Spring Festival 2009 passed quickly. Just as Sister Shan had said, once they reached the winter break of senior year, even the students who loved fooling around had no heart for it anymore. Shao Wu studied every day except New Year’s Eve; the rest of his break was swallowed by white test papers. The 2009 Spring Festival Gala did not seem particularly interesting either. On New Year’s Eve, while lights glowed in ten thousand homes, Dong Qing stood at center stage and emotionally looked back on the year: the great earthquake, the Olympics, Shenzhou 7, and the severe cold wave southern China was then enduring. In short, adversity makes a nation stronger.
His parents watched television with tears glimmering in their eyes. Shao Wu lowered his head and bit into an apple, expressionless. He only thought, Adversity makes a nation stronger. Adversity makes a nation stronger. Whose nation was becoming stronger? What right did people who had never lived through disaster have to say those words? And the people who had lived through it, people like his Yang Shuyi, had seen their lives destroyed by disaster. Where was the “stronger” in that?
Many years later, when people of Shao Wu’s generation looked back on 2008, most of them would say it had been a wonderful year: the economy surging forward, youth in full bloom, as though every kind of brightness and hope had been placed right before their eyes and into their hands. Those had seemed like good days stretching endlessly ahead.
But to Shao Wu, 2008 had been earthshaking, not beautiful. That year, he had wholeheartedly fallen for someone, but before anything could even begin, that person’s life was destroyed by the earthquake, on Shao Wu’s own birthday, no less. His birthday had become the anniversary of Yang Shuyi’s father’s death. What was that supposed to mean? Heaven and earth were not benevolent. They were far too indifferent.
Senior year resumed on the sixth day of the New Year. On the fifth, Shao Wu went to Yang Shuyi’s home carrying bags and boxes. Most of it had been gifts from other people: a case of oranges, a case of rabbit meat, two large Want Want gift packs, and a case of ribbonfish. On the way, Shao Wu bought another case of milk. This time his father was driving him there, so there was plenty of room.
His parents knew what had happened to Yang Shuyi’s family and felt sorry for him, so they both told Shao Wu to bring plenty of food and drink over.
When they reached the entrance to Chunhui Residential Compound, Shao Wu drew a deep breath. The year before, Yang Shuyi’s home had been packed with a noisy, lively family. This year, there were only two elderly people and two children left. Shao Wu called the house. Yang Shuyi was home and came out very quickly, greeting Shao Wu’s father with perfect respect. “Happy New Year, Uncle.”
“Ah, Happy New Year, Happy New Year.” Shao Jianhai patted Shao Wu on the shoulder and smiled at the two of them. “You two talk. I’ll head back.”
Yang Shuyi smiled too. “All right. Take care on the way.”
Shao Wu stood to one side, a little stunned. This seemed to be the first time he had seen Yang Shuyi act so respectful and polite toward an elder. Though it was not just respect and politeness. There was also an ease and composure about him. If the old Yang Shuyi had suddenly met Shao Wu’s father, he probably would have frozen for two or three seconds first. Why was that? Shao Wu suddenly thought of the months after the earthquake, when officials and media people of every kind had continually come to offer condolences or request interviews. Maybe that was when Yang Shuyi had learned how to handle these situations calmly and appropriately.
“Why did you bring so much?” Yang Shuyi looked over the large and small cartons on the ground. “We can’t finish all this.”
“They’re all things other people gave us. We don’t have room at home.” It was the same excuse as last year. “Take your time eating them. My mom said it’s so cold this winter that if the refrigerator is full, you can put some of it on the balcony.”
“No, I mean… forget it.” Yang Shuyi efficiently stacked two boxes together and held them under one arm, then picked up the milk with the other hand.
Shao Wu was left carrying only the two Want Want gift bags and the case of ribbonfish as he followed behind Yang Shuyi.
When they got to the apartment, he discovered that Grandma, Grandpa, and Longlong were all away.
“Sit down. I’ll boil some water.”
“No need,” Shao Wu said quickly. “I’m not thirsty.” He only wanted to sit and talk with Yang Shuyi.
Yang Shuyi shook his head. “It’s too cold inside. Drink something hot to warm up.”
Only after he said that did Shao Wu notice that the temperature seemed not to change at all when they came in from outside. At a glance, Yang Shuyi’s home looked terribly bare. The square table they had eaten at last year was gone, along with the cluster of chairs that had crowded the living room. A piece of velvet cloth covered the LCD television. The apartment was so empty it felt almost desolate.
“Where are Grandma and the others?”
“They went to stay with my great-aunt. They’ve been there since last month.” Yang Shuyi set the kettle on the gas stove and lit the burner. “When Grandma stays here, she keeps thinking about my dad. It hurts too much.”
“So you’re here by yourself? They… didn’t even come back for New Year?”
“I spent New Year at my great-aunt’s.” Yang Shuyi smiled. “There’s too much homework, so I had to come back here to do it.”
Shao Wu got up and walked into the kitchen. There was an unwashed plate and bowl stacked in the sink. On the stove sat a plate of stir-fried lettuce, probably left from the night before. The oil had already congealed into a translucent solid.
“This is what you eat?” Shao Wu asked.
“Of course not.” Yang Shuyi had his back to Shao Wu, looking strangely serious as he watched the stove. “I boiled dumplings last night. Then I wanted some vegetables too, so I stir-fried some lettuce.”
“…Was it good?”
Yang Shuyi smiled. “It was okay.”
Shao Wu suddenly hated the fact that he could not cook.