Amid the crackling of firecrackers, the New Year arrived.
City C experienced snowfall every winter, which was the happiest time for children.
Outside, a vast expanse of silver-white blanketed everything. Before the New Year, Chen Hu had received a beating from his hot-tempered father, who grabbed him and thrashed him upon seeing his exam paper.
Chen Hu had scored fifty points, ranking last in their preschool class.
The little chubby boy’s wails, reminiscent of a slaughtered pig, nearly echoed throughout the entire neighborhood. Zhao Zhilan shook her head, somewhat amused. "That child’s voice has such penetrating power."
The New Year became Chen Hu’s get-out-of-jail-free card. Although his lucky money was confiscated, at least his hot-tempered father stopped hitting him.
Chen Hu led a group of children from the neighborhood out to play, with six or seven boys trailing behind him in a grand procession. Among them were two boys two years older than him, though neither was as sturdy as the chubby kid.
Li Da said, "Let’s go find Minmin."
Chen Hu thought for a moment. "We’re catching birds and setting off firecrackers—no playing with girls." But then, recalling Fang Minjun’s pretty and elegant appearance, he agreed, "Alright, let’s go find her."
All the boys from the old-style neighborhood were here, except for Pei Chuan. The architecture in their area was particularly old and distinctive, somewhat resembling a large courtyard, though the buildings were a bit taller.
In summer, the southern wall would be covered in ivy, but now it was coated with a layer of ice crystals.
Finding someone here was especially easy—just stand downstairs and shout at the top of your lungs: "Fang Minjun—"
The children’s voices rose and fell downstairs. After calling for Fang Minjun, Chen Hu remembered he had eaten Bei Yao’s apple. So, he led the group to continue shouting: "Bei Yao—"
Their clear, youthful voices could be heard throughout the entire neighborhood.
Across the street, Pei Chuan was making dumplings with his mother, Jiang Wenjuan. Initially, Jiang Wenjuan had only intended to give him something to do. After all, Pei Chuan had finished his preschool winter homework in just two days. Since other children wouldn’t actively include a "burden" in their play, Jiang Wenjuan felt heartbroken and could only spare some time to accompany her son herself.
Yet Pei Chuan lowered his gaze, his pale fingers pinching the dumpling folds with practiced ease. He was always like this—quick to learn anything.
This only made Jiang Wenjuan’s heart ache more. On the night Pei Chuan brought his exam paper home, she had cried silently into her quilt until midnight. Pei Chuan was the only one in the preschool class to score a perfect hundred. Her son was so clever and outstanding, yet he had been robbed of his legs, his life largely ruined.
Pei Chuan had been focused on making dumplings, but when he heard the rising and falling calls for Bei Yao downstairs, the dumpling in his hand tore slightly.
His dark eyes calmly observed it before he pinched the tear closed.
Jiang Wenjuan, who had been watching him closely, noticed immediately. No children would actively seek Pei Chuan out to play. After all, children were like carefree birds—they couldn’t push him, nor would they be willing to wheel his heavy wheelchair along.
Fearing her son might feel upset, Jiang Wenjuan said, "Let’s stop making dumplings. How about Mom takes you outside to play?"
Pei Chuan’s lips parted slightly. He wanted to refuse, but in the end, he said nothing. At five years old, he still held expectations and yearnings for the world—he too wanted to go out and see the snow.
Jiang Wenjuan washed her hands and wheeled Pei Chuan outside.
About a hundred meters north of the neighborhood stood a teahouse, where the faint scent of smoke lingered and people gathered to play mahjong.
Jiang Wenjuan wasn’t going to play mahjong; she merely wanted to wheel Pei Chuan over to see the lively scene, as children often played around there too.
Tall cypress trees were laden with snow, and beneath them, the joyful laughter of children filled the air.Pei Chuan’s wheelchair was placed to the side. Someone in the teahouse called out, “Dr. Jiang, here to join the fun?” Their fleeting gaze swept over Pei Chuan, and they would also sympathetically call out, “Little Chuan.”
“Yes, you all play. I’ll just watch.”
Pei Chuan’s gaze stretched beyond the cypress tree, settling on the little girl covering her eyes.
