In the summer of 2003, Shao Xue’s family bought their first computer.
Back then, assembling computers in Zhong Guan Cun was a lucrative trade. “Assembling” meant purchasing each computer component separately and putting it together. Ordinary people didn’t know much about this, so the sellers made a profit by buying low and selling high. Dou Si Yuan, a graduate of a science and technology university, had a friend who dabbled in this business. Over lunch, the friend casually asked if Dou knew anyone looking to buy a computer.
As it happened, Jin Ning and Yu Dong Ge were interested.
A computer cost several thousand yuan, a significant purchase for a working-class family at the time. After weeks of planning and preparation, the computer was finally assembled and connected to the internet, creating a buzz across half the hutong. Back then, there were no sleek LCD screens—just massive desktop monitors that overheated after a short time of use.
Dou Si Yuan came over to Shao Xue’s house to fine-tune the system. After poking around for a bit, Shao Xue pointed to an orange icon on the screen and asked, “What’s this for?”
“That’s online shopping. Never heard of it?”
“Shopping online?” Shao Xue was confused. “Can you really trust it?”
“You’re so behind the times,” Dou Si Yuan teased. “You’re lagging in the digital age. With this site, you browse what you like, place an order, and a few days later, it’s delivered right to your door.”
“You young people and your crazy ideas,” Yu Dong Ge called from the kitchen, chopping vegetables. “You pay the money, and what if they don’t send it? Sounds like a scam.”
“Teacher Yu, we’ve got to embrace new things. Come here, I’ll show you the news about it.”
Shao Hua and Yu Dong Ge both crowded around the screen. The official Xinhua news report added a layer of credibility, but Yu Dong Ge still didn’t like the look of the man in the photo. “Look at him—shifty-eyed. No way I’d trust him. What’s his name?”
“Ma Yun.”
“Well, even his name isn’t impressive. Shao Xue, don’t trust this, and don’t go putting your information online.”
Dou Si Yuan sighed, rubbing his temples, and gave up trying to enlighten them.
Shao Xue had taken computer classes at school, so she quickly adapted to the new technology. While Yu Dong Ge was still practicing typing with one finger, Shao Xue was already furiously replying to forum posts. The bookmarks Dou Si Yuan had left on her computer were filled with news sites like Phoenix News and Sohu Military. One day, she clicked on Sohu’s homepage and noticed a particularly nostalgic ad in the bottom-right corner.
“Mom,” she called over her shoulder, “Is Beyond a famous band? I remember you listening to them before.”
Yu Dong Ge paused, surprised that her daughter would bring it up. “Yes, I used to listen to them when I was young. Why?”
“There’s an ad here saying their band is holding a concert at the Workers' Stadium in August.”
“That website’s full of nonsense,” Yu Dong Ge shook her head, waving her dishrag as she cleaned the table. “Huang Jiaju has been dead for years. The band broke up ages ago. What concert?”
“It’s true,” Shao Xue clicked the ad and beckoned her mother over. “Come see for yourself.”
The dial-up internet was painfully slow, and the page loaded at a snail’s pace. When the information finally appeared, Yu Dong Ge was in disbelief.
Panicked, she hastily shut off the monitor, threw down her rag, and rushed out the door.
No one could blame Yu Dong Ge for her sudden anxiety. Everyone has been young once, and everyone has made mistakes. Yu Dong Ge was no exception.
At barely twenty, just out of school and working as an apprentice, she was pretty, quick to learn, and constantly surrounded by older colleagues trying to set her up with suitable matches. But she ended up falling for a drifter from the neighboring hutong, who traded goods on the black market.
Yu Dong Ge had been naive, too easily charmed by a few mix tapes and sweet words. One night, he climbed over her garden wall, carrying a train ticket wrapped around a cheap ring he’d likely bought from a street vendor, and asked her if she would run away with him.
"Where was she headed? She didn’t know. Just the idea of wandering for love was enough for this naive girl to give up everything. She left her job, abandoned her family and friends, and packed up her savings into a small bag, following the man onto a train heading south. The green train rumbled through mountains, with the men in the carriage snoring loudly. Twenty-year-old Yu Dong Ge leaned against the window, thinking that her future would be as romantic as those in Hong Kong films.
As for what happened later, it’s easy to guess.
That man didn’t have much skill, and his business was hit or miss. At their worst, Yu Dong Ge would make a single portion of noodles a day, and after he’d eaten his fill, he would go play cards, leaving her alone in their rented room to soak bread in noodle soup. She didn’t dare call her family. She was raised by a single father, a taxi driver who had worked tirelessly to raise her. Now that she’d run off, she couldn’t face him again.
