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Chapter 1 of 100

Chapter 1: A Strange Feeling

8 min read2,116 words

If I could go back to the past and everything happened again,

Would I understand the essence of life?

Would I not fear setbacks and have no complaints of emptiness?

Would I see further?

If I could go back to the past and fall in love with you again,

Would you care about forever?

Or would you say a brief goodbye after the passionate love?

Give me some space.

I no longer make promises lightly.

I no longer change myself for anyone.

After experiencing the trials of life, the setbacks in love are inevitable.

I still look forward to tomorrow.

Hai Zhuang, an ordinary and unremarkable small town under the jurisdiction of Pingchuan County, Qinxig Province, Huaxia Republic, is about a four-hour drive from the provincial capital Fengyuan. Located on the Loess Plateau, the town has a population of about 20,000, with over 60% of the adults being employees of the Qinxig Pressing Equipment Factory—a heavy machinery factory that was relocated from Northeast China to guard against a Soviet invasion. In other words, this town was built around this factory, which ranks among the top in the country.

In 1983, there were only two main streets, each about a mile long, and a dirt path connecting them. On both sides of the streets, apart from a few scattered small shops, there were rows of low, mud houses. After heavy summer rains, the entire street would become muddy, with thick yellow mud deep enough to cover the ankles, causing all passersby to frown.

The gate of the factory's primary school was not far from the busiest intersection on the main street. The school was not large, consisting of two dilapidated two-story buildings, a newly constructed four-story teaching building, and a dusty playground. In the eyes of people from after 2000, the children, dressed in simple and old-fashioned clothes, began their "dull" childhood here.

"Classmates, if your father gives you one orange and your mother gives you one orange, how many oranges do you have in your hand?" The female teacher, wearing a gray coat and old-fashioned black-rimmed glasses, was about thirty, and she was teaching a math lesson to the children.

"Two...!" All the children, in unison, with all their might, and in a drawn-out voice, shouted as loudly as possible, so loud that even those standing outside the corridor could hear clearly.

"Right, classmates are correct! One orange plus another orange equals two oranges, so 1+1=2!" The teacher, smiling, wrote 1+1=2 on the blackboard. As her gaze swept across the room, she noticed a boy in the second-to-last row by the window, intently looking outside, captivated by something new.

The teacher sighed inwardly, feeling somewhat helpless, and shook her head. If it were any other child, she would have called on him to answer a question to remind him not to daydream during class. However, for this child, first-grade math was not challenging at all, and it was no wonder he was distracted by the outside world.

When she took over this class at the beginning of the semester, this child, who would not listen in class, only slept, practiced writing, read extracurricular books, and looked out the window, gave her a lot of trouble. No matter how much she talked to him or his parents, he remained his own person, doing everything except listening to the lessons, but he never disturbed his classmates.

To be honest, this child had his outstanding qualities. At just six years old, he could recognize two to three thousand characters. According to him, he had read the three of the four great classical novels, except for "Dream of the Red Chamber," which he found incomprehensible after a few chapters and discarded. He could recite the multiplication table backward, and primary school math up to fifth grade was no challenge for him. Although he did not score a perfect score on the test, the mistakes were clearly due to carelessness. What surprised the teachers even more was that his knowledge of geography, history, and literature was on par with theirs. Understanding his situation, she no longer interfered with him, allowing him to be free during class as long as he did not disturb others. Fang Mingyuan was a well-behaved child, and during class, he only read extracurricular books or stared out the window, never bothering other children.

"Alas, this child is too young. Otherwise, he could be considered for direct promotion to junior high school. No wonder he is so indifferent here; these lessons have no appeal to him at all." The teacher thought to herself as she wrote on the blackboard. At this time, especially in this small town, there were no special classes for gifted children, and the concept of young college students was unheard of.

This boy, who was not tall and even somewhat short for his age, was named Fang Mingyuan. His father, Fang Sheng, was a native of Qinxig, and his mother, Bai Ping, was a student from Yanjing who came to Qinxig for the rural re-education program and later worked at the Qinxig Pressing Equipment Factory, where she met and married Fang Sheng. The family included two grandparents, two uncles (one working in Fengyuan and the other unemployed), and two aunts who had just started working.

Fang Mingyuan, who had been taught to read and write by his father since the age of three, only stayed in kindergarten for three days before refusing to return to that boring and restrictive place. Fortunately, both grandparents were retired, and Fang Sheng often worked night shifts, so there was no shortage of people to take care of him. The boy was always sweet and well-behaved, not causing any trouble, and although he was not as handsome as Pan An, he was still considered good-looking. As the eldest grandson, he was adored by everyone in the family, and even his parents' coworkers and neighbors treated him with great affection. Young aunts, in particular, would always pick him up and show him affection whenever they saw him. Uncles and aunts with children of the same age were especially fond of him, and they had already arranged several "child marriages" in jest.