Bei Yao wore her own red padded jacket, her small hands pressed tightly over her eyes. Chen Hu led Fang Minjun, crouching and darting into alleyways to hide. The little girl’s clear, bright voice called out, “3, 2, 1… I’m coming to find you!”
She laughed as she uncovered her eyes, but her first glance met the gaze of the boy in the wheelchair.
He was the first to look away.
Bei Yao’s eyes sparkled. She still couldn’t decipher the little secrets in her notebook, but that didn’t stop her from feeling close to Pei Chuan. She wanted to talk to him, but throughout the entire semester, Pei Chuan had barely acknowledged her. Besides, she had to find the other children first, so she toddled off on her short legs to search for Chen Hu and the others.
Chen Hu was quite the troublemaker. He had led everyone into the warehouse beside the teahouse, which was piled high with nylon sacks.
The children crouched inside, and Bei Yao searched for what felt like an eternity without finding them.
She had always been good-natured since she was little. After searching the area in circles, she was panting with exhaustion. She lifted curtains and parted bushes, but there was nothing inside. Pei Chuan watched coldly.
The cypress tree rustled, shaking a layer of snow onto the girl’s face.
The icy snow melted against her warm skin, trickling down her cheeks like tears. She scrambled out, looking disheveled, her almond-shaped eyes glistening as if she had been bullied to the point of tears.
Pei Chuan’s fingers tightened on his wheelchair. After a long while, as Bei Yao passed by him, still searching, he whispered, “In the warehouse.”
His voice was soft, as if muffled by long-buried snow, strained and stiff.
Bei Yao turned back to look at him in a daze. He kept a cold expression, as though he had said nothing at all.
She turned and headed toward the warehouse, her small hands pushing aside the nylon sacks to reveal a row of crouching children.
Chen Hu, faced with little Bei Yao’s smiling face, was instantly stunned, then erupted into a roar, “Bei Yao, you must have peeked!”
“I didn’t peek.”
“I don’t believe you! You cheated!”
The little chubby boy was like a lit firecracker. It was Li Da who, glancing at the flustered little Bei Yao, spoke up, “Who did you see first?”
Pei Chuan’s gaze drifted through the open warehouse door.
Bei Yao looked at the aggrieved little chubby boy, who seemed on the verge of tears from anger. Softly, she said, “I didn’t see anyone.”
She thought to herself, as a big sister with memories of third grade, she shouldn’t bully the little kids.
She covered her eyes again. “Go hide.”
Chen Hu breathed a sigh of relief and dashed off. Fang Minjun quickly followed, and the children scattered to hide.
Pei Chuan pressed his lips tightly together, frustration churning inside him. He had interfered unnecessarily.
They hadn’t included him in their game to begin with. He shouldn’t have said anything.
Bei Yao uncovered her eyes and went to find the other children. He shot her a cold glance, then tugged at Jiang Wenjuan’s sleeve with his pale fingers. “Mom, let’s go home.”
Seeing Aunt Jiang push Pei Chuan away, Bei Yao blinked her almond-shaped eyes. What happened? She hadn’t even thanked him yet.
~
Zhao Zhilan was playing mahjong at a table in the teahouse with Zhao Xiu. Zhao Xiu’s luck was poor today; she kept playing tiles right into Zhao Zhilan’s hands. Irritated, she took a sip of hot water. “Next year, my Minmin and Zhilan’s Yaoyao will both be starting first grade, right? Kids grow up so fast.”The mahjong tiles clattered noisily as Zhao Zhilan arranged her hand. "Yes."
"Zhilan, don't be discouraged. If Yao Yao really can't keep up with the curriculum, she could always repeat the preschool year. After all, she's still young."
Zhao Zhilan was baffled. "What are you talking about?"
"Didn't Yao Yao do poorly on her final exam? I heard she barely passed. Don't push her too hard—I think a solid foundation is most important. I originally thought the same for Minmin—if she didn't do well, she'd repeat a year. But when the test papers came back, Minmin scored 90! So she should have no problem continuing to first grade."
Zhao Zhilan finally caught the underlying meaning. She shot Zhao Xiu a sidelong glance. "Who told you my Yao Yao barely passed?"
