TBTTSP - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Zhang Xu Has No Story (2)

I didn't go see Shang Yi, and I don't know if Xu Wanqing did.

During class, I opened my notebook and saw two lines written there:

How could a turtle be lowly? How could a book be lowly? To use a turtle to insult a book only reveals Lady Shang's own shallowness and shortsightedness.

Lady Zhang should also treasure books, cherishing and loving them.

The sudden blast of classical prose made my head spin. With my level of education, I mulled it over but couldn't understand it.

But Shang Yi must have understood.

Shang Yi's reply:

?

Sometimes, the fewer the words, the more emotion they convey. Shang Yi's single question mark encompassed the entire universe, from the grand question of why she was here conversing via notebook with a pretentious, pedantic woman, to the small matter of why Xu Wanqing had made such a sudden remark.

I had no idea what had happened between them, but I had no intention of getting involved.

Xu Wanqing was audacious enough to rebuke Shang Yi, but I didn't have the guts. Ever since I found out Shang Yi was the Big Boss's mistress, I wouldn't have objected even if she kicked my soul out or used my body to go streaking.

Ever since I started sitting at the very back of the classroom, the agony of class went from feeling like days were years to feeling like seconds were years.

My imagination wasn't very rich, and I couldn't get along with my classmates, so I took out the teacher's copy of Three Hundred Tang Poems that had mysteriously appeared on my desk. It was filled with dense annotations I couldn't understand. The teacher always had something on me; now I had something on him.

The giant turtle I had drawn was a work of divine craftsmanship, its brushwork and spirit truly one of a kind.

I flipped past the giant turtle, and the following pages were also filled with annotations.

I didn't dare write in it anymore.

Was the teacher setting a trap? The moment I drew something, he'd catch me red-handed.

I looked up from my small pile of books at the teacher on the dais. He was sitting there grading homework while picking a booger, his eyes darting left and right, gleaming sharply.

Adults are so scary.

I tucked a note inside the Three Hundred Tang Poems and reached for the boy in front of me.

The note read: So-and-so gave you this book.

So-and-so was a girl in our class who had a crush on this boy. With my keen eye, I had discovered this piece of gossip long ago. Today, I decided to play matchmaker and frame someone in the process.

And so they started passing notes back and forth. Their eyes met, the girl smiled shyly and threw a piece of eraser at him. Not to be outdone, he balled up a piece of tape and flung it back.

Inevitably, there was some friendly fire. Soon, the back three rows were in an uproar, flinging wads of paper, bits of eraser, and broken pencil tips. They flew like snow. The teacher looked up and stormed down from the dais.

He picked up the Three Hundred Tang Poems and studied it for a moment. I snickered in my corner.

"Zhang Xu, come with me."

---

When I came out of the teacher's office, I still couldn't process what had happened.

The teacher said the book contained remarkably insightful notes, citing classics and expanding on all sorts of knowledge. He meant that, well, my comprehensive mastery of the material had reached a state of perfection. He said he never expected to encounter such a rare flower in his twenty years of pale, uninteresting teaching, and that he'd long suspected I was a "modern female Crouching Dragon," which was why he'd paid special attention to me. He added that I'd finally made a stunning debut this semester and hoped I would keep up the good work and give him more surprises. Then he told me he'd signed me up for the county's poetry recitation competition, which was next Saturday.

Of course, I was no "female Crouching Dragon." But I didn't know whether to credit Xu Wanqing or Shang Yi for this. Thinking back, although Shang Yi had elevated me to the ranks of good students over the past month, she didn't have a history of acting like Zhiyanzhai for the Three Hundred Tang Poems. It was most likely Xu Wanqing.

She had disrupted my life. I didn't care if she was an ancient person or a modern one with some kind of fantasy disorder—I needed to talk to her.

I picked up my pen. I had no idea how to write the two characters for "Wanqing." I tried to copy them from her own notes, but my attempt was hideous.

Then I remembered her courtesy name.

Xu Yijiu, hello. The teacher says you're a female Crouching Dragon.

I didn't know how to write "Crouching Dragon" either.

