January 25, 1992, Dagou Village.
It was still dark outside, but the ground shimmered with a silvery light.
Cheng Jin Nian yanked open the thin, translucent curtains. The single pane of glass did little to block the cold, and the wind from outside seeped through the cracks, making him shiver. He stared at the ground outside. “It’s snowing.”
He didn’t dare delay, afraid that Song Hao would leave without him and not let him go.
He pulled the light cord by the bed. The tungsten bulb flickered, and Cheng Jin Nian’s heart skipped a beat as he thought, ‘Don’t go out.’ Thankfully, the bulb steadied and stayed lit, not popping and dying.
Thank heavens.
“A good start,” Cheng Jin Nian said as he pulled his padded trousers and sweater out from under the covers.
He had kept them in his quilt all night, but they hadn’t retained a bit of warmth.
There was a noise in the courtyard outside. Cheng Jin Nian, busy scrambling into his clothes, didn’t pay it much mind until a knock on the main room’s door made him jump. Before he could call out, “Who is it?” a voice sounded from outside.
“It’s me. Don’t rush. It’s snowing, and it looks pretty heavy. Wear something thick.”
Cheng Jin Nian recognized Song Hao’s voice from the single word “me.” Halfway through brushing his teeth, he went to open the door. Song Hao stood outside, a chill emanating from him, snowflakes still dusting his Leifeng hat. He spoke first, “Go on and finish brushing. Are you using cold or hot water?”
“Hot,” Cheng Jin Nian mumbled through a mouthful of foam. “Did you forget you were the one who boiled it and filled the thermos last night?”
Song Hao didn’t nag, changing the subject instead. “It’s cold and snowing. I was thinking of just going to the city by myself—”
“You dare!” Cheng Jin Nian bristled, his eyebrows shooting up as he glared at Song Hao.
The ‘scolding’ only made Song Hao happier. “I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare. Isn’t this why I came to get you? I knew you’d be afraid I’d sneak off alone, so you’d definitely be up early. If I ran off, you’d be angry and ignore me.”
“Good that you know.” Cheng Jin Nian gave his face a quick wipe with a hot towel and briskly pulled on his jacket. “I’m ready!”
He was quick and efficient, slipping on his cotton-padded shoes and dashing out the door.
Song Hao grabbed him from behind. “Your scarf, your hat. Don’t you want your ears anymore?” He took the Leifeng hat off his own head and plopped it onto Nian Nian’s. He wasn’t wearing a scarf, finding it too hot.
The big hat was warm, carrying Song Hao’s high body temperature. Placed on Cheng Jin Nian’s head, it nearly swallowed his face. Feeling the warmth, Cheng Jin Nian looked up at Song Hao. Before he could speak, the other boy knew what he was going to say.
“I know, I’ll wear yours. Let’s go.” Song Hao took the scarf and tied it for Nian Nian, mimicking the way his sister-in-law tied a scarf on his nephew, covering the entire lower half of Nian Nian’s face, including his nose and mouth.
Cheng Jin Nian: …
“Hot,” he mumbled.
Song Hao: “It’s not. It’ll be cold once we’re outside.”
Cheng Jin Nian’s woolen hat had become a bit stiff from washing. Plus, his head was small—actually, it was a hat his mother, Du Hongxia, had knitted for him when he was only thirteen.
Five years had passed, and now Cheng Jin Nian was eighteen. The woolen hat was a little tight even for him. On Song Hao’s head, it was like wearing a golden hoop.
And Song Hao didn’t like things constricting him.
Sure enough, though he said he’d wear it, he left without putting on the hat.
“Song Hao, just go ahead and freeze into a popsicle!”
“Nian Nian, don’t be mad. I’ll just wrap the scarf around my head, okay?” Song Hao demonstrated by wrapping the scarf around himself for Nian Nian to see.
Cheng Jin Nian stood on his tiptoes and reached up to wrap Song Hao’s head like an auntie selling eggs. Only then was he satisfied.
Song Hao: …As long as Nian Nian is happy.
As they talked, their hands didn’t stop moving. Song Hao locked the Cheng family’s door and pocketed the key, as Nian Nian sometimes forgot where he’d put it. Cheng Jin Nian grabbed a flashlight but didn’t turn it on to light the way. Their own door connected to the village path, a path the two of them had run on since they were children. Why would they need a flashlight? Better to save the batteries.
