobo used these slimmed-down cylinders to get full refills at the gas station, then brought them back to the storage room and transferred the gas into the normal cylinders that Xiao Man and the others had collected. This illegal operation was known in the trade as “passing gas.”

The method of “passing gas” was simple: first place the slimmed-down cylinder upside down in a high position, then put a normal cylinder in a low position below it, then connect the two cylinders with a high-pressure-resistant rubber hose. This way, for every normal cylinder filled, the slimmed-down cylinder would have three to five catties of residual gas left over. Sometimes, to speed up the “passing gas” process, Boss Zhao’s nephew Feng Xiaobo would also spray boiling water onto the slimmed-down cylinders.

Even more audacious was that Boss Zhao had secretly bribed a weigh-station worker at the state-owned gas station. This worker had a specially ground-down scale weight, and when this particular worker was on duty, Boss Zhao’s truck would bring all the slimmed-down cylinders over. The bribed worker would produce the ground-down scale weight for weighing — so the nominal 61.5 catties actually contained an additional three to five catties of gas on top.

The profit Boss Zhao earned was nominally called the hard-work fee, but in reality, it was digging into the corners of the state-owned gas station. Overfilling the gas combined with reduced pressure-bearing capacity: this was equivalent to blowing up a bubble of chewing gum with a bicycle pump. The two most dangerous aspects of high-pressure gas cylinders — Boss Zhao’s operation had them both covered. After all these manipulations, the private exchange point’s profit margin could reach 25%. “Everyone digs at the state’s corners — not digging would make you the real fool,” Boss Zhao had once let slip during a moment of drunken indiscretion.

When Xiao Man had gradually worked out this secret, Boss Zhao and the proprietress decided to offer Xiao Man a small favor to buy his silence. The next time wages were paid, the proprietress counted out an extra hundred yuan for Xiao Man.

“That fifty-yuan counterfeit last time — I may have made an error without paying attention,” the proprietress explained with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I have too many things on my mind. Xiao Man, don’t really take it to heart.”

“Last time was indeed your error! I had just that one fifty-yuan note in my pocket — I’m poor, and large bills are few and far between. I remember it clearly,” Xiao Man said, taking five ten-yuan notes from his trouser pocket and handing them to the proprietress. “Here is the change for your fifty.”

“No need for change!” The proprietress grabbed Xiao Man’s hand as a show of closeness. “This extra fifty is a bonus from Boss Zhao. He says you’re at a growing age and should eat more meat.”

Xiao Man stared at the proprietress with suspicion and withdrew his hand. He didn’t quite believe the sun had risen from the west.

“None of us have it easy,” the proprietress grabbed Xiao Man’s hand again, tapping his palm with her finger. “Boss Zhao is also seeking riches through risk. Let’s have mutual understanding!”

Over the winter holiday, Xiao Man’s early mornings and late nights earned him more than three hundred yuan, bringing him ever closer to his goal of saving up for the Walkman — yet he was still in low spirits.

Xiao Man was worried that one of those slimmed-down cylinders might explode someday, and might even take out the entire gas station! Xi Tie Cheng’s factory-born children had been raised from a young age steeped in “safe production” education. Among their relatives, there were those who had died as martyrs in past explosion accidents. In the face of an explosion, concrete becomes powder, steel rebar becomes noodles — how much more so flesh and blood.

Back at school after the holiday began, Xiao Man shared his concerns with Xiao Dan and Xia Lei. Xiao Dan was the first to become indignant: “We cannot be a silent majority! How about we write a letter and report it?”

But Xia Lei was steady-headed. He thought it over and said: “No need to rush. Let’s go ask Teacher Tong’s opinion first.”

So the three of them went to the staff office to find Teacher Tong and recounted the exchange point’s secrets from start to finish. Teacher Tong listened to the whole account and sighed: “Society is in a transition period right now. There are too many loopholes, and all merchants have their underhanded ways. The teacher will report this safety hazard upward through proper organizational channels.”

“Excellent! Justice will prevail!” Xia Lei and Xiao Man high-fived each other.

“Although you’ve done the right thing, don’t speak of this matter to others,” Teacher Tong cautioned them finally. “Society is still quite complicated, and not everyone is as good-natured as you are. You need to first learn to protect yourselves.”

