The Child's Past Life

by Cai Jun

  Mr. An, the political science teacher, was like a fly who kept pestering Xiaozhi. She sometimes talked to him, being neither warm nor cold. The wind picked up the hem of her floral-print dress and showed her shapely legs. The boys sneaked a peek while the girls looked on with jealousy.

  There wasn’t much entertainment on the island. All the students played in the sea regardless of whether they swam. Si Wang’s fit muscles were the most eye-catching on the beach, embarrassing the couch potatoes and beanpoles. Girls came over to say hi, but he acted cool, collecting shells by himself.

  Xiaozhi didn’t even bring a swimsuit, so she sat and chatted with a few female teachers. Many were disappointed.

  The refreshing sea breeze made everyone forget about the heat. A lot of people got sick from eating the seafood, including Zhang Mingsong and Mr. An.

  Xiaozhi didn’t eat much, but she walked around the fishing village. She picked the remote corners of the island, going from the trees to the beach.

  A clear moon sat over the horizon.

  She wanted to lay down on the beach to remember the sight. The round moon was almost golden between the sea and the sky.

  Suddenly, a pair of hands gripped her from behind. She screamed and got away. Another hand reached out. She struggled. Her assailants were local thugs.

  “Let her go!” Si Wang came out of the woods, the moon illuminating his face.

  Xiaozhi ran to his side. “Help me!”

  There were four of them. They told Si Wang to mind his own business. But he crept closer to them and hit one to the ground. His muscles looked ready to explode. The thugs bled profusely after a few Thai boxing moves. Xiaozhi kept shouting for help, but the night beach was quiet and the surging tides covered her voice.

  But after about five minutes, two of the men were on the ground and the other two ran off.

  Si Wang told her to go. She was sure the bad guys were getting help. Who knew how many more would show up?

  Wind blew at them in the dark night. Her hair and skirt flew around her like a blossom of the sea. She couldn’t run more than a few steps. Si Wang had to drag her to a hill. Her wrist was so hot it was burning.

  Finally they got to the other side of the island. No one would find them on this side.

  Moonlight chased their shadows, the seawater kept surging. White foam lapped at their feet and wet the edges of her dress. His forehead and arm bled; the blood dripped onto the sand. He was still standing stick straight.

  She took big gulps and mumbled, “Thank you.”

  “Why were you by yourself?”

  “It was too quiet inside. I wanted to listen to the sea.”

  “The sea?”

  “Yes, I could hear it.”

  Xiaozhi listened with her eyes closed. Si Wang got closer to her, almost close enough to kiss her.

  She retreated half a step but stayed close enough to touch his wounds. “Si Wang, listen to me—you can’t get into fights anymore.”

  Her slender fingers caressed his forehead. The blood felt hot on her hand. Her face had a luminous shine in the moonlight.

  “Pick the flower when you can, rather than regret when the flower is gone,” Si Wang said softly.

  She remembered 1995, that spring evening when she and Mr. Shen took a walk in the wilderness. She was reading the classic poem “Golden Gown” by Du Qiu. Ouyang Xiaozhi was depressed at the time. New rumors about her had been circulating through the school. The girls gossiped about it during lunch break and the boys were happy to listen. Supposedly, Xiaozhi’s father wasn’t a martyr but a deserter. And, supposedly, his commander had executed him for being a deserter in Vietnam, the martyrdom was the result of a bribe, and her mother was a promiscuous widow.

  Xiaozhi didn’t talk to those girls. Even if she hadn’t been so shy, they didn’t like her, so she was never going to have the chance to defend herself. Even if she showed her dad’s award to everyone, they’d say it was fake.

  Boys acted friendly, but she kept her distance.

  No one talked to her except for her desk mate, Liu Man.

  She had been going to an elite high school in the city, but the neighborhood was rough—thugs harassed her and fought over her. Other students’ parents complained about how she attracted a bad element; one of the parents was a city administrator. The school bowed to pressure and made her leave. She was sent to the rural Nanming High to get away from the bad city element. Pretty girls were always followed by gossip. Just like the proverb, “Flies don’t stay on flawless eggs,” people assumed she was guilty.

