China DOS Union

Xiaowei asked Liuzi, “Yesterday I heard you went to my house looking for me. Was it something?” After a pause, he said, “You little punk didn’t go to class again yesterday?”

“Brother Xiaowei, I’m not going anymore. Our principal is a damn idiot...” Before he could finish, Liuzi took a hard rap on the head from Xiaowei. “Does your dad know? If he knows and still doesn’t beat you to death, I’d be surprised!” Xiaowei’s family and Liuzi’s family were neighbors, very close. Liji was Xiaowei’s best buddy. He didn’t talk much. He walked over and kicked the guy next to me: “Go buy me a pack of cigarettes. I’ll play for a while.” I didn’t feel like playing anyway, so I said to Liji, “I’ll go buy them. You take my place.” I got up and walked toward the cigarette stand nearby, and heard Xiaowei say behind me, “This another one of your little brothers? Never seen him before. Where’s he from? Bring him over to my place sometime.”

Before Liuzi could answer, two yellow minibuses screeched to a stop beside the group of people playing cards. The doors flew open all at once, and more than ten people got out, about my age. A few of them had newspaper-wrapped bundles slung diagonally over their shoulders. They moved incredibly fast. Before the card players could react, they were already surrounded from every angle.

Liuzi’s face went a little pale green, and he looked around in panic.

By then I was already outside the circle. I saw one of the people from the van speak up: “Who’s Liuzi?”

I looked carefully at him. Big head, very yellow hair, short, lots of freckles on his face. I knew him—he had been in my class back in elementary school in the western suburbs. His nickname was “Big Head.” I had no idea why he was here today.

Liuzi didn’t dare say anything.

Big Head asked again: “Who’s called Xiaowei?”

Xiaowei didn’t answer. He slowly stood up and looked at him.

“Brother Wei, I’m...” As he spoke, he stretched out a hand, (I thought maybe he wanted to shake hands), and while Xiaowei was still hesitating, Big Head “stretched out” a foot instead—driving it hard into Xiaowei’s left ribs!

That sudden heavy blow left everyone too stunned to react. Everyone on our side froze in an instant. Xiaowei staggered backward several steps until he was right in front of me. The panic in his eyes flashed only once, then disappeared. Before he could even steady himself, two gleaming long knives chopped down onto his shoulder! So that was what had been inside those newspaper bundles—long knives! Xiaowei pitched backward, waving both hands to keep his balance. His right hand tore a long rip in my shirt, then with a clang he fell beside me. Then countless long knives and feet in leather shoes rained down on his body and face...

The few over there who had been playing cards had already been slashed apart and fled in all directions. Only Liuzi was left, surrounded by three people. One short guy grabbed Liuzi by the hair with one hand and yanked his head downward while kicking him in the face over and over. The other two kept kicking him all over. Bent double, both hands covering his face, Liuzi howled and screamed. Before long the short guy’s sneakers were covered in blood, and he got angry: “Fuck, I just bought these shoes today.” Then he kicked Liuzi onto the bench by the street.

Xiaowei didn’t make a sound. He just kept blocking the knives and the rain of fists and feet with his arms, trying to get back up. I wanted to help him up, but my arms and legs had gone weak and wouldn’t obey me. All I could do was tremble and shuffle one step forward.

Big Head noticed me moving and looked up at me warily. He hesitated slightly. I figured he probably recognized me too. “Got something to do with you?”

“No.”

“If not, then get the hell out of here. What the fuck are you staring at? Looking to die?”

All at once I got mad. Damn it, I hadn’t planned to help either side. Big Head pretending not to know me suited me fine. But a classmate from back then cursing me out like that? Back in the day, whose homework and exams hadn’t he copied from me?

So right then, while saying, “Yeah, yeah, I’m leaving now,” I looked around for something I could pass to Xiaowei as a weapon. But the place was bare—there wasn’t even a brick.

By then Big Head and the others had already stopped hitting Xiaowei, but the short guy’s side was still going. Liuzi had curled up under the bench and was wailing nonstop. It was one of those old-fashioned benches, made of several long wooden slats lined up side by side, painted dark green. Liuzi had balled himself up on the ground underneath it, shivering. There wasn’t much the others could do to him there.

Big Head put his knife away and said to Xiaowei: “We came for Liuzi today, but we heard Brother Wei, you were here too, so we figured we’d stop by and say hello. You’re so badass, I’ve wanted to come meet you for a long time. We’re all from the western suburbs. I just started running with people, I’m nowhere near your level. You don’t know me, Brother Wei. But if you want to find me, just ask around for Big Head!”

Xiaowei was covered in blood. His left arm looked almost broken, hanging limp, the flesh turned outward. The wound was about as wide as a child’s mouth, exposing a section of white bone. His shoulders and legs were covered in long gashes. Xiaowei wiped the blood off his face with his right hand and smiled a little. “Sure.”

