If one had to look back, those two days of the 2011 Gaokao were merely the most ordinary of days among the three hundred and sixty-five in a year.
The weather wasn't particularly good; it rained for two days straight. Every taxi driver in the city was on standby, waiting to ferry examinees to their testing centers.
When Tan Junzi received her Chinese literature paper, she first flipped to the back to check the essay prompt. The moment she saw the topic, her mind went blank, yet her heart suddenly grew still.
During the final subject, English, the listening comprehension portion took place amidst a summer downpour. The sound of rain and thunder was soul-stirring. The proctors shut the windows tight, and the students focused with every ounce of their being.
The students in this classroom were randomly assigned from various schools. Once this day passed, they would all scatter toward different futures.
*
On the day the exams ended, Tan Junzi dragged Chang Ying out for a walk after dinner. There was no tearing up of papers or books, no video games or television. In the early summer night, they walked through nearly half of Tongcheng.
It wasn't until Tan Junzi stopped at the open plaza of a downtown shopping mall that she felt a slight return to reality. She watched a temporary stage built there, listened to the crackle of low-quality speakers, saw the hoarse host shouting on stage, and observed the unusually excited passersby and shills below.
"It’s over." Tan Junzi turned to look at Chang Ying, finally letting out a long-held breath.
"It’s over," Chang Ying nodded, confirming it.
The host on stage was promoting a home KTV system. Not only did it have a complete music library, but it also allowed for multi-player battles, with a machine determining who had the highest score.
The host invited audience members to come up and compete; the first-place winner would receive an MP3 player.
Hearing this, Tan Junzi’s eyes lit up. She jumped up and down while waving her hand until she was called onto the stage.
Standing on stage at that moment were ten elderly men, eight elderly women, and Tan Junzi.
The old men sang traditional opera with trills and quivers, and the old women hummed folk tunes. When it was Tan Junzi’s turn, she selected "A Madman's Dream."
"Run forward! Facing the cold eyes and the ridicule! How can you feel the vastness of life without experiencing hardships..."
Her rendition was fractured, out of tune, her voice cracked, and she even forgot the lyrics. Chang Ying felt that perhaps beauty truly was in the eye of the beholder, for he actually heard a flicker of soul in it.
In all fairness, Chang Ying thought one of the old men sang the best. Yet, incredibly, the machine gave Tan Junzi the highest score. It was almost unbelievable.
"I told you, with this kind of machine scoring, whoever is loudest gets the highest points. It doesn't care how well you actually sing." After collecting her prize, Tan Junzi excitedly pulled Chang Ying along as they headed home.
"Don't you already have an MP3 player?" Chang Ying asked, seeing her still immersed in the joy of victory.
"It’s for Qianniu. Her Walkman is too old; the buttons don't even work properly. Besides, who listens to cassette tapes these days? She’s long overdue for an upgrade," Tan Junzi said.
*
Tan Junzi delivered the MP3 player to the martial arts hall, strictly instructing the masters not to give it to Qianniu until after her Zhongkao—the high school entrance exam—was finished, fearing it might distract her.
The Zhongkao usually took place two days after the Gaokao. On the evening the Zhongkao ended, as expected, Tan Junzi received a call from Qianniu.
Even through the phone line, she could feel the young girl’s elation.
Tan Junzi asked, knowing the answer full well, "My Eldest Senior Sister, what has made you so happy?"
"Thank you, Junzi!!!!" Qianniu shouted into the receiver on the other end.
"Are you free tomorrow? I want to take you to Tahua Temple to fulfill a vow!" Qianniu said.
"The scores aren't even out yet. What vow are you fulfilling?" Tan Junzi asked, puzzled.
"Do you remember that day we went to make wishes, and I didn't tell you what I wished for? Actually, my wish back then was to own an MP3 player~ and then you gave me one! Of course I have to go thank the Buddha!"
"What kind of logic is that? I won that MP3 for you; the Buddha didn't win it for you. You should be burning incense for me," Tan Junzi said, somewhat exasperated.
"Oh, honestly, if it weren't for the Buddha's blessing, maybe you wouldn't have even won first place. Are you going or not?" Qianniu was teasing her on purpose.
"I have to accompany Yuan Guo... to see a Chinese medicine doctor. Go by yourself," Tan Junzi said after a moment's hesitation.
"Fine then~ Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!" Qianniu said "thank you" ten more times before she was willing to hang up.
After the call ended, Tan Junzi remembered that she had already downloaded the song "Who is the Hero" onto the MP3 player for Qianniu. She wondered if the girl had discovered it yet.
*
Two days later, Qin Ke called.
"Qianniu is missing. She hasn't been home for two days. Officer Chen wants to question you because she spoke to you on the phone before she disappeared."
Qin Ke spoke briefly—so briefly that it took Tan Junzi a moment to process it. She had to string the words together in her mind to understand what he had said.