  Words could kill.

  August 23, 2012. Chinese Valentine’s Day.

  A remote island.

  The wind made Xiaozhi’s vision blurry. She covered her eyes as though she had a headache. “Sorry, I got confused for a minute. You’re not him.”

  She tried to hide her tears.

  Si Wang reached out his hand, still hot from the fight. He held her chin to turn her toward him.

  Not all the blood had dried and his fingers smeared blood on her cheek, somehow making her look even more stunning.

  “Look at me, Xiaozhi.”

  The ocean wailed; tears ran into her mouth.

  “Walk me back,” she rasped into his ear. “If anybody asks about your wounds, just say they’re scratches from branches.”

  Si Wang held on to her face for quite some time. When he finally let go, he tried to clean away his blood.

  Later that night, back in her room with all of the other female teachers, she chanted to herself: “He is dead.”

  CHAPTER 62

  Fall arrived.

  When news of Mo Yan winning the Nobel Prize in literature was announced, people took Chinese class more seriously. Ouyang Xiaozhi lectured about Dreams of the Red Chamber, the part where Lin Daiyu arrived at the Jia mansion, and she brought up the book’s fifth chapter where a dream foretold the fates of the twelve girls of Jinling.

  “They said it’s a match made in Heaven, but I remember another promise I made. I can’t forget, no matter what. She is alone in another world. Life is never perfect, we may live together forever, but it’s never enough.”

  A few brown leaves floated outside the window. Xiaozhi recited the poem about Xue Baochai titled “Doomed Life.”

  “Si Wang.”

  He stood up quickly. “I was paying attention.”

  “Since you finished the book a long time ago, I’m curious. Who is your favorite girl among the twelve?”

  “ ‘Doomed Life’ was about Xue Baochai, but it also mentions Lin Daiyu. People always pitied Lin but complimented Xue. My favorite is Qin Keqin, who died a lusty death. Didn’t Jia Baoyu’s sexy dream from chapter five take place in her bed?”

  Xiaozhi coughed, slightly embarrassed.

  “Actually, the Ms. Goddess in Jia Baoyu’s dream was probably Qin Keqin. His sexual education came from a young married woman.”

  “Today’s literary society meeting is over. Everyone can go.”

  It was Friday and the students were out the door in no time, leaving Xiaozhi and Si Wang alone.

  “Xiaozhi, why didn’t you let me finish?”

  “They’re just kids, why say so much?”

  “Right, we’re the only grown-ups.”

  “What are you going on about?” She teasingly pushed him. “I sometimes think you’re not seventeen.”

  “I’m forty-two—seven years older than you.”

  The truth changed her demeanor. “Shut up!”

  Si Wang walked out of the classroom, fetched his backpack from the dorm, and headed for the school gates.

  Ouyang Xiaozhi caught up to him. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s OK.”

  As they walked on Nanming Road she said, “Si Wang, I saw your cell phone screensaver—tickets to Jacky Cheung’s 1995 concert.”
/>   “I went to that.”

  Her expression was troubled. She hesitated before saying, “There’s a Jacky Cheung concert tonight in the city. Do you want to go?”

  “You have tickets?”

  “No, but there are scalpers.”

  “I didn’t know about it.”

  Xiaozhi acted nonchalant. “You’re busy? Have another date?”

  “No, I’m free.”

  Si Wang called his mom, saying he had a tutoring session that night and wouldn’t be home until after ten.

  “Do you lie to your mom a lot?”

  “Not at all. My mom is the best woman in the world. The prettiest, too!”

  The two joked and laughed as they walked to the subway station.

  It was dusk, and the train to the city was crowded. Standing there on the cramped train Si Wang looked very grown-up, while Xiaozhi looked younger than her years. They looked more like a couple than teacher and student.