Within a few days, Boss Zhao’s gas exchange point was subjected to an unannounced inspection.

This was a joint enforcement action: the quality supervision bureau and the industrial and commercial bureau arrived in a large truck and seized all the secretly stashed slimmed-down cylinders from the shop and took them away. The nearby residents who gathered to watch all marveled: Boss Zhao was playing with explosives in his own bedroom — he should be sent to serve ten years in prison!

Boss Zhao was as frantic as an ant on a hot wok, his eyes bulging like a frog out of water. He privately went to ask an inspector he had connections with: “Mine is just a small shower of rain — how come you don’t go and deal with Xi Tie Cheng’s raw materials suppliers? When they deliver a truckload of oil, half of it is water; when they deliver a truckload of steel, half of it is rust!”

“Xi Tie Cheng is an independent system. It’s not under our jurisdiction. You’d better manage yourself properly!” the inspector said impatiently. “I hate your kind most of all — making no progress but always trying to implicate others. There’s no one who’d bail you out even if you were locked up!”

Boss Zhao hurriedly sent the proprietress running to the bank, where she withdrew several tens of thousands in cash, wrapped them in brown paper, and tried to stuff them into the inspector’s briefcase. The inspector waved her away: “No, no, no. I truly cannot help you this time.”

Boss Zhao played his final card, turning angry: “What about before? Did I ever treat you badly before?”

The inspector also turned and refused to acknowledge it: “What before? What was before? Don’t you know you’re about to face a great disaster? Keep your mouth shut and get your legs moving! Am I not being clear enough?”

Upon hearing this, Boss Zhao crumpled and collapsed to the floor with a “thud.” He knew this time it wouldn’t be resolved with a simple fine — there was a genuine possibility he’d be looking at several years behind bars. The next day, Boss Zhao, his kept woman, and the red Santana all vanished together from Xi Tie Cheng, fleeing without a trace.

In April, another year brought forsythia blossoms turning yellow, followed by continuous spring rain.

There was one week left until the May Day holiday. Teacher Tong discussed with the whole class: “There are still two months until the college exam, and after that everyone will be going their separate ways. How about we take advantage of the last class meeting before May Day and do some activities?”

“Long live Teacher Tong!” the whole class cheered together. “The spring scenery is beautiful — let’s go for an outing!”

“An outing won’t do — a whole day would be too wasteful. My idea is for the whole class to get together for a meal and make dumplings together ourselves,” Teacher Tong said.

“Wonderful! Long live Teacher Tong, long live, long live!” The students pounded their desks wildly.

Teacher Tong couldn’t help smiling and immediately began planning: “Then we’ll divide the whole class into six groups. Everyone should bring a few rolling pins and cleavers on the day. And — which students would like to go buy the groceries?”

“Of course, me! I’m an expert at buying groceries!” Xiao Man, as if injected with something stimulating, volunteered enthusiastically and jumped up to raise his hand.

“I’ll go too!” Xia Lei in the first row also raised his hand.

“Xia Lei, you needn’t go — don’t interrupt your studies,” Teacher Tong pressed Xia Lei’s raised hand back down. “In that case: Xiao Bai and Wang Dongdong, on that afternoon’s self-study period you two won’t have to sit there dozing. Go help Xiao Man buy groceries!”

“Great!” Wang Dongdong and Xiao Bai answered in unison — as long as they weren’t locked in the classroom, they’d be happy to go haul heavy loads at the train station.

The day before the May Day holiday, each group in the class had brought along their cleavers and rolling pins. In the afternoon, Xiao Man led Wang Dongdong and Xiao Bai to the Lunan Market to buy meat, vegetables, and flour. After school, the students hung colorful paper streamers on the fluorescent light tubes in the classroom, then pushed the desks together into six group tables and began enthusiastically and noisily chopping filling and rolling dough.

Principal Hou and Lao Cai also came to join in the fun. Lao Cai — who had once been a rebel faction member — rolled up his sleeves and rolled out dough wrappers, all the while not forgetting to chatter away: “Wherever there are people, there are left, center, and right factions. Everyone should align with progress. This year, we must have more students getting into university!”

