Chapter Nine: The Golden Moon

Authentic indeed! That was Hongtao’s final verdict on his grandfather’s style of Tai Chi. His reasoning was simple: after mimicking the moves for just over ten minutes, he was already sweating and his arms and legs were starting to ache, which surely meant his joints and muscles had been well exercised. The old man didn’t take Hongtao’s interest in learning Tai Chi seriously; after all, children’s enthusiasm rarely lasted beyond three days. He hadn’t even bothered to properly teach him—Hongtao had simply flailed about behind his grandfather, imitating his motions.

“Hey, boy! How about coming to work with Grandpa? There are lots of fun things at my office. First, we’ll grab breakfast at Dongzhimen, and there’ll be meat for lunch. What do you say?” The old man was clearly enjoying the chance to spend time with his grandson, and it seemed he hadn’t had enough yet. He started coaxing Hongtao to accompany him to work, probably eager to show off his grown grandson at the office.

Back then, there wasn’t much for people to brag about—everyone lived much the same. If one family ate cabbage, the next had potatoes; no one was better off than anyone else. The only thing that truly set people apart was their children. Whose daughter was pretty, whose son was sturdy, whose grandchild was smart, or even whose child was taller—these were all points of pride, worth showing off.

“I’ve still got to finish the homework my dad assigned me. Otherwise, I’ll have to go back to the nursery. Let’s go to your office another time,” Hongtao replied. He had no intention of going to his grandfather’s workplace—the main issue was that it was too far away. It took two or three bus transfers and a long walk after that. He’d been there once in his later years as a middle schooler to help his grandfather with medical reimbursements, and had nearly collapsed from exhaustion.

“You really want to study at home by yourself? Who’s going to teach you? If you don’t want to go to nursery, I’ll talk to your dad! Don’t be fooled by your father being a university lecturer—if I glare at him, he’s still scared of me!” His grandfather was dubious about Hongtao’s plan. He didn’t have much formal education himself, but he knew that a four-year-old trying to teach himself to read was hardly a reliable proposition. If nobody taught him, how could he possibly recognize characters on his own—what was he, some kind of prodigy?

“I want to give it a try. I can listen in at my uncle’s school—I won’t go into the classroom, just stand in the hallway and listen.” Hongtao had already prepared his excuse. Behind their building was Yonghegong Middle School, which housed elementary through high school grades. His youngest uncle was in junior high there, and Hongtao often visited the school to tattle on him. The guard never stopped him, seeing he was just a child.

“Looks like your dad finally has hope for a son. He’s got a good boy, all right! Fine, I won’t stop you. Study hard and do your father proud. Apart from your dad, none of our family has ever made it to college—maybe our ancestors are finally smiling on us, and you’ll be the first! Here, a reward from Grandpa—buy yourself an ice pop!” His grandfather stroked his head, still unable to figure out what had inspired his grandson to come up with such an idea.

But the old man was no fool. He didn’t have much faith in the future prospects of so-called “stinking intellectuals” like Hongtao’s father, but he knew that, throughout Chinese history, scholars had always been valued. Even after being labeled as “stinking intellectuals,” his son still earned much more than an ordinary worker. That much he understood—more education could never be a bad thing. And so, Hongtao found an extra coin in his pocket—a whole five-cent piece!

Leaving Ditan Park, Hongtao walked home with his grandfather, who then headed off to work. Hongtao stood in the open lot in front of his building, gazing up at the three-story apartment that had been his home for as long as he could remember.

This was where he had lived until sixth grade—his entire childhood was tied to this place. Behind every window lay a memory. And not just childhood memories, either—when he got married, he and his wife moved back here again, living for over a decade until his unexpected journey through time. It wasn’t that his family had no other homes; he simply didn’t want to live with his parents. Besides, though his grandparents had passed away, his uncle still lived in the same courtyard. He found it more comfortable here than at his parents’, and if he was too lazy to cook, he could always mooch a meal from his uncle.

Back then, the front and back of the building were open spaces, wider than a basketball court. By later years, the entire area was packed with buildings, so much so that even a car couldn’t squeeze in. The nearby alley was the same—at the time, huge Liberation trucks hauling cabbages from the outskirts could trundle through without issue. Later on, half the alley became a parking lot, and if an inexperienced driver tried to navigate the narrow lanes, a traffic jam was almost guaranteed. Neighbors often quarreled over parking spots—Hongtao himself had witnessed it. By then, the alley had lost all traces of his childhood; though it was still called an alley, it was really no different from a main road.

“Waa… waawaa…” Just as Hongtao was lost in thought, a middle-aged woman emerged from the entrance of Building 1, gesturing at him and calling out with a series of “waa” sounds.