After struggling for a while, I realized I was wasting my breath. Besides, next Saturday was a day when Xu Wanqing and Shang Yi were on duty together. It had little to do with me.

I closed the notebook and set it by my pillow. After rinsing my mouth, I heard a knock on the door.

I opened the door to find our Chinese class representative holding a thick, heavy book.

"Cash on delivery. Seventy yuan." She was short but stood with her chest puffed out, holding out her hand like she was trying to extort me.

"Are you crazy?" I pushed the book back at her. "What do I need this for? And seventy yuan for some stupid book? You might as well just kill me."

"It's the comprehensive dictionary you wanted!" she yelled, angrily slamming the book on my head. "Seventy yuan!"

I was about to talk back and kick her out, but the thought of Shang Yi and Xu Wanqing made me swallow my words.

Very reluctantly, I fished out seventy yuan and handed it over, hating them for so recklessly adding to our unnecessary expenses.

Whatever. If I had no money, neither did they. If we were going to starve, we'd starve together. If I was reduced to washing hair at a barbershop, they'd have to be right there with me, scratching people's scalps.

My uncle used to say I was very resilient, meaning no storm could ever break my spirit. I was as carefree as an immortal.

So with two goddesses living inside my body, they were the ones getting the short end of the stick. I couldn't offer them good food or fine drink, yet they were the ones acting as a "flower of the motherland" in my place.

So I placed the passbook my parents left me by my pillow, a silent but screaming reminder that they needed to be frugal.

After a moment's thought, I put my ID card there too.

I wrote down the PIN, and added a note: Burn after reading. Don't leave this under the pillow. I slept very restlessly.

In the middle of the night, I suddenly realized: Shang Yi seemed very rich.

Luckily, I reacted in time, or the money would have been gone.

I burned the note myself and hid the passbook somewhere safe.

But if Shang Yi wasn't willing to share her money with us—

I stroked the notebook by my pillow, and my spirits lifted when I saw Shang Yi's address.

If Xu Wanqing hadn't gone, then I could go meet her myself.

Maybe I could even build a tile-roofed house in the village before I graduated from primary school.

No sooner said than done. I packed a bag and put it in the corner of the room. I checked the time—it was too late today. I would leave on Saturday, the day after tomorrow.

---

When I woke up on Saturday, there was nothing new in the notebook, except that Shang Yi, acting as a role model, had written out the stroke order for the three characters of Xu Wanqing's name. She had demonstrated it stroke by stroke. I got another notebook and practiced copying it, and decided that Shang Yi was a good person.

From the town to the county, and then on to the city.

When I was little, my parents took me to a park in the city. I saw a big alligator and ate a sticky cotton candy that got all over my hands.

I didn't really know the way, but I was good at asking for directions. After changing buses several times, I finally stood at the foot of the skyscraper.

The building looked like a giant crab. People said the complex was built to imitate the Crab Nebula, but I didn't really understand. I had to ask several cleaning ladies before I found Tower A. 1209 meant the 12th floor. It was my first time seeing an elevator. Since no one else pressed the button for the twelfth floor, I was too embarrassed to reach out. I followed a group of men in suits up to the fifteenth floor, then looked for the stairs to climb back down.

I brought my ID card and passbook to prove I wasn't there to extort money. I also brought my red scarf and school ID to prove I was who I said I was, and that I was a minor who shouldn't be bullied. To avoid the possibility of Shang Yi not feeding me, I brought a cup of braised beef instant noodles and a bottle of cooled boiled water.

The door was glass, with English letters written on it that I couldn't read. To be honest, I still wasn't sure if there were 26 or 24 letters in the alphabet. I tried to identify the ones I recognized while mentally rehearsing what I was going to say.

Before I could knock, a girl carrying a baseball bat suddenly walked out.

She had dreadlocks, wore heavy eyeshadow, and was dressed in a baseball uniform. Her shoes didn't even match.

"Who are you looking for?"

Her tone was hostile when she saw me.

I shook my head nervously, trembling all over, unable to speak.

