The year 2012 came to an end, and the apocalypse never arrived.
During Spring Festival in 2013, Shao Wu checked his postgraduate entrance-exam score: 332. Without question, it was nowhere near enough for Renmin University, the school his parents had chosen for him. When they learned that Shao Wu had lost his postgraduate-recommendation eligibility, they first had a huge argument with each other. A few days later, as though they had made up, they said to him together, “It’s okay, son. If recommendation didn’t work out, then take the exam yourself. You can definitely get in. And if that still doesn’t work, you can always study abroad… We’ve already looked into it for you. Why don’t you apply to Renmin?”
What else could he say? Shao Wu looked at the bags beneath his mother’s eyes and said quietly, “Okay.”
Then came exam preparation. His parents rented him an apartment near the university specifically because they were afraid his roommates would disturb his rest. From time to time, they came over too, each visit bringing all kinds of review materials or notes, like every blindly anxious parent who believed there had to be some way they could help. It was during those months that Shao Wu developed the habit of smoking. Two cigarettes a day: one after waking and one after finishing his studying at night. He would open the window and let the ash drift outside, but it did not take long for his parents to smell it anyway. Shao Wu thought they would be furious, or at least scold him, but instead his mother actually said, “It’s fine, son. If you think smoking helps you study better, then smoke. You can quit later…”
Chen Yimang had been out of university for half a year, though he had never received his diploma. He did not seem to care and was still modeling in Shanghai. Shao Wu had no idea whether he had broken things off with that old man. Once, while passing a newsstand, Shao Wu saw Chen Yimang’s face on the cover of a fashion magazine. The camera had pushed in extremely close, revealing the fine texture of his lips and the darkness of his irises. Beneath the lens, he was expressionless and still strikingly beautiful.
When Chen Yimang heard that Shao Wu was preparing for the postgraduate entrance exam, he sounded pleased. “Great. A school in Beijing? Nice, nice. I go to Beijing for work all the time now. It’ll be much easier to hang out with you then…”
Shao Wu asked him, “What’s Shanghai like?”
Chen Yimang was silent for a moment and said only, “There are a lot of people.”
A week before the postgraduate entrance exam, Shao Wu saw another photo of Yang Shuyi and Zou Xin on Qzone. It had been taken at Yang Shuyi’s home. Zou Xin was holding a piece of air-dried cured pork, both sleeves rolled up, her cheeks flushed red, while Yang Shuyi sat beside her smiling at her. Someone Shao Wu did not know had commented underneath: “Meeting the parents already???”
Yang Shuyi replied: “I just brought her home to hang out.”
The person wrote again: “Nice photo. When school starts I’ll take some of you two with my DSLR~”
Yang Shuyi replied: “Sure, thanks!” followed by a grinning QQ emoji.
Shao Wu closed the browser and found that he actually felt quite calm. Even he thought it was strange.
The afternoon the scores came out felt a little like the day they had checked his gaokao results. It was the same laptop, and he was at home again, with both his parents having specially taken the day off. The webpage lagged just as badly. Shao Wu clicked “Search.” Nothing happened. He clicked again. Still nothing… It was after three in the afternoon by the time the page finally changed. In the winter afternoon, there was not a ray of sunlight to be seen; the sky was so overcast it looked ready to snow. Then the score appeared: 332. It was so low that they did not need to wait for the national cutoff or Renmin University’s preliminary-exam cutoff to know there was no chance.
All three of them froze for a few seconds. Then his mother stood up and slammed the door on her way out. His father’s anger was more direct: he raised a hand and struck Shao Wu across the left side of the face.
His voice trembled with fury. “How did you take that exam? Huh? I’m asking you, how did you take it?”
There was no pain in Shao Wu’s left cheek, only numbness. He shook his head. “I don’t know either.”
“You really are my punishment!”
His father left too.
Shao Wu was alone in the house. He sat there silently for a while, then called Zhu Jingjing. “Jingjing, I didn’t get in.”
“Oh. Then, then you…”
“I probably can’t stay at home for a while.” Shao Wu spoke softly. “I’ll go back to Chongqing first. No. 2 High will be recruiting soon too, so I… I’ll just do that for now.”
“What happened to you?” Zhu Jingjing immediately caught it. “Your voice sounds wrong.”
The left side of his face had swollen, making his speech slightly unclear.
Shao Wu smiled. “Nothing. I caught a cold.”
While his parents were out, Shao Wu started packing. There was not much to pack, really, just his computer and a few clothes. Once his suitcase was ready, he stood beside the desk and looked around his room. Through three years of high school, he could no longer remember how many times he had sat at that desk doing homework, or how many times he had stayed in this room thinking about Yang Shuyi: thinking of him memorizing humanities material, thinking of him listening to English songs, thinking of him… doing so many things.
The bookcase, the desk, the single bed, the bright ceiling light, the sea-blue cotton-and-linen curtains. This room, so familiar he could hardly have known it any better, had somehow become a place of farewell. Shao Wu had a feeling that once he left this time, it might be a very, very long while before he came back.
He suddenly walked over to the bookcase, crouched down, and opened the wooden door at the very bottom.
Inside was a row of old books: Sixth-Grade Olympiad Competition, Grimm’s Fairy Tales, 100 Perfect Essays… Shao Wu reached past the books and felt around behind them.
A serrated edge scraped across his fingertip. Shao Wu pinched it and pulled that long-deflated bag of Copico potato chips out from a crack in time.
All the air had leaked out, but Jay Chou still looked as vibrant as ever on the package. Shao Wu squeezed the bag hard but did not hear the chips break. They had absorbed too much moisture and had gone soft long ago.
Printed along the top of the package was the manufacturing date: February 13, 2007. Shelf life: 12 months.
Shao Wu set the chips down and continued searching through the bookcase. When he had sold off his old books back then, he remembered very clearly that he had kept that exercise book.
And sure enough, he found it. It had been wedged between two thick copies of Five-Year Gaokao, Three-Year Simulation.
It was Yang Shuyi’s exercise book. Back then, when Shao Wu was the English class representative, Sister Shan had assigned an essay. Everyone wrote it except Yang Shuyi. Later, he finally handed it in, written in one of those thin exercise books that cost fifty fen each, the kind only elementary school children used. Somehow, that made it look a little pitiful.
Shao Wu could no longer remember the exact essay prompt.
Looking at it now, Yang Shuyi’s handwriting really was ugly.
His crooked opening read:
Dear Wu, How are you?
Dear Wu, how are you?
I am a student from Xinghua Middle School. My name is Li Ming.
I am a student from Xinghua Middle School. My name is Li Ming.
I hear that your school has an international exchange program, which I am so interested in.
I heard that your school has an international exchange program, and I am very interested in it.
…
Like a lamp slowly, slowly coming on, Shao Wu remembered the essay prompt. If you were a high-school student named Li Ming and wanted to participate in the exchange program at XX High School in Canada, write an email to the person in charge, Miss Wu, asking about the exchange program…
Idiot. If you were writing to the person in charge to ask about an exchange program, how could you address her as “Dear Wu”?
Dear Wu. So that was why he had hidden this exercise book all those years ago.
In 2013, before early spring had arrived, Shao Wu packed the bag of Copico chips and the exercise book into his suitcase and left home, walking into the damp, cold wind.
End of Volume Three