“What era are we in — where is there still a left, center, and right?” Principal Hou, who was chopping filling, corrected him immediately. “Now it’s upper, middle, and lower! Everyone should head for the cities, head for the sea — don’t count on Xi Tie Cheng’s factory to support you for the rest of your lives!”

The students all felt Principal Hou was being alarmist, and laughed it off without taking it seriously.

Xiao Man saw Xiao Dan standing there helplessly not knowing how to wrap dumplings, and went over to ask: “Doesn’t your family eat dumplings at New Year’s?”

“My family eats hotpot and glutinous rice balls for New Year’s,” Xiao Dan said.

“Poor Southerners! Nothing is more comfortable than lying down, nothing tastes better than dumplings — let me teach you!” Xiao Man grabbed Xiao Dan’s hands and guided her through filling the dumpling. “Remember: whatever the filling, the water content must be squeezed dry. That way the dumpling will be flavorful!”

While Xiao Man was explaining, Xia Lei beside them deliberately nudged him toward Xiao Dan. Xiao Man’s nose drew closer and closer to Xiao Dan’s hair, until if he bowed his head even slightly he could smell the lemon shampoo scent.

Lao Cai, having finished rolling a few dough wrappers and having nothing to do, came to stand behind Xiao Man. Seeing that Xiao Man was wrapping well, he gave Xiao Man’s shoulder an appreciative pat. Xiao Man, thinking it was still Xia Lei up to mischief, raised his backside and pushed back — and unexpectedly bumped into Lao Cai. What he even more unexpectedly did was knock a cleaver off the edge of the table, which fell directly onto Lao Cai’s shoe.

“Ah!” Lao Cai cried out loudly, his body lurching backward, and he sat down on the floor. Students rushed from all sides to help him up. Looking down, they saw that the cleaver had sliced a large gash through the toe of his shoe. Lao Cai broke out in a cold sweat of lingering fear: “Lucky it’s not summer with sandals on — otherwise I’d have had to go to the hospital to have my toes reattached.”

Very soon the whole class had wrapped five hundred boiled-dough dumplings. A few male students carried the steamer trays to the boiler room to have them steamed. The rest in the classroom busied themselves mincing garlic, setting out bowls and chopsticks, and mixing sesame oil and aged vinegar. Every time a student came in carrying a steamer tray of cooked dumplings, the classroom erupted in a burst of applause.

All the boys who had gone to fetch the steamer trays had returned — only Xiao Man had not yet appeared.

Boss Zhao had fled, but Feng Xiaobo had not. He had guessed that Xiao Man was the most likely person to have reported them. That evening, he led a gang of young ruffians and forced their way into the workers’ children’s school, finding Xiao Man in the boiler room.

Xiao Man was walking out carrying the last steamer tray of dumplings for the whole class when Feng Xiaobo came up and kicked the tray flying with one foot. Xiao Man’s heart ached for the dumplings scattered all over the floor. He turned and ran toward the teaching building, looking back reluctantly as he went — and was quickly caught up with and surrounded by the young ruffians. “You dare to cut off my uncle’s livelihood — I’ll cut off yours!” Feng Xiaobo came up and delivered a slap. Very quickly, Xiao Man was beaten flat on the ground in the schoolyard, curled up in the shape of a seahorse with his head in his arms, trying several times to get up only to be kicked back down each time.

Fortunately, a student in the classroom spotted through the window that Xiao Man was being beaten and immediately rallied loudly: “Xiao Man is being beaten! Everyone grab a weapon!”

More than twenty male students in the class heard this, immediately put down their bowls and chopsticks, seized their rolling pins and cleavers, and charged downstairs. Xia Lei, gripping a cleaver, ran in the lead. The moment he ran downstairs he was intercepted head-on by the physical education teacher. The teacher seized the cleaver and handed him a javelin instead: “Don’t use the blade — use the javelin. Swing it and fight!”

A few years prior, some young ruffians had come to the school to harass female students, and were beaten from all sides by dozens of male students from the upper years in a chaotic melee. Before everyone had even gotten in a single blow, the hapless ruffians had breathed their last. In such gang brawls, it is difficult to hold anyone accountable — no one can say whose punch exactly took a life, or rather, each of the dozens of punches had pushed the ruffians one step further down the road to the underworld. Principal Hou told the police officers who came to investigate: look, what do we do about this? There are dozens of male students who are all suspects. How about I give you the key to the principal’s office and you just turn the middle school into a detention center right now?