Big Head waved his knife and walked toward Liuzi’s bench. Liuzi wasn’t getting hit at that moment, but suddenly his screaming grew even louder than before, trembling with fear.

“Liuzi, Yanzi from the western suburbs sent us. You know what this is about, right?”

Liuzi didn’t answer, just made muffled sobbing sounds.

“You little bastard, I’m talking to you?” Big Head asked several times and got impatient.

“That really wasn’t me!” Liuzi hurriedly stammered in self-defense.

“Fuck your mother, not you my ass!” The short guy suddenly snatched the long knife from Big Head’s hand and stabbed it viciously down into the gap in the bench. Liuzi’s blood splashed out at once, and several more knives stabbed down right after it.

At that moment I was beside Xiaowei. When he saw Liuzi being stabbed, the corner of his eye twitched, and he turned to look at me. I think I understood what he meant... Suddenly I touched my keychain—it was an iron chain, one centimeter wide and half a meter long. I just didn’t know whether it was sturdy enough. There was no time to think. I quietly tossed him this only metal object I had, the only thing that could barely count as a weapon.

By then most people were near the bench. Xiaowei suddenly darted over like a swift wildcat, even though his left arm was still hanging and swinging. (Today I really saw what an old-school hardcase looks like!)

There was a stone base on the right, raised above the ground. Xiaowei stepped onto it first, used it for leverage, and launched himself into the air at the short guy in the middle of the crowd.

Originally I thought Xiaowei would definitely swing the chain in a full arc and lash out with it, but I never expected him to throw his whole body at the guy. I sighed inwardly. That’s such a loss, isn’t it just like fighting barehanded then?

By the time the short guy noticed, Xiaowei was already on top of him. Nobody saw clearly what happened. They just saw Xiaowei pin him underneath, and then the short guy let out a scream. I still remember that scream to this day—very low, full of despair.

The people around them pulled Xiaowei off and slammed him hard to the ground. Then the short guy staggered back up, dropped to his knees on the ground, and there in his left eye socket was the key to my family’s security door.

Everyone was dumbfounded, including both sides and even myself. I never in my wildest dreams imagined Xiaowei would use my “key” like that. I just stood there blankly, looking at my keychain swinging back and forth from the short guy’s face, my mind completely empty.

No one on either side said a word. The only sounds echoing were the short guy’s low moans and Liuzi’s crying under the bench, not even knowing what had happened.

Some of the other side were so scared they were slowly crouching down as they backed away. Everyone’s eyes kept shifting between Xiaowei and the short guy. Two people grabbed the short guy by his shirt and dragged him backward. As they moved, the key slipped free from the wound. Blood ran like a little stream. The wound was a mangled blur of blood and flesh—it was impossible to tell exactly what it looked like. With a clatter, the whole ring of keys dropped onto the concrete. The short guy howled in pain and viciously slapped the person dragging him, while cursing in Xiaowei’s direction: “You little bastard, fuck your mother, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Get him into the van!” Big Head forced himself to stay calm, keeping his voice steady. Then he picked up the knife and walked toward Xiaowei...

“Liuzi, run! The local cops are coming!” In a flash of inspiration, I rushed over, yanked Liuzi out from under the bench, and dragged him running in the opposite direction. Liuzi had been stabbed three times, all in the back. A huge patch of his T-shirt was soaked through with blood.

It was dusk then, evening dropping fast. A group of people were rushing over from not far away, too far to see clearly who they were. Maybe Big Head really thought the police were coming, or maybe even if he didn’t believe me, he didn’t want to drag this out any longer. Knife in hand, he ran to the driver’s seat of one van. The others scrambled aboard too.

Liuzi and I ran several dozen meters. When we looked back and saw the other side was already fleeing, we stopped. Liuzi sat down right where he was, panting heavily. There was a wheezing sound in his breathing. Maybe his lung had been injured. By then the group running over from afar had come close—it turned out Liji had brought a bunch of people charging over. Only then did I realize I hadn’t seen Liji the whole time.

The other side was frantically shoving onto the van. In the end, two people were left helping the short guy get in—one pulling from inside, one pushing from below. The short guy had just made it into the van, and the one below pushing him hadn’t gotten on yet, when Liji and his people rushed to the back of the vehicle. Bricks and wooden sticks smashed the rear windshield. Big Head had already started the engine and sped off in a cloud. That left only the pale-faced boy who had been helping the short guy into the van still standing there, looking in panic as more than ten people and more than ten knives closed in around him, so terrified he couldn’t make a sound.

The boy looked somewhat thin and weak, with a pair of big beautiful eyes like a girl’s, thick eyebrows, lips pressed tight, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. Wasn’t that—Ayuan!