  “In 1995, I noticed you copying a poem,” Si Wang said. That year, the famous romance novelist Qiong Yao had written a poem for “Ghost Husband,” an episode of the hit TV show The Plum Flower Trilogy. He now recited this supernatural story, in which the protagonist believed that the man she loved had died, but years later, his ghost communicated to her with poems. She then started to believe in ghosts.

  “I just remember the line, ‘The bridge over troubled water has endless sorrow.’ ” Her voice was louder than the sounds of the subway car, but she didn’t care who heard her.

  They arrived at the stadium well before the concert started, so they headed to the convenience store to buy snacks. Near the stadium, Xiaozhi bought tickets from a scalper; they turned out to be good seats. They were pushed along by the crowd.

  She shouted to Si Wang, “I haven’t been to a concert in ten years!”

  “It’s been seventeen years for me!”

  Inside the loud concert hall the stage was lit up like a fireball. Si Wang screamed like an excited high school student; Xiaozhi also screamed, surprising herself for acting like such a fan.

  The singing sensation came out in a glittery costume. His first two songs were “Li Xianglan” and “I’m Really Hurt.”

  The two of them had purchased LED sticks on their way in and Ouyang Xiaozhi waved hers back and forth. Most of the crazy fans were in their thirties. Si Wang was among the younger fans, but he sang right along. Xiaozhi laughed at his screechy voice.

  When Si Wang wrapped his arm around her back she didn’t resist. She leaned into him and her hair covered his face like a silk scarf.

  For the next two hours the songs continued—“A Stab in the Heart,” “Traveling with You,” “I Waited Forever”—and their cheeks remained warmly pressed together the entire time.

  Near the end of the show Jacky Cheung sang something that didn’t come out until after Shen Ming had died—“She Came to My Concert”—and Xiaozhi held Si Wang’s neck and hid her face in his chest.

  Did she want to hide her crying or was she afraid to hear the emotional song? She held him so tightly he had trouble breathing.

  The final song was “A Kiss Good-Bye.” She let go of him, wiped away her tears, and looked into his eyes. Everyone sang along to the chorus, “We kissed good-bye in the crazy night.” His lips got close to hers but stopped two centimeters away.

  He didn’t kiss her.

  “You are not Shen Ming.” This was the first thing she’d said since the concert began.

  Half an hour later, the stadium had emptied out. They stayed in the empty hall. LED sticks, drink bottles, and snack containers littered the ground. They watched the crew dismantle the equipment on stage.

  She leaned her head on his shoulders and softly said, “Hi.”

  “What do you want to say?”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  He took off his jacket and covered her lap. “Are you cold?”

  “A little.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Do you know, in five years, I’ll be forty.”

  “I’d be forty-seven.”

  She shook her head bitterly. When she opened her eyes, she saw the night sky. The wind howled and a dry leaf fell on her face.

  Ouyang Xiaozhi caught the leaf in her mouth and chewed it to pieces. “When you’re rushing at night, don’t forget to look up at the starry sky.”

  He didn’t react for a long time.

  She stood up. “Go home, Si Wang.”

  CHAPTER 63

  Two days later.

  Xiaozhi taught her Monday morning Chinese class as usual. She didn’t look at Si Wang, and he avoided her. But by the afternoon, the students were gossiping and laughing; it was a mixture of mockery, envy, and jealousy.

  Si Wang threatened one guy and got some of the story out of him. Someone had seen them at the concert.

  It didn’t take long before everyone on campus knew. The students looked at them like they were the stars of the Nude Picture Scandal.

  Xiaozhi heard the teachers whispering. One woman said, “Kids today are something else. They actually date teachers. How disgusting. They watch too many Japanese adult movies.”

  The whole week passed in a daze. No students stayed to talk to her. Si Wang didn’t say a word; when he passed her in the hall he intentionally lowered his head. As soon as classes ended she went home, even though she knew Si Wang was hiding in the oleander trees, watching her. Only Mr. An followed her, but she ditched him, leaving him angrily kicking a tree.

  During several political science classes Mr. An called on Si Wang, asking him bizarre questions.

  On Friday, he pointed at Si Wang’s nose and asked, “Are there ghosts? If you had a ghostly secret, then what is materialism?”