This time again, dozens of hormone-fueled male students charged downstairs, waving cleavers and rolling pins as they rushed toward the schoolyard. Feng Xiaobo’s gang was struck with great fear and immediately scattered in all directions. Feng Xiaobo ran in blind panic, took a stumble, got up to find he had knocked out half a front tooth, ran a few more steps, and was then struck on the ankle by a hard lump of coal thrown from behind. He had no choice but to cover his chipped tooth and flee limping over the wall, his manner like a marionette with cut strings.

The young ruffians dispersed without a fight, and the young warriors of Class Two, Year Three were greatly disappointed. Xia Lei gripped the javelin in one hand and pulled Xiao Man up from the ground with the other. Xiao Man’s face was covered in fresh blood. He wiped his face carelessly with his hand, looking like a tipsy Guan Yu.

“Hey! Did even you, the old scholar, take to the battlefield?” Seeing the javelin in Xia Lei’s hands, Xiao Man asked.

“I didn’t even get to swing it before they all ran — those bastards got off easy,” Xia Lei muttered angrily.

“Don’t, don’t!” Xiao Man brushed the dust off himself, grinning despite his injuries. “Don’t get mixed up in this mess — hurry back to the classroom. The college exam is what matters most!”

After the May Day holiday, in the last practice exam, Xia Lei surged to the top of the rankings with a score fifty points higher than the runner-up. This good news made Xia Lei’s mother walk with a more upright posture than ever, like a walking precision steel caliper in motion. Everyone said the withdrawal time for the “spiritual millionaire” was nearly at hand.

One day, Xia Lei’s mother was selecting vegetables at the Lunan Market when she didn’t hear someone calling her from behind. A vegetable vendor tipped her off: “Teacher Gu over there is calling you!”

Teacher Gu — known as Gu A-La — was the mathematics teacher at the workers’ children’s school and also a well-known figure at the Xi Tie Cheng market. He bought green beans not by the catty but by the individual pod; when buying scallions, he would peel away the outer skin until only a bare stalk remained before putting it on the scale. In the past, whenever he appeared at the market, the vegetable vendors would turn their heads away from him and say he was not of this earth. But unexpectedly, the year of the great flood, Gu A-La actually donated three thousand yuan in cash, and after that no one spoke of him as miserly anymore. The vendors would even voluntarily peel back the scallion skin for him.

“The logistical support for the college exam is very important!” Teacher Gu, carrying his vegetable basket, greeted Xia Lei’s mother. “Your Xia Lei should eat more vegetables and less pasta. Pasta makes you drowsy in the afternoon.”

“Xia Lei’s math scores in this practice exam were really excellent. Meeting a good teacher like you is a blessing for our whole family!” Xia Lei’s mother said quickly.

“Not at all — a teacher’s greatest joy is seeing students succeed!” Gu A-La said, picking through vegetables. “By the way, have you and the child’s father thought about which programs to apply for? My recommendation is to aim for Shanghai.”

“Well… we’re a workers’ family without much experience in these things. We’d still need you, Teacher Gu, to give us more guidance.”

“Apply for Shanghai — not because I’m Shanghainese, but because Shanghai has potential,” Teacher Gu said, picking up a potato and examining it carefully. “The energy released after the development of Pudong in Shanghai won’t be exhausted for twenty or thirty years. If Xia Lei goes to Shanghai, he’ll be catching a wonderful opportunity.”

“Shanghai… isn’t it a bit far?”

“Not far at all — times have changed. The peacock must fly southeast,” Teacher Gu said with certainty. “Xia Lei has a somewhat stubborn streak in his character — sitting in a government office might not make him adept at being all things to all people. He’s suited for development in academia. The treatment at Shanghai’s universities is quite good, and there are many international exchange opportunities.”

Xia Lei’s mother nodded gratefully again and again. Teachers like Teacher Gu at the factory’s children’s school held their first identity as factory workers, with their role as school teachers coming second. The older teachers had even taught two generations of the same families, and the advice they gave was unreserved and entirely for the sake of the children’s futures.