Liji raised his watermelon knife high. Under the streetlight it flashed with a bright gleam. I was so shocked my hair practically stood on end, and I blurted out:

“Don’t, don’t...”

“Liji.” At the same time I heard Xiaowei’s voice. “He never made a move.”

Only then did Liji remember Xiaowei was still leaning against the wall. Liji lowered his knife, grabbed Ayuan by the hair, and the others grabbed his collar and arms, hauling and dragging him in front of Xiaowei. Xiaowei had already been helped onto the bench. I also helped Liuzi sit on the bench.

“You know him?” Liji’s gloomy knife-blade face slowly turned toward me. He pointed at Ayuan, tilted his head slightly, and looked at me with great interest.

“I know him.” The way he looked at me made my skin crawl, and I answered in a low voice.

Smack—a huge slap exploded against my right ear, followed by fiery pain and sharp ringing. Liji hit hard as hell.

I lowered my head to one side, looked away, and didn’t say a word.

“Hey, you, come here. What’s your name?” Xiaowei asked me from where he sat.

“Xiao Zhe.” As I answered, I walked over to him.

“You know that Big Head.” Xiaowei’s eyes suddenly became very bright. It wasn’t exactly murderous, but it still made me shiver. I had no idea how he could tell.

“I know him.” I had no choice but to tell the truth.

Liji kicked me in the stomach and I dropped onto the ground on my ass, cursing eighteen generations of his ancestors in my head.

“How did they know Xiaowei was here?” Liji asked.

“How the fuck would I know!” I was getting mad too. So they thought I was in on it with Big Head? If that was the case, I’d get beaten to death on the spot.

“All right, let’s go. We’d better move before we really bring the dogs over,” Xiaowei said. “I don’t think Liuzi’s doing too good. Hospital first.”

Then he said to me: “This buddy of yours never made a move today, so I won’t touch him either. In a bit, you and him go back first. Help me ask around why the western suburb crowd came today. I’ll come find you at school tomorrow. Thanks. You and Liuzi in the same class?”

I told Xiaowei what class I was in, while my heart pounded in secret: tomorrow is when I’m really dead. They all think I’m in league with the western suburb guys.

When I turned my head, I saw Liji smiling at me happily. That chilled me even more.

“Hey, what did you say your name was? Xiao Zhe, right!” Xiaowei said. “Liji, from now on Xiao Zhe is my little brother. Look after him some.”

Liji looked at Xiaowei in confusion. Xiaowei smiled. Liji turned back around, and the way he looked at me was still cold.

On the way home, I rode my bike with Ayuan on the back. The joy of seeing each other again after so long had been replaced by the lingering terror of what had just happened, and neither of us said much. By the time we got home it was already eight in the evening, and both of us were starving. My dad had gone to a construction site, so only my mom was home. The moment I went in I started shouting: “Mom, I’m starving! Look who’s here!”

“Every day this late, every day this late. All you know is basketball. Let’s see what rank you get at the end of term! Why don’t you dare act like this when your dad’s home?” Mom nagged as she brought a glass of water out from the kitchen. “Oh! Xiaoyuan. Why did you come today?”

My parents and Ayuan’s parents were all coworkers. Since we were little, my mom had liked Ayuan and his little sister a lot. I think maybe it was because she didn’t have a daughter herself. She really envied people who had both a son and a daughter.

Mom pulled Ayuan to the sofa to sit down and launched into a barrage of questions: “How are your dad and mom? What did you take to get here? What grade is your little sister in now? Have you eaten dinner? Is your family moving here next month? ... Hm? You came all the way to the southern suburbs this late to play—aren’t you going to school tomorrow?” As a teacher, my mom finally sharply spotted the problem.

“Uh, Auntie, it’s like this, tomorrow our teachers have a makeup day off for Teachers’ Day.” Ayuan, always smart and likable with adults, finally returned to normal (his many years of lying skills hadn’t faded). He answered the sensitive question and shifted the topic perfectly.

Sure enough, Mom’s thoughts went exactly where I expected: “See? Schools in the western suburbs really do treat teachers better. They even get a makeup day off for Teachers’ Day. Over here, we with graduating classes work overtime every day organizing review sessions. On Sunday I still have to go to Auntie Zhang’s place to get exam papers. Who has time to rest?” Auntie Zhang was my mom’s classmate, a teacher at one of the city’s key middle schools. My mom often went to get test materials from key schools to tutor her students.

“Exactly, it’s just unfair now. Our teachers were even given a whole bunch of things too! ...” Ayuan was starting to overdo it a little. I gave him a look, and only then did he stop.

“Mom, hurry up, we’re starving! Every day it’s either exams or your students.”

Before long the food was on the table. Ayuan and I wolfed it down, and every now and then looked at each other and grinned stupidly. Yeah—just making it back safely was already good enough.

