AOI 16

The bell for second period rang on time, and the students, urged on by their teachers, surged out toward the playground in a great wave. After they’d lined up neatly by class, the loudspeaker crackled to life with a rousing, resonant male voice.

“Commencing broadcast calisthenics, set six!”

Immediately, the children began with the first exercise—stretching—all moving in unison: left foot out, hands crossed, elbows lifted, wrists turning forward.

“One-two-three-four, two-two-three-four…”

The vibrant background music gradually drifted into the corridor outside the year-level office, where Xu Minghai and Qiushi were still standing as punishment. They were like two shadows abandoned by the world, enveloped in a desolate sense of being left to fend for themselves.

Fatty and San Shui, having “admitted their mistakes and shown good behaviour,” had already been released. As the quintessential negative examples, Xu Minghai and Qiushi had been kept back for continued reflection due to their “defiant attitude and refusal to admit fault.”

“In all my years of teaching, I’ve never come across students this stubborn! We’ll just wait it out and see how long the two of you can hold out!”

Cao Yunfeng’s parting roar still seemed to echo around them.

“Hey, Guozi, you really didn’t have to,” Xu Minghai sighed heavily, then pulled Qiushi into a more comfortable position as they leaned against the wall together. “You could’ve just humoured her and it’d be over. No matter how much you hate it, you’re stuck with her for years to come.”

Qiushi stared at his toes for a long time before finally saying, “But I wasn’t wrong. And I couldn’t let you stand here alone.”

“That’s a completely pointless sacrifice. What’s that line my dad’s always going on about?” Xu Minghai racked his brain. “Right—don’t put all your eggs in one basket.”

Qiushi didn’t understand. He only knew that he liked it this way. No class, no calisthenics, no classmates or teachers to deal with. He’d be perfectly happy standing here with Xu Minghai for all eternity.

Xu Minghai: “I told you to wait for me. How’d you end up in a fight all of a sudden?”

Qiushi pressed his lips together, then slowly pulled his hand out of his trouser pocket. He spread his five fingers open to reveal the “Sacred Fire Command”—now trampled beyond recognition.

“You said,” Qiushi looked at Xu Minghai, “the command lives with the person; if the command is destroyed, the person perishes.”

“Oh, for—” Xu Minghai covered his face. “It’s just an eraser! I’ll carve you another one later, no big deal.”

“No,” Qiushi carefully tucked the “Sacred Fire Command” back into his pocket. “I want this one.”

“Ah well, no harm done,” Xu Minghai reasoned. “At least now they know you’re not someone to mess with. Nobody’ll dare bully you again.”

Qiushi nodded, then reached up and touched Xu Minghai’s ear, swollen red like a hawthorn berry. “Does it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts! Your Teacher Cao’s got that Bone-Melting Palm—stops anyone in their tracks.” Xu Minghai grimaced, but reached over and pinched Qiushi’s ear in return—though he used absolutely no force. He mimicked Cao Yunfeng’s voice in a strained falsetto: “In all my years of teaching, I’ve never had a student this good-looking! You’re driving me crazy! Raaaaaagh!”

Qiushi couldn’t help laughing. Then he suddenly remembered—once, when his pinky finger had been crushed in a door and was throbbing with agony, what had Zhou Yingying done? He finally recalled. He immediately stood on tiptoe, turned his head, and began blowing warm air onto Xu Minghai’s ear.

“Stop, that tickles,” Xu Minghai pleaded.

Qiushi pushed aside Xu Minghai’s fidgeting hand and kept blowing streams of warm breath onto his ear. After a while, it still didn’t feel like enough, so he simply opened his mouth and took Xu Minghai’s earlobe between his lips.

The fiery, swollen pain in his ear seemed to ease instantly. Xu Minghai’s heart grew warm and damp in that cold winter day, and he stopped complaining about the tickling.

It wasn’t until the command for the seventh exercise—abdominal and back bends—rang out that Qiushi reluctantly ended the “treatment.”

Their perfect moment was drawing to a close. Qiushi leaned against the wall, tilting his head back to look up at the courtyard above. The grey winter sky was packed with thick clouds, not a single ray of sunlight managing to slip through.

After a long pause, he pouted and murmured: “I don’t want to go to school anymore.”