In the glow of the snow-covered ground, a tricycle was parked at the gate of the Cheng family’s courtyard. It was loaded with goods wrapped in an old, discarded bedsheet, tied into a bundle and piled to one side. It was impossible to see what was inside.
Cheng Jin Nian took one look. “Why did you bring your quilt?”
“Hurry up and get in and wrap yourself up. You might not be cold now, but if you sit still for a while, your feet will freeze off.” Song Hao got on the tricycle and turned his head, waiting for Nian Nian to get settled.
A warmth spread through Cheng Jin Nian’s heart as he climbed into the cart.
“Don’t take your shoes off. Don’t worry about it being dirty, I’ll clean it up later.”
“I also filled a hot water bottle. Be careful not to burn yourself when you get in. Hold it to your chest to keep warm.”
Cheng Jin Nian tucked himself into the quilt and grumbled, “Just keep spoiling me.” His voice was so soft it seemed the wind and snow could blow it away, but Song Hao heard him. On the tricycle seat, the corners of Song Hao’s mouth curved up uncontrollably. This was nothing.
Spoiling Nian Nian was the most natural and proper thing in the world for him to do.
“You settled?”
“Mhm.”
Song Hao pushed down on the pedal, and the tricycle crunched over the accumulated snow.
Cheng Jin Nian gazed at Song Hao’s back, his cheeks rosy beneath the scarf.
The wind and snow grew stronger.
The village road was a dirt path, but thankfully, the snow made it easier to travel. If it had been raining and muddy, that would have been difficult, with the wheels getting stuck in mud pits, requiring one person to pull from the front and another to push from behind.
The two were familiar with the village roads and wouldn’t tip over even without a flashlight. Once they left the village, Cheng Jin Nian, in the cart, took out the flashlight to shine a light, but Song Hao said, “It’s fine, I know the way. Don’t turn it on yet. Quick, put your hands back in. Are you cold? Don’t let your hands get frostbitten.”
“I’m not cold. Are you?” Cheng Jin Nian asked.
Song Hao: “Not cold. Really. I’m moving, so I’ll be sweating in a bit. You’re just sitting, so you must be cold.”
“I’m not cold either,” Cheng Jin Nian said.
The two chatted idly, their basketful of nonsense never feeling dull. Song Hao was doing some mental calculations. After selling this last load of goods, Nian Nian was coming into the city with him today, so he could buy Nian Nian some new clothes.
“I’m not a child anymore,” Cheng Jin Nian protested. “Why spend money on that?”
Song Hao: “Nonsense. It’s almost New Year’s. All the other kids have new clothes, so my Nian Nian has to have them too. You’ll wear them. We have money. Don’t worry, I’ve already saved up your tuition fees.”
“Then we’ll buy some for you too.”
Song Hao thought: It’s a waste for me to wear such new clothes.
But he couldn’t say that, or his Nian Nian would get angry. So he changed the subject. “We’ll buy some New Year’s goods then, too. You like candy, let’s get some Dragon’s Beard Candy.”
“And Spring Festival couplets, the character for ‘fortune,’ incense, and joss paper. We have to buy those too. It’s cold this year, so we should burn some thick padded clothes for Auntie. An old lady in the next village knows how to make them out of paper. I’ve already placed an order, we can pick them up on our way back…”
On the morning of New Year’s Eve, Song Hao and Cheng Jin Nian would go to pay respects at Du Hongxia’s grave.
Du Hongxia had passed away in the spring of 1988 from tuberculosis, the same illness as her mother. She had only lived for thirty-six years. Cheng Jin Nian’s maternal grandmother had died even younger, also in her thirties, as he had heard his mother mention.
Everyone in Dagou Village knew about the Du family’s affairs.
Cheng Jin Nian’s maternal grandfather had married two wives. His biological grandmother, Cai Qiao’er, was the first. She gave birth to three daughters, his mother being the eldest. After the youngest aunt was born, his grandfather saw it was another girl and lost interest. When his grandmother fell ill, he dragged his feet on getting her treatment. After a few months of coughing, she was gone.
At that time, his youngest aunt was only a few months old. Unable to raise her, his grandfather gave her away to be raised by another family.
Cheng Jin Nian had heard his mother talk about it. Every time, she would say she hated her grandfather—hated him for not getting her mother medical treatment, hated him for sending her little sister away, hated him for beating her and making her do endless chores.