In early 1980s China, although most people could afford a basic living, meat, eggs, sugar, and peanuts still required ration tickets and were only available during holidays. Eating them regularly was a luxury. Fortunately, Fang Sheng's parents had pensions, the family kept a few chickens, and the two aunts contributed part of their salaries to the household, so life in this small town was relatively comfortable. Adding an egg to Fang Mingyuan's diet every few days was not a significant burden.

Fang Mingyuan, with his right hand in his pocket, absentmindedly played with a boiled egg, which he had long since grown tired of. In this era, gourmet food, with its emphasis on taste and appearance, was not something most people could enjoy. Even if they had the ingredients, no one would go to great lengths to prepare it. The primary concern was to be full, and the finer points of taste and appearance were not within the scope of most people's considerations.

To earn more overtime pay to support the family, Fang Mingyuan's parents did not spend much time on household chores, which were mostly handled by his grandparents, who lived nearby. Having experienced the ups and downs of the country, they could not be expected to have exceptional culinary skills. Therefore, eggs were either fried or boiled, and "happy" Fang Mingyuan had only two choices.

"Hey, Fang Mingyuan, what are you looking at?" A boy sitting behind him poked Fang Mingyuan's back and whispered. The window, with only a few poplar trees and an empty playground, could not have been that interesting, and the boy was very curious, unable to resist his curiosity.

"Liu Yong! Stand up!" The teacher, with her keen eyes, immediately noticed his actions and shouted. The unfortunate boy had to stand up, blushing, under the gaze of his classmates. At this moment, Fang Mingyuan's gaze returned to the classroom, and a smile appeared on his face—Liu Yong, who always forgot his lessons, had been standing for punishment for the umpteenth time for talking to Fang Mingyuan during class.

The class period was not long, and soon the clear bell rang, signaling the end of the class. The children, who had been cooped up in the classroom for half an hour, rushed out to the playground like wild horses released from their pens. At this age, children who did not love to play were a rare minority. "Fang Mingyuan, what were you looking at outside? You got me in trouble with the teacher!" Liu Yong, who had been standing for five minutes, was still curious and pouted.

Fang Mingyuan smiled slightly, waved his hand, and did not answer. Liu Yong grumbled softly and turned to leave. He was always wary of this smart classmate—probably the only one in the school who could daydream and read extracurricular books during class without being scolded by the teacher. Despite never listening, he always scored perfect marks and was the top student in the class. These two points alone were enough to make most of his classmates look at him with a mix of admiration and fear. More importantly, he needed a lot of help with his studies from the boy in front of him. If he made him unhappy and refused to help, he would suffer the consequences. Although young, he understood this.

"Big Brother Yuan, aren't you going out to play?" A fair-skinned, round-faced little girl skipped up to Fang Mingyuan, pulling his hand and pouting, "Will you play with me? Please?"

This little girl, named Feng Qian, was slightly younger than Fang Mingyuan and lived next door. The two families were separated by only a wall. Feng Qian's mother and Fang Mingyuan's father worked in the same workshop, and her father was a soldier stationed far away, returning only occasionally. The two families were very close, and sometimes when Feng Qian's mother worked the night shift, Feng Qian would sleep at Fang Mingyuan's house. Fang Mingyuan was very fond of this lively little sister, often telling her stories and using his pocket money to buy her treats.

"Qianqian, I have a boiled egg here. Do you want it?" Fang Mingyuan smiled. He needed to give it away; otherwise, if his grandmother found it in his hand when he returned home at noon, she would scold him. Fang Mingyuan was not afraid of anything but the nagging of the elders, which was worse than being hit.

"Big Brother Yuan, you don't eat breakfast. Fang Uncle and Aunt Bai will scold you if they find out," Feng Qian said softly, "Then Grandpa and Grandma will be unhappy." Feng Qian's father had passed away, and the two families were very close, so the grandparents she referred to were Fang Mingyuan's grandparents.

"If you don't tell them, how will they know? Do you want it? If you don't, I'll throw it away!" Fang Mingyuan pretended to throw the egg out the window, scaring Feng Qian into grabbing his hand and snatching the egg. In her family, she only got to eat a fried egg every few days, so she could not bear to waste it. Fang Mingyuan watched as Feng Qian carefully peeled the egg and ate it, feeling a sense of care for his little sister.

However, when the class bell rang and Feng Qian skipped back, Fang Mingyuan frowned slightly. Everything that had happened, including what had happened in class, gave him a sense of déjà vu, as if it had happened a long time ago, with the little girl's expressions, words, and actions unchanged. This feeling had been occurring since he was young and became more frequent as he grew older, causing him great unease.

But he did not dare to tell his parents. He remembered the first time he experienced this, he told his parents, and the whole family was thrown into chaos. His grandparents immediately concluded that he was possessed and burned incense and prayed, almost calling in a shaman to exorcise him. His parents thought it was not serious, but they could not resist the nagging of the elders and took him to the hospital in the provincial capital Fengyuan for two days, causing him, who hated hospitals, a lot of suffering. Since then, to avoid going to the hospital, he kept quiet about similar incidents.

Fortunately, this phenomenon only caused him some mental distress and had not led to any other consequences. Fang Mingyuan, who hated hospitals, continued to keep it a secret.

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