Teacher Gu picked out five small scallions and two potatoes, walked out of the market together with Xia Lei’s mother, and said as they walked: “You do the logistical support as a parent, I’ll handle the launching as a teacher. When I get back, I’ll suggest to Teacher Tong that for the last month, Xia Lei should be given the special front-row seat in the classroom!”

After this meeting in the market, Xia Lei was indeed moved to the special seat, positioned even closer to the lectern than the first row. Teacher Tong said this was the pre-designated launch pad for the satellite — the goal this year was to launch a major satellite with Xia Lei and get him into a nationally renowned university.

It was only a matter of days in the special seat before Xia Lei was already crying out silently — this position was more like being in a sitz bath than anything else. Every day he had to tilt his head back to receive an unending rain of saliva from each subject teacher. First the math teacher Gu A-La would shower him from above in the first class period, then the Chinese teacher Dai would come in for a second shower in the second class period. Come the main break, Xia Lei would dash to the washroom to rinse his face. Sometimes a subject teacher, uncertain of the solution to a problem, would stoop forward on the lectern to consult Xia Lei’s opinion. At such moments, a flash of displeasure would cross the face of Meng Ge, the second-place scorer in the practice exams. As the daughter of the deputy factory director, she had always been confident in her superior genetic heritage, yet after several practice exams she still couldn’t surpass Xia Lei, who came from a workers’ family.

Xia Lei was simply an inexhaustible study machine. Every gear on the machine meshed tightly at every moment, pulverizing and compressing every knowledge point, transmitting and storing them in the grooves of his brain. It was Xiao Man who, with nothing to do, quietly finished all of Xia Lei’s duty-day chores for him. Meng Ge asked Xiao Man, not without envy: are you not just Xia Lei’s chief eunuch steward? Xiao Man smiled back: Imperial Nanny, if you have errands for me too, just give the order!

Among the dozen or so university-bound hopefuls in the third year, there were two or three couples involved in early romance. As the college exam drew near, the subject teachers actually stopped trying to obstruct these Romeos and Juliets, simply pretending not to see, neither noting nor asking. Sometimes when these young couples quarreled and threatened to break up, the teachers would personally come to mediate: “The exam is almost here — don’t break up! Stay together, and maybe you’ll get into university together — isn’t that wonderful?” Only then did the whole class suddenly understand that what the teachers feared was not the early romance itself, nor even the break-up — it was the distraction.

Xiao Man also didn’t dare to disrupt Xiao Dan’s studies. He only walked her home after the evening self-study session every night, and when they reached the entrance of her building, the two of them were reluctant to part and simply hooked fingers briefly. Director Yan watched it all clearly from the balcony above, and sometimes pretended to cough a few times — at which the two of them instantly sprang apart like startled birds. When Xiao Dan came back inside, Director Yan asked nothing more. Both parents and teachers understood in their hearts: if passionate love is a force-eight gale, then a broken heart is a force-twelve typhoon.

Xia Lei had none of the torments of lovesickness. He was more like an ascetic monk born for the college exam. Every evening after the self-study session, he would first eat a bowl of poached egg noodles when he got home, then start reading by lamplight late into the night. When his eyes blurred with exhaustion, he would notice what appeared to be a strand of hair on the exam paper that wouldn’t brush away no matter how he tried — staring hard, he’d realize it was actually a parabola on a math problem.

In the deep reaches of the night, only Xia Lei’s room in the first residential compound was still alight, the desk lamp casting his silhouette onto the pale blue bamboo-patterned curtains, his head cast in a massive shadow. The factory workers coming off the night shift all knew: beneath that desk lamp, a university seedling was making his final all-out effort.

That night at eleven, Xia Lei was bent over his desk working on problems in his room when he faintly heard a “tap-tap” sound against the window glass. At first he thought it was raindrops, but when he pulled back the curtain, he saw Xiao Man standing on the heating pipe outside the window. The sound was Xiao Man tapping with his fingernail — he was worried about waking Xia Lei’s parents.

“Are your auntie and uncle asleep?” Xiao Man asked.

“Both asleep,” Xia Lei opened the screen window. “Want to climb in?”

“No need to come inside. The moon is nice tonight — how about we go for a stroll?” Xiao Man asked.