At that time, they said money was easy to make in the south, so they packed up and moved to a port city. The language barrier meant she couldn’t even work as a waitress and ended up in a factory as a laborer. The assembly line work had no use for the delicate skills she’d learned, and her hands were full of cuts with no one to care. One night, after finishing her shift, she walked home and saw a street performer singing.
By then, she understood a little Cantonese. The busker paused in the middle of his song when he saw her standing there, dazed and watching. ‘Sister, let me sing you a song,’ he said. ‘I really like this band, Beyond. Here’s their song “Goodbye, My Dreams.”’
On the empty street, in the foreign city’s cold winter night, the stranger’s soft ‘sister’ brought tears streaming down her face.
‘I sit alone at the street corner, the cold wind awakens me / Silently, my shadow accompanies me in loneliness / I just want to hug my guitar and pour out my sadness / At this moment, I remember the past.
‘A few drinks of strong liquor fill the empty cup / Borrowing the wine to wash away the sorrow / When will I meet my old confidants again? / I hope to reunite and share the stories of our past.’
She cried bitterly, mourning the life that hadn’t even started, yet somehow already felt over.
Who could have imagined that Shao Hua would come looking for her?
Later generations didn’t really know this story. They only knew how Zheng Jin had once chased Jin Ning across Europe, but Yu Dong Ge never spoke of her own youthful foolishness, so no one knew what she had been through.
Shao Hua’s search was much more difficult than Zheng Jin’s. When Zheng Jin went to find Jin Ning, at least there was an address and a phone number, so he made contact immediately upon arrival. But Shao Hua? He went south without any leads, spending most of the time wandering blindly like a headless chicken.
But fate favored the persistent. Shao Hua eventually found her. Normally, he was a laid-back guy, always smiling and never angry.
But this time, he was genuinely furious.
Shao Hua and that man fought all the way from upstairs to downstairs, creating such a scene that two layers of onlookers gathered. There was a fruit stand nearby, and the man grabbed a fruit knife, brandishing it threateningly, shouting, ‘Take one more step! I dare you!’
Shao Hua jabbed a finger at his own chest, enunciating each word slowly, ‘Go ahead, stab me right here.’
Of course, the man didn’t. A patrolling policeman received the report and arrested both men. Yu Dong Ge followed behind them, only to meet Shao Hua’s furious and pained glance as he turned around.
‘Pack your things,’ he said. ‘I’ll take you home.’
Shao Hua might have been detained for a few days. When he was released, Yu Dong Ge was waiting for him outside the police station, and the man who had entangled her didn’t dare approach, frightened off by Shao Hua’s glare.
On their way to the train station, they passed by the same street performer. Yu Dong Ge walked over and placed a 20-yuan bill in front of him. He strummed a chord and smiled kindly at her.
The train station was crowded. The two of them huddled in a small corner, sharing a cup of instant noodles. Looking at Shao Hua’s bruised face, Yu Dong Ge said self-deprecatingly, ‘I did this to myself. Why did you wade into this mess?’
‘My grandma said,’ Shao Hua replied, slurping his noodles, ‘it’s normal for a big girl to make foolish mistakes, but once you find her, you can still marry her.’
Everything went quiet for a moment.
‘There’s nothing shameful about this,’ Shao Hua said. ‘Your dad’s fallen ill. The neighbors have been helping take care of him these past few days. You should go home and apologize to him. You’re not just after a few cassette tapes, are you? I’ll buy you a whole cabinet full of them when we get back.’
Hearing her father was sick made Yu Dong Ge both anxious and frustrated. She muttered, ‘It wasn’t just for his tapes…’
The more she tried to explain, the worse it sounded, so she gave up.
Later, they dated, got married, and had children. She became just another ordinary middle-aged woman, but she never forgot the song that boy sang to her on that street in Guangzhou. One after another, she listened to Beyond’s songs, from “Glorious Years” to “Boundless Oceans, Vast Skies.” When Wong Ka Kui died in a tragic accident in Japan, she cried for days, so much that Shao Xue had to climb onto her lap to wipe her mother’s tears.
What’s there to cry about? You didn’t even know the guy.
But that was her youth.
The 2003 Beyond concert at the Workers’ Stadium was packed with people.
Yu Dong Ge bought a regular ticket and entered the venue with a crowd of fans, some older, some younger. She went alone. Neither Shao Hua nor Shao Xue knew about this. A kid from the 80s, about Shao Xue’s age, sat next to her, swollen-eyed, and asked, ‘Auntie, are you a fan too?’
She replied, ‘Yes, yes, I am.’
After all, she had been young once too."
){kind=link}
0 Comments