Mom had already eaten and sat happily beside us watching us eat. She kept putting food into Ayuan’s bowl while criticizing me. My mom had a special talent: she could spot every strength in any classmate who came to our house, then compare it to one of my weaknesses. Today was no different. Even though she hadn’t seen Ayuan in years, she still had plenty to say:

“Look how cleanly Xiaoyuan dresses. You’re already this big and still don’t wash your own clothes. Every day you’re like a little mud monkey, not careful at all. Am I supposed to wash for you until you’re thirty?...”

I looked at Ayuan. That guy really was clean—he was even wearing white pants. I thought to myself: how could I not be dirty? I got kicked to the ground. If you looked closely, there was probably still blood smeared on me! The moment I thought of the blood on me, I lost my appetite—I had to wash the blood out of my clothes fast, or if Mom found out there’d be no way to explain it. Right, and there was also that blood-soaked key.

I hurried back to my room, changed pants as fast as possible, quickly washed the blood off the dirty pair, then threw them into the washing machine. “Mom, I put my pants in the washer. Help me wash them.”

“You’ve made progress today. At least you know enough to put your clothes in the washer yourself,” Mom answered from outside.

That night Ayuan and I slept in my little room and talked until very late. We rambled all over the place, and I finally understood what had caused today’s incident. It turned out the whole thing had to do with a girl named Yanzi. (Why are most fights about girls?)

Yanzi had been very famous in the western suburbs. She was one grade above me, so she should have been in the third year of middle school by then. When I used to live in the western suburbs, we had never spoken, but there had been all kinds of rumors about her, so I knew a little.

A girl like Yanzi was usually called a “big loudmouth,” though really that term mostly meant those promiscuous sluts who slept around. But for junior high girls like Yanzi, it just meant they’d had a few boyfriends and dressed a little fashionably. By today’s standards, they’d probably be lovely girls—beautiful, stylish, daring to love and hate. People back then just didn’t know how to appreciate them. Yanzi seemed to have developed much earlier than the other girls. She had a pretty oval face, and when she smiled her eyes curved into crescents. Her chest had begun to swell a little. Her legs were long, and there were two red strings tied around one ankle. Yanzi also seemed pretty good at fighting. I once saw her beat up an older girl.

I think the original source of the Yanzi rumors came from one of our classmates’ mothers. Back then our parents often took the company shuttle to and from work. There were two shuttle buses, and one of them had mostly female passengers, so those two ladies’ buses became the source of most gossip. The stories about Yanzi were first passed very seriously and very secretly from one girl classmate’s mother to another girl classmate’s mother, then that mother very seriously passed them on while using her as a negative example to educate her daughter, and then our girl classmate very seriously and very secretly told other people—thus becoming a secret known by everyone:

Supposedly when Yanzi was in fourth grade, a man in his thirties took a liking to her and promised to give her 20 yuan every time they met, and the two carried on like that for a while. What exactly happened, nobody knows, but coming from the mouth of our classmate’s middle-aged mother, who was famous for “having a big mouth,” I’m sure it must have been very “exciting.”

This fight happened because Liuzi had bullied one of Yanzi’s close girlfriends, so Yanzi stood up for her and got Big Head and the short guy to teach Liuzi a lesson. Apparently the short guy had been chasing Yanzi for a long time (no wonder he was trying so hard). Supposedly Liuzi had bragged to this girl that he was the boss of the south side of town, a real fighter, and also that his family was rich, so he was very famous. He said he wanted to be with her, and said he’d take her to Shanghai. The girl saw that he was young and talented, and gave him her heart, only to get “done” by Liuzi. —I don’t know why Ayuan used the word “done.” It made it hard for me to understand exactly what he meant. At the time Ayuan sounded very worldly, with a bit of disdain in his tone, so I was too embarrassed to keep pressing him and seem childish. So exactly how Liuzi had “done” that girl became an eternal mystery.

“Then what did any of this have to do with you? Why were you messing around with them?” I asked, totally confused.

“For a while before, Yanzi was my girlfriend.”

“Girl... girl... girlfriend?!” I was both shocked and full of admiration, and instantly fascinated. I had to get the whole story. Ayuan hemmed and hawed and didn’t want to say, but he couldn’t withstand my endless pestering. In the end he unwillingly confessed a few fragments, which I’ve now put together and organized like this:

Ayuan and Yanzi were both on the school track team. Ayuan was extremely fast in the 100 meters, outstanding not only at school but in the district too. Yanzi, with long beautiful legs and a graceful waist, was good at high jump. Frequent training gave them the chance to be together. Two weeks after they met, Yanzi began to develop feelings for Ayuan, while Ayuan was still completely clueless. Finally one day after training, several people were sitting on the high-jump mats in the school gym resting. Yanzi sat pressed tightly against Ayuan, drinking water, breathing softly. The soft sponge mat and the scent of a girl made Ayuan instantly dizzy. The other classmates were still innocent little chicks who didn’t understand anything either. A bunch of them horsed around wildly on the mats, cursing nonstop.