“Alright.” Xia Lei switched off the desk lamp, climbed out through the window onto the heating pipe, and together with Xiao Man slid down the iron frame to the ground.

The Xi Tie Cheng near midnight was utterly still, with only a bright moon and sparse stars. The two of them walked along the road, chatting as they went.

“Why aren’t you sleeping at this hour of night? Did you sleep too much in class during the day?” Xia Lei asked Xiao Man.

“I often just wander around when I can’t sleep at night,” Xiao Man said. “During the day, the loud and bustling Xi Tie Cheng belongs to everyone. At night, the quiet Xi Tie Cheng belongs to me alone.”

“Living alone really is freedom — sleep when you feel like it, and walk out the door whenever you want!” Xia Lei sighed with envy.

“Sometimes I climb up the maintenance ladder next to Xiao Dan’s building — it’s a way of secretly keeping her company. Even if I can’t see her, just hearing her voice is nice,” Xiao Man said, a little self-consciously.

“Xiao Man, have you lost your mind? That ladder has been padlocked for ages! Climbing it in pitch darkness — aren’t you afraid of missing a step?” Xia Lei was startled.

“I was too crazy about it, honestly — the ladder really is all rusted over,” Xiao Man admitted.

“Alright, be honest — you didn’t come find me in the middle of the night just to wander around, did you?” Xia Lei sensed that Xiao Man must have run into some problem.

“Something depressing happened. I wanted to talk to you about it,” Xiao Man sighed. “Tonight on the maintenance ladder by Xiao Dan’s building, I overheard her parents talking. They said that after the exam is over, the whole family is moving to Suzhou. Her father’s counterpart work unit has already been arranged — the transfer order is nearly ready, just waiting for Xiao Dan to finish the college exam.”

“That’s because Jiangsu’s enrollment cutoff scores are too high. It’s much easier to sit the exam here in our province,” Xia Lei analyzed.

“Once that happens, I’ll probably have to break up with Xiao Dan. The things Director Yan said to me — he was just stringing me along,” Xiao Man couldn’t conceal the sorrow in his heart. “Thinking about how you’ll be leaving for a university in another city and Xiao Dan will be moving to Suzhou, leaving just me here alone in Xi Tie Cheng — that makes me feel terrible.”

“Don’t look at things so pessimistically. These iron rice bowls aren’t worth much anymore, either. In the future you could go find work in Suzhou, and after I graduate I’ll be working in Shanghai. The three of us could still meet often,” Xia Lei reassured him.

“Once scattered, it’s hard to come back together,” Xiao Man pressed his fingertips against his moist eyes. “And who knows what things will look like when we do meet again.”

After the Start of Summer, the rains grew denser. In Xi Tie Cheng, overcast days outnumbered sunny ones.

One evening during the self-study session, the duty teacher Dai walked to the last row, spotted a guitar hanging from Xiao Man’s chair, and asked: “What are you planning to do? Hold a concert in the classroom?”

Xiao Man was in the middle of copying musical notation, and looked up to give Teacher Dai a smile: “I just replaced the guitar strings and haven’t had time to take the guitar home yet.”

Teacher Dai picked up Xiao Man’s sheet music and flipped through it, sighing: “Perhaps you are a seedling suited for the arts. What a pity that our school is in a mountain valley — we can’t cultivate art students.”

When the evening self-study session was over and the bell rang, the whole class filed out until only Xiao Dan and Xiao Man were left in the classroom. Xiao Dan, always perceptive, asked with a smile: “Did you really go to get guitar strings repaired?”

“Alright, I can’t keep it from you. I just finished practicing a song and wanted to sing it for you.”

“Wonderful — once you’ve sung it, we’ll leave. I’ll sleep a beautiful dream tonight.”

The two of them held hands and walked to the deep end of the corridor, where the echo was most resonant and flowing.

“Darling, close your eyes and listen carefully,” Xiao Man plucked the strings and sang softly: “Treading lightly in the moonlight, as if walking into the depths of your thoughts. After that year’s sorrowful farewell, there was no one left to share a drink with me. Petals fall light as mist, but what can be done against the rising wind — in the end, like smoke, all drifts and scatters to the east and west…”

When the last note faded, lingering resonance hung in the empty corridor.