“Got it, I’m going now!” Hongtao gestured back. This was his neighbor—a deaf-mute woman. Both she and her husband were deaf, and the building had two entrances: the first one near the main alley was managed by the Civil Affairs Bureau, the second, closer to the school, by the Housing Authority. Hongtao had grown up next to these two deaf families and had learned a few simple gestures. The woman was asking why he hadn’t gone to nursery.

“Xiao Tao! My dad’s taking me to nursery—do you want to come with us?” A little girl shot out of the second entrance. She wore green pants and a white blouse with a lacy collar, looking as lively as a butterfly.

“I’m older than you—you should call me Brother Tao. And tell Uncle Jin to stop giving you tetracycline, or your teeth will turn black!” Hongtao looked at her, imagining what she’d look like grown up. He swallowed nervously, then grinned like a big bad wolf.

This little girl was Jin Yue. She looked nothing like her sister, Jin Xing, and was unlike most children in the neighborhood. Her hair was naturally curly, like a wavy perm, and she had big, doll-like eyes with long lashes. As a child, Hongtao didn’t know what a “mixed blood” was—he just thought Jin Yue was pretty. The neighbors, though, often speculated that she must have Russian blood, since she didn’t resemble either of her parents.

That rumor was put to rest when, after his marriage, Hongtao moved back into the building. By then, Jin Yue was over thirty, and as she aged, she grew more and more like her mother, no longer the striking doll she once was. Only one thing hadn’t changed: her tetracycline-stained teeth.

A brief word about that—tetracycline teeth were a common sight in the 1960s and 70s. Back then, there weren’t many effective antibiotics, and tetracycline was the go-to remedy for all sorts of infections. Later, it was discovered to have many side effects, the most obvious being that it left teeth rotten and black—a condition known as tetracycline teeth. So if you ever see someone born in those decades with terrible teeth, it might not be their fault—they could simply be a victim of tetracycline.

“You’re a bad boy—I’m not calling you ‘brother’! Dad! Xiao Tao’s bullying me, saying my teeth will turn black!” No girl likes to be told she isn’t pretty, whether she’s one or a hundred. So Hongtao’s words provoked a strong reaction from Jin Yue, who pouted and called for her father.

“Xiao Tao, if you keep bullying your little sister, I’ll give you a good spanking! Your dad spoils you, but I won’t go easy on you. By the way, I heard from your dad that you’re not going to nursery—you want to study at home? What kind of crazy idea is that? Your dad believes you just like that? Do you really dislike nursery so much that you’d rather run wild at home?” Jin Yue’s father emerged, pushing his bicycle and scolding Hongtao.

Her father was a retired officer, said to have fought in the Korean War and been wounded. He was one of the few neighbors that Hongtao’s father could have a real conversation with, and their families were close. Jin Yue’s father often managed to get military-only supplies, especially cigarettes, while Hongtao’s father tutored Jin Xing in her studies.

Uncle Jin was one of the few adults Hongtao genuinely feared. He had a strong military air, brooking no nonsense, and was known for his heavy hand. Once, after Hongtao made Jin Yue cry by pulling her pigtails, Uncle Jin had pulled him over his knee for a sound spanking, and ever since, Hongtao had been careful not to cross him directly.

“I’m not just running wild at home—I’m teaching myself. By the time Jin Yue starts elementary school, I might have finished the entire first-grade curriculum. I’ll definitely be a better student than her.” Hongtao tried to sound as childlike as possible, not explaining things too logically, but it didn’t come naturally to him—he just couldn’t quite pull it off yet.

“Hongtao, your family’s got a little monster now—teaching himself! You can fool your father, but you can’t fool Uncle Jin. Here’s the deal: if you really manage to learn on your own, I’ll send Jin Yue over as your student and buy you a big ice cream every day! But if you don’t manage, I’ll march you to nursery school myself every day!” Uncle Jin shouted up at Hongtao’s window, then scooped him up and set him on his bicycle’s crossbar, ready to help his father drag him off to nursery.

“Xiao Tao, I borrowed the books for you—your sister Jin Xing’s textbooks. Take good care of them, don’t get them dirty, and definitely don’t tear or lose them. Your assignment today is to learn the first page of pinyin. I don’t expect you to memorize it all—just learn as much as you can. I’ll quiz you tonight. Also, you confused me so much last night that you owe me an explanation. You must tell me how you plan to teach yourself. If you can’t give me a clear answer, see? Uncle Jin and I will both take you straight to nursery.” Hongtao’s father came out, pushing his bike from the hallway, and stood side by side with Uncle Jin.