Ayuan was just trying to stay clear-headed and edge away a little when Yanzi suddenly said, “Ayuan, if I said I wanted to ‘reverse chase’ you, would you believe me?” (“Reverse chase” was a popular term back then. “Chasing” meant a boy pursuing a girl; “reverse chasing” meant a girl pursuing a boy.)

Ayuan was so shocked by such a “plainspoken” confession that his hands and feet went cold. Not knowing how to answer, after a moment’s thought he gave the least romantic reply possible: “I would.”

But even that answer was enough to satisfy Yanzi. She gave him a sweet smile, and Ayuan smiled stiffly back. Then they sat there speechless for quite a while.

After that, one afternoon when there were no classes, they arranged to go “flatten coins” by the railway. Flattening coins meant putting 1-fen, 2-fen, and 5-fen coins on the rails, then picking them up after the train rolled over them, when the coins had been pressed into thin little aluminum sheets. Actually it was a really boring game.

That day the sun was blazing. The two of them played by the tracks for a while, then felt it was pretty dull, so Yanzi suggested they walk around. Like young men and women in an 80s movie who’d just been introduced to each other, awkward, mechanical, but trying hard to stay composed, the two walked forward along the path beside the tracks.

“Did you hold hands? Did you hold hands?” I was getting anxious and urged Ayuan to hurry up.

“Just listen, what the fuck are you getting excited for?”

It was insanely hot that day. Sand had gotten into Ayuan’s plastic sandals, and mixed with sweat into mud. The farther he walked, the more uncomfortable he got, and Yanzi also felt there was none of the romance she’d imagined. Then finally a little creek appeared ahead (fucking perfect timing, but it really happened), the water just deep enough to cover their ankles. Happily, the two stepped into the water. The cool feeling gave Yanzi some renewed faith in romance. Above them was a steel railway bridge, and underfoot was the gently running stream, with tiny tadpoles bumping against their feet now and then. All around, vines and water plants and the bushes on the bank were lush and green, and there was also a beautiful... blazing sun.

Suddenly Yanzi said something to Ayuan: “I want to...” Just then a train roared overhead, drowning out every sound.

The two shouted a few things to each other, but of course neither could hear a thing.

Then Yanzi suddenly threw herself at him, put her hands on Ayuan’s shoulders, and planted a solid kiss right on his mouth. Ayuan’s brain went “boom,” and then went completely blank. Just like that, in a daze, he offered up his first kiss. Afterward Yanzi even took the initiative and asked Ayuan to touch her leg. Trembling, he touched it twice. Of course it was through her pants, but back then that was still pretty damn impressive.

“Hey, did it feel good or what? Damn, you’re amazing. It must’ve felt really soft, right?” I was insanely envious of Ayuan’s romantic adventures.

“So-so.” Ayuan said disdainfully.

The next noon, Xiaowei really did come to school to look for me.

After dropping out, Liuzi still often came to school. Every time he entered campus he had a big crowd with him, swaggering around. Sometimes he came to hang out with us, but most of the time he came to beat people up or extort money from first-year kids. That was the thing Xiaowei hated most about him. That day Xiaowei was across the road from the school gate, his left arm wrapped in thick bandages. Beside him was a motorcycle, and on the front sat a very flashy-looking girl. Xiaowei called out to me loudly from afar. Some of the classmates around me had seen Xiaowei before and were pretty surprised, asking how I knew him. I had no time for them and hurried across the road toward Xiaowei. “Thanks for yesterday!” Xiaowei smiled in a very refined way and tossed me a cigarette. “It’s nothing. They were really bullying people too much. Besides, I didn’t really help much.” I took the cigarette, and Xiaowei lit it for me.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen someone talk to Liji the way you did,” Xiaowei said. “Liji’s fine with me, but with other people he’s kind of quick to turn hostile. But he’s absolutely loyal. Hang around with him for a while and you’ll know.”

“I’m fine. I can get along with anybody.” I was thinking, as long as he doesn’t hit me, that’s already good enough. Hang around with him?!

I told Xiaowei what I’d learned the night before about why the fight had started. While I was talking, a few tough punks from the school came over to greet Xiaowei, and Xiaowei smilingly handed out cigarettes. After hearing me out, Xiaowei nodded. “I asked a few friends from the western suburbs yesterday too. It’s about the same as what you said.”

Then Xiaowei put his arm around my shoulder and turned to the others: “Hey, guys, this is Xiao Zhe, my little brother. Help me look after him at school. If he does anything wrong, tell me first. Just consider it giving me some face.”

