You asked me if I believe in love at first sight, where two pairs of eyes meet and sparks fly, eyes full of the sparks of attraction. Ten years ago, I believed in it, and I stubbornly thought that love that grows over time wasn’t real love. Even now, I still believe in it, although the last ten years of ups and downs have finally made me realize that it would never happen to me. When I first met Wu Di, I was eighteen, and he was twenty. The moment I saw Wu Di, I was desperately trying to squeeze onto a train home for the winter break. Amid the struggle, a button on my coat popped off, forcing me to leave it open, and the elastic band I used to tie my hair snapped, leaving my hair in a mess. I was in complete disarray. I felt like the train station was a magical broken box; no matter how impressive you were outside, once inside the station, you were no different from a migrant worker. And despite over a decade of family planning, there was no sign that China’s population was decreasing. I was like a drowning ant, struggling in the crowd, dragging two suitcases nearly as heavy as myself, watching the train door get further away. Suddenly, I felt my load lighten, and I shouted out, “Damn, who’s stealing my luggage?” Turning around, I met a pair of gentle eyes and a handsome soldier whose looks were indescribable. He smiled, showing a row of neat white teeth, “Sorry, classmate, did I scare you? Let me help you with that!” My ferocious expression persisted out of inertia and didn’t retract immediately. Watching him take my bag, I felt a pang of regret, TNND, God, why didn’t you send him when I was at my best!
Wu Di, like me, had come from our small, picturesque town, scattered across the country by the magical wand of the college entrance exam to shine and contribute. He was studying at a military academy in Xi’an and was transferring trains in Beijing when he met me. On the journey, I wasn’t shy; I scrutinized his handsome face from top to bottom, not missing even the small black mole behind his ear. Several times when he spoke to me, I was so captivated that I could only manage a quick, “Uh-huh, yeah,” in response. I was pleasantly surprised to find that he seemed to have taken a liking to me as well. That night, amidst the clanging sounds of the train, I rested my head on his shoulder, pretending to sleep, and he sat there like a soldier at attention, not moving an inch. I chuckled to myself, silly soldier, you’re mine now. Then I remembered Xu Ling’s comment about me, “Li Zheng, you’re kind of a pervert!” Xu Ling was my childhood friend; she knew me when my name on the household registration was still Li Zheng, later simplified to Li Zheng in the long process of writing it as punishment in elementary school. My parents couldn’t argue with me, so a perfectly feminine name was altered, along with my personality, and Xu Ling was the only witness to all of this. Actually, what I’m trying to say is that Xu Ling has known me for so long; her assessment of me is undoubtedly authoritative. As a child, I was cunningly mischievous. In the eyes of adults, I was a well-behaved little girl; in the eyes of the neighborhood kids, I was their undisputed leader. At six, I was already leading the children to play on the railroad tracks, pressing metal pieces or small items onto the rails to collect the flattened metal shapes after the train passed, which looked like metal paintings. Most of the time, we just picked up a stone from the side and placed it on the track, and the sparks that flew when the train passed were spectacular. My grandmother found out and gave me a beating, fearing that one of the kids might crawl under the train. After a brief calm, I took them to swim in a pond five miles away, which ended with one child nearly drowning. Once I started school, under the strict surveillance of my mother, who was a teacher, and her colleagues, I went into a long period of dormancy. Perhaps because I had been dormant for too long, my heart suddenly awakened one night. In high school, I was amazed to see that the little snot-nosed boys I used to look down upon had turned into handsome young men overnight. Not only were they good-looking, but they were also good at studying and sports, often sweating on the playground in their little vests, filling the air with their hormones. Overnight, I developed crushes on three of the most handsome boys in our class. I told Xu Ling, “Who am I? If I don’t win them over, I’m not Li Zheng!” Sure enough, within three days, they all became my buddies. They had no objections to my involvement in their matters, and I was always there to help them, especially with passing notes or messages to girls, which they were too shy to do themselves. At the graduation dinner, when they all brought their girlfriends, I realized I was just a fool! They got drunk, left arm in arm, and I couldn’t even find someone to cry to. Xu Ling was referring to this inglorious episode of my life.
When I met her again during the winter break, I brought up Wu Di, saying, “When I met Wu Di, I finally understood what it means to feel a heartbeat; this time, my first love has really arrived!” Xu Ling was blunt, “Come on, when isn’t it your first love? According to incomplete statistics, Li Zheng, you’ve had your first love twenty-five times!” I didn’t bother explaining; she was just jealous! The winter break was quite fun; Wu Di took Xu Ling and me to have lots of fun. Initially, I thought Wu Di was shy, blushing at the slightest thing. Later, after getting to know him better, I found out he was timid with girls but bold outside. When we went out, he only wore his uniform, and if there was something we couldn’t handle, he would wave his officer’s ID. Most of the time, the public still respected the soldiers. Occasionally, if someone didn’t, Xu Ling and I would step in to play the bad cop. For a while, we roamed the town, occasionally helping small vendors. I told Wu Di, “You missed the good old days; if it weren’t for liberation, you’d definitely be a righteous bandit, robbing the rich to help the poor.” He blinked, “You’re just saying I’m like a bandit, right? Bandits are just unorganized armed forces; it’s the same thing.” We, Xu Ling and I, found his reactionary remarks quite disdainful, not at all fitting the image of the red and expert soldiers we had in mind. That was how I met Wu Di, not particularly dramatic, but it did fit the cliché of a hero saving the damsel in distress, followed by the damsel giving herself to the hero.
Chapter 2
I thought of Wu Di again ten years later because Xu Ling came to visit. After graduating, she taught for a few years at a school back home, had a falling out with her small man, got divorced, and, not content with the quiet life, decided to come to the bustling capital to stay with me. Speaking of which, I’ve always dreamed of becoming a teacher.
What other profession allows you to ramble on for an entire class, with a room full of listeners not daring to even fart while you forcefully instill your worldview onto them, and they still pay you money for it? Watching my mom command the classroom with such authority, I understood how she held the power of life and death over our household; if my dad dared to disagree, she could lecture him for a solid forty-five minutes without repeating a single sentence! I shared this observation with Xu Ling, encouraging her to stick with her current job. She looked wronged and said, “Do you think kids these days are as dumb as we were back then? They’re already climbing over teachers if they don’t get their way, and you can’t hit or scold them anymore, or the parents will never let it go!” And so, Xu Ling moved into my place.