Zhao Xiu thought to herself, Keep pretending, just keep pretending.
Zhao Zhilan drew a tile and beamed with delight. "She's been very good this year—she only missed a perfect score by one point! She got 99!"
Zhao Xiu was stunned.
The other two women at the table exclaimed in surprise and praise, "Oh, this child will go far in the future."
Zhao Xiu's face darkened. "Zhao Zhilan, you don't have to make up lies to fool people, do you?"
"Why would I need to lie to you? If you don't believe me, go ask Teacher Yu. The teacher has the score records."
Zhao Xiu knew this was true—such a lie would be exposed immediately, and Zhao Zhilan wasn't foolish enough to try it. So did that mean that little Bei Yao really scored 99?
Recalling what she had just said, Zhao Xiu felt utterly humiliated. To make matters worse, the other two women at the table, oblivious to the tension, gave Zhao Xiu strange looks before heaping praise on Zhao Zhilan's clever and bright daughter.
Fuming, Zhao Xiu silently slammed down mahjong tiles. This was the first time since childhood that Zhao Zhilan had ever bested her.
The feeling was both shameful and frustrating. She wished she could drag Fang Minjun, who was playing outside, over and demand an explanation.
~
The New Year passed quickly, and the festive atmosphere of childhood felt especially rich.
Eating candy and sunflower seeds while watching TV was pure bliss. Bei Yao was happy every day, though sometimes she'd rest her chin in her hands and gaze at the house across the street, wondering, Why haven't I seen Pei Chuan come out to play today?
Fang Minjun had been scolded by her mother and cried until her face was streaked with tears. She sobbed in defense, "90 points is a lot! Chen Hu only got 50!"
"I wanted you to beat Bei Yao!"
"Mom, I'll do it next time," she sniffled. "Besides Bei Yao, I had the highest score."
Zhao Xiu thought it over and realized this was true—Fang Minjun had at least scored 90. The other children in the neighborhood were all unruly brats. The only one whose score was unknown was that leg-disabled child from the Pei family, but what could you expect from a child like that? He probably failed too.
Zhao Xiu could only poke Fang Minjun's head and say, "After the New Year, you must study hard, understand?"
Fang Minjun quickly nodded.
When spring arrived, the second semester of preschool began. Childhood years always slipped by joyfully.
In little Bei Yao's eyes, Fang Minjun remained aloof, chubby Chen Hu's voice was grating, and Pei Chuan in the corner never initiated conversation with her again—as if the day he whispered to her about the warehouse had been an illusion.
In the final month of preschool, the school announced a new policy: henceforth, exams would be abolished for preschool!
Children like Chen Hu in the class were overjoyed.Most of the other children were delighted to learn they wouldn't have to take final exams. Only Fang Minjun worriedly thought: If there are no exams, does that mean I'll have to wait until first grade to surpass Bei Yao?
By the time Teacher Yu Qian sent off this group of children, summer had arrived. They still resembled newly sprouted seedlings, each one tender and fresh.
No one knew what they would become when they grew up, nor where their paths would lead.
She waved at the children: "Do your best in elementary school, kids!"
These children, who had transformed from knowing nothing to understanding rules, all obediently responded in agreement.
Pei Chuan was six years old.
His legs hadn't grown back as his mother had promised they would 'when he grew up'. Every night before bed, he would look at his incomplete limbs, but they never did grow back.
Before entering first grade, he overheard Jiang Wenjuan and Pei Haobin arguing.
Jiang Wenjuan sneered: "There won't be any teachers in first grade who can help Xiao Chuan go to the bathroom!"
"I told you I'll ask the teachers for help, give them gifts to assist him!"
"You can ask for help for one year, but what about after that? What about fifth and sixth grade! Middle school and high school! Can you ask for help his whole life! I'll find a hospital to fit Xiao Chuan with prosthetic legs. I'd rather go bankrupt than see him stand on his feet again!"
"Juan'er, don't be impulsive. Xiao Chuan is still too young..."
Pei Chuan looked at his empty trouser legs.
He wanted to say that ever since that incident in kindergarten, he hadn't let any teachers help him go to the bathroom.
He didn't understand what "prosthetic legs" meant, but he understood the words "stand on his feet again."
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