“Brother Xiaowei, since you’ve spoken, what could possibly happen?” The idiot who said that had once tried to extort money from me. I didn’t give it to him, and we’d gotten into a fight over it.

“Xiao Zhe, Liuzi got sent to the hospital last night. I’m going over to see him in a bit. Got anything to do?”

“I’m fine. You go first. I’ll go see him tonight. Take it easy.”

Xiaowei’s motorcycle shot off in a flash.

That afternoon, word spread through the whole school that Xiaowei had taken me as his little brother. A lot of people were shocked and envious, and some older students who mixed it up pretty well at school also came over to greet me. At the time I didn’t care at all, because back then I had zero interest in whether I seemed badass at school or not. All my thoughts were on basketball, studying, and chasing girls. But later, as Ayuan and the others gradually moved to the southern suburbs, my understanding changed completely.

I did very well in middle school and studied hard too. But my hard work never showed in class. Usually I didn’t listen during lessons. I was either talking to my deskmate or reading wuxia novels. During self-study periods we often told dirty jokes on purpose in voices loud enough for the girls to hear. Our greatest pleasure didn’t seem to be the jokes themselves, but seeing the girls secretly blush and giggle—only Ting didn’t laugh, and that made me very dissatisfied.

Ting was the class study committee member and had the best grades. I always thought girls with excellent grades were more attractive to me. Most of them kept themselves proper, deeply loathed boys with bad behavior, often didn’t dress fashionably, but were pretty and sharp-minded.

The best thing about Ting was her mouth. It was small, and her lips were thin. Even though she never wore lipstick, they were always very bright and lovely. During exams she would think while lightly pursing her lips, frowning a little, one elbow on the desk, her fair wrist supporting her cheek... Damn, I think the huge swings in my exam scores had a direct connection to whether I spent the exam watching Ting.

Ting basically never talked to me unless she had to. She knew I often looked at her, but pretended not to notice. There was even one time when I was talking loudly in class and Ting turned around and said to me: “What I hate most are people who don’t listen themselves and won’t let others listen either!”

At last, an opportunity appeared.

On Friday afternoon, the school organized a movie screening. Two films were shown back to back: Code Name Cougar and Juvenile Delinquents. I sat beside Ting. I’d seen both films before, and from the very beginning I kept talking to her nonstop, but she ignored me. So I started telling her all the nicknames of the school’s teachers and where those nicknames came from. Ting kept her lips tightly pressed together and stared at the screen without saying a word. Finally I said, “I’ve seen this movie. It’s boring as hell. There’s only one good part. Hey, it’s coming up.”

Ting kept staring at the screen and ignored me.

On the screen, the hijackers were demanding that the police deliver food to the grass by the plane door, then ordering the flight attendant played by Gong Li to go pick it up.

“Watch closely. They’re about to make Gong Li go pick up the box. It’s great, hurry and watch,” I said. Ting thought some tense plot point was coming, so she sat up straight and looked ahead. “Look, look, she’s picking it up.”

On the screen, the flight attendant bent down to pick up the box, and from the collar of her uniform there showed a deep cleavage and half a breast.

Ting turned her face and stared straight at me, and finally couldn’t help laughing. “Why are you so bad?”

“How am I bad? It’s the director who’s bad!” I said in a low voice.

“Then why did you make me watch?”

“The school spent money to educate us. There’s only this tiny bit with any educational value, and if you don’t pay attention to it, wouldn’t the money be wasted?”

“How come you gave the teachers so many nicknames?” From her first sentence on, Ting kept laughing.

So I launched into another round of nonsense. Ting laughed so hard she could barely breathe, but didn’t dare laugh loudly. Her little face turned bright red. The light from the screen made her face flicker between brightness and shadow, and her sparkling eyes shone in the dark. Watching her shake with laughter like a flower in the wind, I couldn’t help grabbing her hand.

Ting jumped in fright and pulled hard to get it back, but I had already locked onto it firmly.

“Let go, ugh, I hate you.”

“I’m not letting go, not letting go.”

Ting got so anxious she started prying at my fingers with her other hand.

“If you pull again, I’m going to shout,” I threatened her.

Ting looked at me but said nothing, still trying hard to pull her hand from mine.

“Ow!” I shouted loudly, and everyone in the theater looked over this way.

“Who hit me?” I turned around and yelled toward the back.

Ting was so frightened she didn’t dare keep pulling her hand back, because after that shout, a lot of people had looked over at us. Her little hand stayed in my grip, her face burning red with embarrassment. I didn’t really know what to say either. After all, my practical experience in this area was still exactly zero. The second film was Juvenile Delinquents. Everyone watched it pretty seriously. The movie theater was completely quiet, and I could hear Ting’s breathing. From time to time I looked at her, and she turned her head to look at me too. A film about juvenile crime somehow had the two of us watching in growing tenderness.