“That’s Tan Yongling’s ‘Night Without End,’ isn’t it?” Xiao Dan opened her eyes and asked. “The lyrics are a little sad — Xiao Man, what’s the matter?”

Xiao Man pretended not to hear. He picked up the guitar case and packed away the guitar, then led Xiao Dan out of the teaching building. Outside, a fine rain had already begun to fall. Xiao Man took off his outer jacket and draped it over Xiao Dan, leaving himself to get soaked until his hair dripped.

When they reached the streetlamp below Xiao Dan’s building and stopped, Xiao Dan gazed at Xiao Man’s wet profile and asked once more: “Why did you want to sing me that song tonight? Tell me the truth.”

Xiao Man was turning over in his mind how to answer, when a shout rang out from behind: “That’s the little bastard — crack his head open tonight!” Several glowing cigarette ends moved out of the darkness and into the lamplight — it was Feng Xiaobo and a gang of ruffians.

“What a nice guitar too — Xiao Man, I really don’t want to have to beat you,” Feng Xiaobo stubbed out his cigarette, walking forward while clapping his hands.

“Feng Xiaobo — come and find me tomorrow if you’ve got the guts!” Xiao Man shielded Xiao Dan behind his back.

“What — scared now? With your girlfriend here, don’t you want to play the tough guy?” Feng Xiaobo asked.

“Darling — go home now. Be good!” Xiao Man gave Xiao Dan a sudden hard push away from him. Then he unhooked his guitar and set down his schoolbag, and walked toward Feng Xiaobo. “Feng Xiaobo — just the two of us, one-on-one!”

“Dream on!” Feng Xiaobo waved his hand, and several ruffians rushed in, raining punches on Xiao Man. Xiao Man gradually could no longer hold his own and was beaten to the ground again.

“You don’t dare fight one-on-one! You coward! You’re a spineless coward!” Xiao Man shouted from the ground.

Feng Xiaobo separated the others and stepped forward, planting his shoe sole on Xiao Man’s head: “Last time you got off easy. Screw you — this time I’m not letting you go…” Just as he was cursing, something struck him on the top of his head. Feng Xiaobo turned around to find that Xiao Dan had landed a hit from behind with a brick.

Xiao Dan dropped the brick and ran. She hadn’t gotten five or six steps before Feng Xiaobo caught up with her.

“You little wretch!” Feng Xiaobo grabbed Xiao Dan by the hair and dragged her back. “You delivered yourself right to me — I won’t stand on ceremony then.”

“Feng Xiaobo! Let go of her! I’ll settle things with you!” Xiao Man shouted from where he lay on the ground, reaching his hand into his trouser pocket.

“Hurts now, does it? Then let your girlfriend have a taste of real pain today!” Feng Xiaobo said, lifting Xiao Dan’s skirt and groping beneath it.

“AHHHH—” Xiao Man let out a heart-rending scream, rolled up from the ground, and in one bound leapt in front of Feng Xiaobo, his right hand raised up suddenly.

Before Feng Xiaobo could see what the silver-flashing object in Xiao Man’s hand was, he felt a sharp burst of pain in his chest. Xiao Man had driven a switchblade into his sternum. After the campus melee, Xiao Man had quietly kept a switchblade on his person.

Feng Xiaobo let out a horrible scream and looked down to see Xiao Man slowly rotating the knife handle. He was seized with sheer terror — this was a technique for bleeding a person out! He looked up at Xiao Man’s face: in the rain, Xiao Man’s facial muscles were contorted, and he ground his teeth as he said with savage intensity: “I’ll send you to your death!”

Feng Xiaobo collapsed to the ground on the spot. The young ruffians didn’t dare pull the knife out of him and sent him to the hospital with the knife still embedded. Fortunately, the blade had not struck the major blood vessels at the hilum of the lung — the diagnosis was unilateral pneumothorax with lung collapse.

It happened on an early summer day in the northeast, one week before Xiao Man’s eighteenth birthday. Director Yan negotiated repeatedly on behalf of the factory with the local judicial authorities, and the case was concluded as excessive self-defense. In June, Xiao Man was sent to the juvenile offenders’ correctional facility — the lightest possible sentence that Director Yan had fought hard to secure.