But then his mother’s tone would shift, and she would say that back then, they were eating from the communal pot and earning work points. The Du family only had his grandfather as a man to earn three or four work points. There wasn’t enough grain to eat, so it was normal to want a son.
Not long after his biological grandmother passed away, his grandfather married his second wife, a widow from the deep mountains who brought two sons, fourteen or fifteen years old, who were perfect for working in the fields.
In any case, with all the Du family’s troubles, Du Hongxia was not close to her own father while she was alive, and there was no way for them to become close. In 1970, during the Down to the Countryside Movement, Cheng Jin Nian’s father, Cheng Haijun, arrived in Dagou Village. That year, Du Hongxia was eighteen, known throughout the village as a beautiful, vibrant girl.
Du Hongxia was virtuous and capable, and she had a favorable impression of the educated Cheng Haijun.
The two naturally got together and married.
Cheng Haijun was an Educated Youth sent to the countryside, not someone undergoing labor reform. The village chief and villagers of Dagou Village took good care of him, allocating him a house and letting him settle down in Dagou Village with Du Hongxia.
In 1986, during the wave of Educated Youth returning to the cities, the Cheng family sent a letter, hoping their son would return. A job had already been arranged. Cheng Haijun promised his wife and child that he would go back to the city to check on the situation first, and once his job was settled, he would come to get them. Cheng Jin Nian was twelve years old that year.
And later… well.
The snow stopped.
Cheng Jin Nian shone the flashlight on the road ahead of the tricycle. Before Song Hao could even open his mouth, he said, “My hands are tucked in my sleeves, I’m not cold. You watch the road.”
“Da Song, are you cold?”
Song Hao: “Not cold. My forehead is covered in sweat.”
“You can’t take off the scarf either. Otherwise, when you’re all hot and you take it off, the cold wind on your forehead will give you a headache.” Cheng Jin Nian knew what Song Hao was about to say.
He just knew it!
“Fine, I won’t take it off. I’ll listen to you.” Song Hao forced his hand, which had been about to pull at the scarf on his head, to stop.
Dagou Village was located more than thirty li west of Baoping City. In 1992, only the city center of Baoping was bustling and prosperous; the other areas were all gray and poor.
Baoping City was a small northern city. Fourteen years had passed since the country’s Reform and Opening Up in December 1978, but Baoping City’s economy was still developing at a ‘steady and solid’ but slow pace.
There were no streetlights on the road from Dagou Village to the city. A section of it was still a dirt road, full of potholes. With the snow, it was muddy and difficult to navigate. Cheng Jin Nian jumped down to push the tricycle from behind.
“I’m cold sitting in the cart. I’ll warm up by moving around,” Cheng Jin Nian said loudly, pre-empting him. “Da Song, you said it yourself: working isn’t cold, sitting is.”
Song Hao: …
The snow had stopped, but the north wind still blew. The accumulated snow on the bare branches of the trees by the road was rustled off by the wind. Cheng Jin Nian’s voice, gentle and mild, was not scattered by the wind but carried a certain strength.
Song Hao said no more, standing up and pedaling with even more force.
One person in front pedaled with all his might, one person behind pushed with all his might. On the desolate and remote road, under the dark, heavy sky, the single beam of the flashlight bobbed up and down, yet it illuminated the path forward for them both.
After an unknown amount of time, the tricycle’s tire felt ‘lighter.’ Song Hao, in front, shouted, “The road’s better, Nian Nian! We’re on the cement road. Quick, get on and rest. Are you cold? Are your feet wet?”
“No, I’m all sweaty from walking. My back is sweating.” Cheng Jin Nian climbed back into the cart, not arguing with Da Song that he could keep pushing for a while longer.
Song Hao: “Then cover yourself with the quilt for a bit. Don’t let the cold wind blow directly on you.”
“Alright, Da Song, you’re using my own words against me.”
The two of them laughed.
The sky gradually brightened. The rest of the way was smooth, and after riding for nearly another hour, Song Hao finally reached the city. Based on his experience from the last few times he sold goods, he stopped at his usual spot.
The sky was still ‘dark,’ and a few other tricycles were scattered nearby.