When the movie ended, we were the last to leave. We only started back after all the classmates had gone. That day Ting had ridden her bicycle there. I hadn’t brought mine; I’d come by bus. It was time to take Ting home, so I told Ting to give me a ride on her bike.

“Usually it’s the boy who rides the girl?” Ting seemed to find it a little awkward.

“What do you mean usually? Who’s usually?”

“Oh, I mean... I mean... never mind, I’m not talking to you!” Ting stamped her foot, half shy and half annoyed.

“Oh^^^^^ I get it. You mean that. Usually people only have the boy carry the girl after they’ve been together a long time. At the start it’s always the girl carrying the boy.”

“What nonsense. Who’s with you?” Ting said it with her mouth, but still got on the bike and took me.

I sat on the rear rack of the bicycle with my legs spread, my feet on the back wheel axle, and both hands on Ting’s waist.

She stiffened immediately, her back going ramrod straight. I figured now she understood why I’d wanted her to carry me.

“Hurry up and pedal, it’s getting dark,” I said, lightly tickling her waist.

“No, stop, it tickles to death,” Ting laughed and begged for mercy, while threatening me too: “If you keep fooling around I’ll fall over, and you’ll go down with me.”

“So you dare threaten me?” I gave her waist a harder tickle. “My legs are long. I can plant them and stop right away. You won’t fall.”

Ting laughed, begged for mercy, and dodged my hand the whole way. The bicycle curved wildly down the evening streets. The lights were just coming on, golden light shining on our happy young faces (fourteen years old—back then we really were so young), and in our eyes the broken-down streets of the south side looked dazzling and colorful.

From that day on, during class Ting always liked to glance over toward me, intentionally or not, and if I caught her she would quickly turn away. After school we met far away from the school gate and I rode her home (she was afraid classmates would see). Ting sat on the rear rack of my shabby old 28-inch bike. I wore a military coat, one hand on my handlebars, the other pulling along her 26-inch bicycle. (Even now I still can’t figure out why I was so addicted to doing that.) Every morning when I entered the classroom, Ting’s homework notebook would definitely already be on my seat. The first thing I did was copy it. Actually I knew how to do those problems, but copying homework was a badge of being a “problem student,” and there was no way I could not do it...

Because of Ting, the gray first half of my second year of middle school became colorful.

But as Ayuan and the others gradually moved over from the western suburbs, peaceful life began to change. It might not have meant much to life itself, but in the eyes of a fourteen- or fifteen-year-old boy, it was already a world-turning upheaval.

When Ayuan’s family moved over, it marked that most of the residents of the western suburban construction compound had relocated to the southern suburbs. For the construction compound, this was really nothing unusual. The construction company where my father worked moved from one part of the country to another, building many national key projects all over China. With that came the constant relocation of the family housing area. Often people would live in one place for over ten years, and then suddenly everyone would move. Generation after generation, the kids in the construction compound gradually developed one great skill through these relocations: wherever they moved, they fought there, and wherever they went, they had to be top dog. This move from the western suburbs to the southern suburbs was no exception.

And so, the fighting began.

Ayuan got assigned to our school. He was in Class 4, and I was in Class 3. Our school was also notorious in the southern suburbs for bad discipline. The local punks of the south side all had more or less some connection with our school, and plenty of the students inside were basically just street toughs. So the main place where the kids from our compound and the kids from the southern suburbs came into conflict inevitably became our school. Even though Ayuan and I had decided not to get involved with either side, somehow we still got dragged into the fighting.

The first clash was with Big Head’s side.

As soon as we entered the classroom that afternoon, we found our classmate Baozi lying face-down on his desk. Baozi’s surname was Bao, and he was white and chubby, with an extremely good temper. No matter how people messed with him, he never got mad, so both the boys and girls in class all called him Baozi.

“Baozi, are you that damn sleepy? Sleeping before class even starts? At least wait until Cheng Big Teeth starts talking!” Chang Lei smacked the back of Baozi’s head. Cheng Big Teeth was our second-year history teacher, an old lady over sixty, extremely fussy, with rather large front teeth, so everyone had given her that nickname.

Baozi didn’t make a sound lying there, but his shoulders twitched a few times.

“Holy shit, Baozi, you’re crying? Seriously?”

An Tao and I heard that and came over too. “What’s wrong, Baozi? If something happened, say it!” I asked, patting his shoulder.

Chang Lei, An Tao, and I were closest in the class. During breaks we often snuck off together to smoke, and we’d also fought together a few times. After school and during breaks from school, we were always hanging around together. At that time the Little Tigers had just become popular, and I’d wanted to name our three-man group Little Tigers. But Chang Lei and An Tao denounced it as “way too fucking stupid.” Later, according to An Tao’s idea, we called ourselves the Three Musketeers. It was still a little dorky, but better than Little Tigers.