  The questions made no sense. All the students knew what he really wanted to ask.

  Si Wang didn’t back down to Mr. An. “There are ghosts in the world. I have a ghostly secret, so do you. We all do. Only you can’t see the ghosts. But I can feel it, sitting on my shoulders and watching all of you, every minute of every day.”

  The class went wild, enraging Mr. An, who yelled at Si Wang, “Get out of my class you punk.”

  Si Wang stood very straight and answered calmly, “Sorry, teacher, you have no right to throw me out.”

  “Then I will leave.” Mr. An threw down his books and stormed out of the classroom.

  The students were stunned. Si Wang sat down calmly, but he was shaking all over.

  Homeroom teacher Zhang Mingsong called him to the office and lectured him. Si Wang was supposed to apologize to Mr. An, but Si Wang shook his head. “Why can’t I answer honestly in class?”

  “Si Wang, you really believe in ghosts?”

  “A ghost has been with me all this time.” Si Wang looked like a middle-aged man. “Do you believe me, Mr. Zhang?”

  The homeroom teacher seemed shocked. “Well, I’m not as conservative as you guys assume. I’ve been interested in philosophy and religion for years, and all sorts of paranormal things, including ghosts.”

  “I see,” Si Wang said, pointing to the big bookshelf behind Zhang Mingsong.

  “If you really have something unique to share, you can tell me. I’m your homeroom teacher, I won’t say anything.”

  “I’m sorry, I was just mouthing off.”

  “Fine, but I think you do have a secret. I’ll find out what it is.”

  “Mr. Zhang, can I go now?”

  “Apologize to Mr. An and we’ll forget about all of this.”

  Zhang Mingsong never mentioned Ouyang Xiaozhi.

  That night, she was in bed when she got a text from Si Wang: “I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to Mr. An. I’ll tell him I ran into you at the concert, you fell and I was helping you up, which explains why we were leaning on each other.”

  Xiaozhi squeezed her phone so hard she thought she would
crush it. She waited half an hour to reply: “Si Wang, don’t lie, no matter what!”

  “Xiaozhi, the whole school is talking about us. It’s a crisis. What should we do?”

  “Forget them! Don’t get distracted. You have to study hard and listen to the teachers.”

  “Did you ever like me?”

  Xiaozhi didn’t reply to this text. She assumed Si Wang was up the whole night, just like her.

  CHAPTER 64

  December. It was so cold that the air almost froze.

  Shen Min was now in the eleventh grade, and she’d become even prettier. She looked especially alluring in her school uniform.

  She read a new American book called The Lovely Bones. The novelist told a tear-jerker of a story about a girl who became a ghost after being killed. The girl’s ghost stayed on Earth to watch her killer and her family, feeling powerless about what she couldn’t do.

  Shen Min’s father was no longer a prosecutor, but he was still very stern with her. She was afraid to tell him she’d fallen in love.

  The guy went to another high school, though she had never seen him in a school uniform. He had a cool haircut, like one of those singing and dancing Korean celebrities. His cell phone was always the latest iPhone. He knew all the right things to say to charm girls. He got their numbers quickly and got them into bed after only a few meals—not that Shen Min was there yet.

  They often met by the street food carts; the May First High School was next door, and Wilderness Books was across the street.

  One weekend they went to see a movie. Hand in hand, they walked out. The teenage boy whispered, “Little Min, you must be tired. Let’s go to a hotel.”

  She wasn’t an immature girl anymore. Her face stiffened, “No!”

  “Fine, you better get home then so your dad doesn’t worry.”

  Shen Min was reluctant to go. Once she was on the bus she waved good-bye.

  The teenage boy stayed where he was and made a call. He got some cigarettes from a convenience store, chain-smoking his way through five of them. He never smoked in front of Shen Min. Soon, a teenage girl ran over, the same age as Shen Min but dressed more provocatively, and a lot less pretty. He took the girl into his arms and flirted with her. They kissed for a while before going into a nearby hourly motel.