See? This is all you can expect from a country kid who's never seen the world. The moment I saw how fierce she looked, I chickened out and swallowed all the shrewish curses I had rehearsed in my head.

She was aggressive, her gaze intense. Thinking fast, I came up with an answer: "I'm looking for the bathroom."

She pointed. As if granted a royal pardon, I dashed over, slipped into a stall, and sat on the toilet lid.

I heard a toilet flush in the next stall.

Then a voice on the phone: "Say that again?"

"Oh, I see. Pay what needs to be paid. Did the deceased have any family? Get them settled."

From under the stall wall, I could see a pair of black stiletto heels pacing slowly, as if she intended to finish her business right there in the bathroom.

"The professor is here? Good. Keep going."

I couldn't help but let out a loud burp.

It wasn't because I was starving enough to eat shit, nor was it because I was full from eating shit.

I'd just drunk too much cold water.

The voice on the other side stopped abruptly, then seemed to continue the call without any concern.

I quietly lifted my feet so I couldn't be seen from under the stall.

After what felt as long as it takes to give birth, she finally left the stall.

I heard the main door close outside.

I still didn't dare to go out. I just sat cross-legged on the toilet lid, perfectly still, pretending I didn't exist.

But I had underestimated this woman. Before long, a few people came up with buzzing drills, talking to each other as if they wanted me to hear:

"Well, once we drill it open, whoever's inside will definitely come out."

"There's no one in there, don't worry. It's not safe if there is. One slip with this drill, and crunch—you could stab someone to death."

My face pale, I flushed the toilet to prove I was there.

"Come out." It was the woman's voice, soft and not at all fierce-sounding.

The moment I stepped out, I was so scared I tried to dive back in.

Two burly men stood on either side of me, one holding a chainsaw and the other a power drill. I nearly lost control of my bladder.

I went limp like a pile of mud and was dragged by the two men before the black high heels.

I looked up.

Shang Yi's soft black hair fell around her face as she looked down at me. "You're here?"

I'm here? What? Are we close?

I nodded. "Hello."

The chainsaw idled, making me feel like I was at the guillotine. I hurriedly pulled my ID card from my schoolbag and offered it to her respectfully. "My name is Zhang Xu. You… you might… know… me."

The sound of the chainsaw died. Shang Yi raised a hand, and the girl with the baseball bat grabbed me by the collar and dragged me out of the women's bathroom.

"Why were you eavesdropping?"

"I didn't… I didn't hear anything."

I was prepared to die.

A man's heart is never satisfied, just as a snake tries to swallow an elephant. I never should have been so greedy for the dream of a tile-roofed house.

"It wasn't easy for you to come all this way. You can sleep here tonight." Shang Yi pointed to a small partitioned room. "Have you eaten? Don't burp in the bathroom. It gives people the wrong idea."

I nodded, weeping with gratitude.

Standing next to the baseball girl was a pale, slender boy who looked almost like a girl. He was dressed impeccably in a suit and handed me a cup of hot water and two sandwiches.

Shang Yi glanced at me and handed over a comprehensive Chinese dictionary.

I ate demurely, stealing a glance at her and then at the dictionary, wondering what she was trying to say.

"Why did you want to see me?" Shang Yi asked.

"I don't know."

"Have you met Xu Wanqing?"

"No."

Shang Yi lost interest in me. Having entered my body and experienced my life, she had probably seen through me, inside and out, long ago.

The only mystery was Xu Wanqing.

As I finished eating and continued to burp—burping so much that the baseball girl found it unbearable and shot me a dirty look every minute—I suddenly realized that spending the night here meant Xu Wanqing would wake up face-to-face with Shang Yi.

If they didn't get along, and Shang Yi wasn't using my body to move around, she might order those two burly men to dismember me on the spot.

By the time I'd thought this through, it was already evening. I didn't even dare to grab my schoolbag. I slipped out of the office—no one was guarding it—ran down the stairs, and walked out the main entrance.

But I really was too slow. I had spent too much time thinking. My mind went blank, and just as I stepped out the main entrance, I stumbled and fell flat on my face, stiff as a board.

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