The three of us all had very good relationships with our classmates, and for a lot of things in class, we three were the ones who stepped up. Chang Lei was even assistant class monitor at the time. If Baozi had a problem, there was no way we could ignore it.

We asked for quite a while before Baozi finally lifted his head. His eyes were red, and there was a clear handprint on his left cheek. Sniffling, he said, “People from the western suburbs hit me!”

An Tao shot to his feet and was about to rush outside, but Chang Lei grabbed him. “Hear him out first.”

“Just now when I was going into the school gate, there were four or five guys squatting beside it, looked like punks, seemed to be from the western suburbs. They’d come to our school before. They asked me for money. I said I didn’t have any. They said if they found even one cent on me they’d beat me to death. I only had the 16 yuan for the hepatitis A shot this afternoon. They searched me, found it, beat me up, and stole my watch. Then they made me go buy condoms at the pharmacy next door. I was too embarrassed to go, so they beat me...” By the time he got to this point, Baozi was already crying too hard to continue.

“Fuck your mother!” I cursed viciously. My chest felt like it was about to explode, hot and stifling, and I felt like only cursing out loud would make me feel better. Without thinking, I rushed to the sanitation cabinet beside the podium, yanked out the watering can used for sprinkling water, and ran for the door. An Tao was just as fast. He kicked the handle off a mop and grabbed it as a weapon. Chang Lei grabbed Baozi. “Baozi, come downstairs with us. You identify them.”

“I don’t want to go, forget it! Forget it!” Baozi was timid and never caused trouble. He shrank into his seat and didn’t dare get up.

“How can you be such a wimp? Hurry up, stop talking nonsense.” Chang Lei tugged Baozi along and came downstairs with us. Chang Lei had practiced sanda, and when he fought he never needed a weapon. I was different. If I didn’t have something in my hand, I never felt secure. The watering can was made of thick sheet metal welded together, used in summer to sprinkle water in the classroom to cool it down. It had a long spout with a spray head on it. Holding it upside down by the spout felt very handy. I carried it and sprinted all the way downstairs.

The four of us stopped at the entrance to the teaching building. Baozi looked through the glass in the main door toward the school gate. Right then three people were walking out from inside the gate. The one on the left was wearing denim, the middle one was somewhat short and fat, and the one on the right was a tall skinny guy.

“Is it them?” we asked while peering out. “Baozi, say it quick, don’t freeze up!”

“Y-yes, them.” Before Baozi had even finished speaking, the three of us had already rushed out.

I was in front. None of us made much noise, and that afternoon we’d all had PE, so we were wearing sneakers, which made even less sound when we ran. My watering can was already swinging toward the backs of their heads before they noticed anything.

I went for the short fat guy in the middle, because I thought he might be easier to handle. Looking back on it now, I guess I probably had some RPWT tendencies in group fights—usually picking the soft one to squeeze. But at the time I wasn’t thinking that much. I just wanted to teach those bastards a hard lesson.

The two people beside him heard the whoosh of my watering can and hurriedly turned around to look back, but the fat guy somehow noticed nothing at all. My watering can smashed squarely into the back of his head with a loud clang, denting the thick metal body of the can in a huge chunk.

“Ow!” the fat guy cried and sprawled forward onto the ground, his face slamming right into the speed bump at the school gate. Our school’s speed bump was made of two long thick iron pipes connected by thinner pipes in the middle and welded like a ladder, laid flat on the ground so cars would have to slow down entering the gate.

I gave him no chance to react. I brought the watering can down on his back again, then stomped hard on his head several times. His face knocked against the iron-pipe speed bump with loud banging sounds.

An Tao and Chang Lei had started almost at the same time as me. The tall skinny one An Tao attacked was the most alert of the three, but by the time he turned his face, An Tao’s big fist was already there. It was a heavy punch, landing squarely on the bridge of his nose, and blood spurted out immediately. An Tao fought a lot like I did: once he hit the target, he didn’t stop. The mop handle came whipping down hard across the tall guy’s cheekbone, knocking him into a huge stumble. He lurched away and crashed into the stone pillar at the school gate.

Things didn’t seem to be going as quickly on Chang Lei’s side as they were for us. The guy in denim seemed to know a move or two. Even after such a sudden attack, he could still fight back. Chang Lei wasn’t in a hurry. He even fought with a certain method to it.

To be continued ...

If nobody’s reading it, I won’t post any more.
Because this article has a lot of violent scenes, but overall it’s still quite real. Very moving!


The ending is
Xiaowei gets hacked to death by the Northeast gang.
Ayuan is arrested and executed by shooting.

555555.......I’m dizzy... too long...