It was Cheng Jin Nian’s first time selling goods with Da Song. He was curious and wanted to see what the others were selling, hoping it wouldn’t clash with Da Song’s merchandise. He looked at each one, nodding his head from time to time, his eyes growing brighter and brighter.
Beside him, Song Hao watched Nian Nian and couldn’t help but break into a smile. His Nian Nian wore all his thoughts on his face.
‘Oh, oh, oh, this one’s selling cured meat, no conflict.’ ‘That one’s selling couplets, that’s fine.’ ‘And there’s one selling scarves’—he smiled smugly.
Song Hao thought: Hehe, the first time I went to Zhushi and came back, I sold scarves and small trinkets.
That was four years ago. Aunt Hongxia had passed away. On her deathbed, she was still thinking of Uncle Haijun, telling Nian Nian to go to Zhushi to find his father, to go to school there, be acknowledged by his ancestors, and live a good life. At the time, Song Hao felt that Aunt Hongxia was being a little too optimistic.
If Cheng Haijun truly cared about Nian Nian and Aunt Hongxia, he should have sent for them as soon as he settled down in Zhushi. But after he left, he sent letters at first, but later, when Aunt Hongxia fell gravely ill, Nian Nian was at a loss. The letters he sent went unanswered, and when he called, he was told there was no such person.
His eldest sister-in-law said he didn’t understand. How could Aunt Hongxia not see the truth? It was just that she was dying and was worried about her son, wanting to secure an opportunity for him. The love between husband and wife was gone, but Nian Nian was a boy, a descendant of the Cheng family after all.
What if the Cheng family took Cheng Jin Nian in? Then Cheng Jin Nian would be a city person, able to go to good schools, wear leather shoes, and attend university. Here in the village, Cheng Jin Nian was only fourteen. Even if he was good at his studies, he was dirt poor. Where would he get the money for tuition?
The words made Song Hao’s heart ache with a mix of anger and pain. He was angry at Cheng Haijun for his lack of responsibility, for all the years he had wasted calling him ‘Uncle.’ And he ached for his Nian Nian—
At sixteen, Song Hao had declared that he would support Nian Nian and earn his tuition fees.
From then on, he and Cheng Jin Nian would be family.
In 1988, just after the New Year in early spring, it was freezing. After Du Hongxia’s funeral was over, sixteen-year-old Song Hao, carrying a bundle and one hundred and forty yuan, took fourteen-year-old Cheng Jin Nian to Zhushi.
At sixteen, Song Hao was already 1.8 meters tall. With his high brow bone pressing down on his eye sockets, he had a ‘fierce and menacing’ air when he kept a straight face in the village. He had been a bold leader among the children since he was young, and he was very strong. His second brother, Song Weijun, had served in the army, and after being demobilized and returning to the village, he had even taught Song Hao some fighting skills.
Song Hao was holding in his anger. He had to go and reason with the Cheng family for Nian Nian’s sake. What if Nian Nian went to Zhushi alone and was bullied by them!
He did as he said.
The two of them were audacious. One dared to take someone on a long journey, and the other actually dared to follow.
Cheng Jin Nian was meticulous. Worried that the Song family would be anxious, he specifically left a note explaining the situation.
Song Hao thought for a moment and said, “We can’t leave this note. Otherwise, before we even get out of the township, my second brother will ride his bike and catch us. I already told them I was going to take you to Zhushi.”
But the Song family hadn’t taken it seriously, thinking their third son was just speaking out of anger.
Song Hao was the third child in his family, with two older brothers, a younger sister, and a younger brother. His parents had five children in total.
But Cheng Jin Nian was still worried. He looked at Song Hao. They couldn’t let the Song family worry themselves sick. What if they fell ill from anxiety?
Song Hao’s heart softened, and he came up with an idea: “Tuck the note under your door, leaving half of it sticking out. We’re so close we’re always together. If they can’t find me, they’ll definitely come to your house to look for me, and then they’ll see it.”
It was indeed a good idea. By the time Song Hao and Cheng Jin Nian had bought their train tickets and were on their way to Zhushi, the Song family finally realized their third son was missing.
Fortunately, the two of them arrived in Zhushi safely and soundly.
No strangers bullied them on the way. In fact, a kind auntie, seeing that Cheng Jin Nian was handsome and well-behaved but looked pale, even gave him an orange to eat.
When they arrived in Zhushi, the ones who bullied them were Cheng Jin Nian’s own blood relatives.