“Hang in there,” Xu Minghai said in the tone of someone who’d been through it all. “Once we graduate and start working and making money, we can do whatever we want! Spend our money however we like—eat Maltesers and cream cake every single day!”

“Can I buy my mum new clothes and buy Uncle Jiu some Sachima?” Qiushi asked.

“That’s nothing,” Xu Minghai waved his hand at the sky. “As long as we have resolve, fear no sacrifice, and surmount every difficulty, we’ll surely win victory!”

Looking at Xu Minghai’s beaming confidence, Qiushi for the first time in his life linked going to school with making money. He nodded gravely.

“Comrade Guozi! What is our goal?” Xu Minghai asked loudly.

“Maltesers!” Qiushi answered loudly.

“And?”

“Cream cake! New clothes! Sachima!”

“Right! But… how we get to that day is still the problem.” Xu Minghai earnestly advised him: “When Cao Yunfeng comes back, you should just admit you were wrong. No—I’m not telling you to bow down to evil… We have to despise the enemy strategically, but take them seriously tactically. Got it, Guozi?”

After calisthenics ended, Xu Minghai’s homeroom teacher finally came to collect him. As for Qiushi, when he saw Cao Yunfeng again, he went against his conscience and admitted fault, saying he’d “never deliberately provoke the teacher again,” and was finally allowed to return to Class 5.

The atmosphere in the classroom was restless. Everyone was still buzzing with excitement over the day’s events, and the looks falling on Qiushi were layered with all sorts of meanings.

Cao Yunfeng, having realized that this kid fell squarely into the “don’t judge a book by its cover” category, and fearing they might start brawling again, rearranged the seating once more.

Silently gathering up all his meagre belongings, Qiushi moved, under the varied gazes of his classmates, to a seat next to a big-eyed girl.

The last class of the morning was art. The teacher handed out paper and asked them to draw “My Home.” Qiushi set to work with his crayons.

A pitch-black courtyard gate, tall elm trees, grey-brick and grey-tile houses, frozen persimmons on the windowsill, cabbages under the window, coal bricks, a chimney puffing white smoke, and a cat with its tail in the air…

As Qiushi was painting with his markers, the big-eyed girl surreptitiously leaned in and whispered: “Hey, you’re really tough! Wu Zheng and Zhou Miao are such jerks—they’re always bullying us girls in class.”

Qiushi didn’t respond, and kept painting bangs on the cat’s forehead.

“But you need to be careful,” the girl continued. “Zhou Miao’s brother is even worse—he goes to Number Three Middle School, not far from here.”

“What’s so bad about his brother?” Qiushi stopped painting and turned to look at the girl.

“He shakes down primary school kids for money—won’t turn down a cent or two, but won’t say no to a buck or two either. He uses it to buy cigarettes and go to video arcades.”

“I don’t have any money,” Qiushi shook his head. “I’m not afraid of him shaking me down.”

“I’m just letting you know.” She blinked, then continued: “And don’t pay any attention to what they say about you. I think your voice is really nice—honest. You recite with so much feeling. When you started speaking, it was like I could see the sea!”

Qiushi found his new deskmate much friendlier and more approachable than the other kids. Not arrogant. So he whispered back: “Have you ever seen the sea?”

“Of course! My parents took me to Beidaihe over summer vacation!”

“Beidaihe… isn’t that a river?” Qiushi was confused.

“Oh no, of course not!” The big-eyed girl got flustered. She couldn’t quite explain why Beidaihe wasn’t a river, so she just stretched out her arms and gestured: “It’s huge, really blue, and it’s all water.”

Qiushi felt a pang of longing—he’d never seen the sea himself.

“My name is Feng Xiaoqing. I’m a class officer,” she introduced herself.

“Class monitor?” Qiushi asked.

“Well… better than class monitor,” Feng Xiaoqing tossed her long braid back over her shoulder. “I’m the music representative.”

“Does music representative count as a class officer?” Qiushi was curious.

“Hey, don’t underestimate a little bean bun just because it’s not a proper meal. I’ve won awards in the city for singing.” She beamed. “Being my deskmate—I guarantee you’ll develop in all five areas: morality, intelligence, physical fitness, aesthetics, and labour!”