Holding the receiver, Tan Junzi felt a buzzing in her brain. For a moment, her head felt heavy, her vision blurred, and the world began to spin.
Her mind was momentarily empty, then suddenly flooded.
On her way to the police station, she passed the scrap recycling station on Zhongxin Road and saw Uncle Kong in the distance.
Tan Junzi felt herself lose control. She walked straight up to Uncle Kong.
There were few people around; the recycling station was in a remote spot.
Uncle Kong was squatting on the ground, flattening cardboard boxes and tying them with rope. He saw a pair of canvas shoes appear before him and looked up. Tan Junzi was standing right there.
"Was it you? All three of them—you did it. Or it was Flower Padded Jacket. I know everything. I see it clearly." Tan Junzi’s eyes were hollow, her voice certain.
Uncle Kong’s expression shifted. He stood up, a snakeskin bag still on his back, and reached his hand behind him.
"Why did you bring the police?" Uncle Kong pointed behind Tan Junzi.
Tan Junzi turned around woodenly to look. There were no police.
In the next second, Uncle Kong pulled a random bottle from behind him and swung it at her. When Tan Junzi snapped back to her senses, she used her left arm to block. There was a sharp *crack*, followed by a dull, throbbing ache in her arm. It hurt terribly. Her left hand immediately lost all strength.
She looked closely at the bottle in Uncle Kong’s hand. It looked familiar. Before she could see more, Uncle Kong swung a second time. This time he aimed for the back of her head. She flinched again, and the wine bottle landed on her skull. It didn't hurt exceptionally bad, but it was enough to make her head swim and her vision darken. Perhaps because the bottle was wrapped in plastic foam, her head didn't split open.
Before her eyes closed, Tan Junzi saw herself being stuffed into a burlap sack. In that final tenth of a second, a thought flashed through her mind: *Isn't that the broken wine bottle my grandfather wrapped in three layers of padding...?*
*
"Awake?" Chang Ying held up a finger in front of Tan Junzi’s eyes. "How many?"
Tan Junzi blinked. "Three."
Chang Ying withdrew his finger. "Still knows how to lie. Not brain-dead yet."
Tan Junzi tried to prop herself up, only to find her body tilting to the left. Looking down, she saw her left arm was encased in a plaster cast.
"Your head is fine. Your left arm is fractured. Don't worry, the doctor checked you over." Chang Ying was peeling an apple.
Chang Ying was acting strange—colder than he had ever been. Beneath that coldness hid a simmering rage. But Tan Junzi had no time to worry about his attitude.
"Where’s Qianniu?" Tan Junzi grabbed Chang Ying’s arm with her right hand. Chang Ying took the opportunity to shove the apple into her hand.
"It’s a long story. If you’re not sleepy, I’ll tell you slowly. Come, sit up, I’ll help you adjust the bed." Chang Ying didn't look into Tan Junzi’s eyes, but her gaze followed him relentlessly.
Chang Ying adjusted the angle of the hospital bed and waited until she took her first bite of the apple before he spoke.
"First, about Uncle Kong. That day, Yuan Guo’s uncle’s friends saved you. A few of them were... wandering around that area and thought you looked familiar. They remembered Yuan Guo had taken you to Old Yuan’s Noodle Shop before and knew you were her friend."
"What did you say to Uncle Kong?" Chang Ying asked.
"Where’s Qianniu?" Tan Junzi didn't answer him, repeating her question like a broken record.
Chang Ying closed his eyes briefly, then continued, "It doesn't matter what you asked. In any case, you likely provoked him, and he attacked you in a fit of impulse. Afterward, Officer Chen grew suspicious and took men to search his house. They found..."
"They found three bodies, all walled up inside the bathroom of Uncle Kong’s house. One of them was Flower Padded Jacket’s wife. It had been claimed she ran off with a truck driver, but she had actually been murdered long ago."
"The identities of the other two are still being verified, but they are both middle-aged women from out of town."
"Qianniu was not among them." Chang Ying finished and looked closely at Tan Junzi. She actually let out a sigh of relief.
"It was a stroke of luck in a way; Officer Chen broke a serial murder case. As for Qianniu’s disappearance, there are some leads now."
"Luo Zihan’s grandmother reported to the police. She said she went to Tahua Temple that day to fulfill a vow. She saw a familiar young girl following a woman into a van."
"Luo Zihan’s grandmother knows Qianniu?" Tan Junzi was confused.
"Yes. His grandmother said that when she went to the temple before to pray for her grandson’s success in the Gaokao, she met three young girls on the road, one of whom had her left arm in a cast. On the day Qianniu went missing, his grandmother saw her again at Tahua Temple. Qianniu even told her that the Bodhisattva of Tahua Temple was indeed effective and that she had come to fulfill her vow."
"The woman who took Qianniu was missing a segment of one finger. That woman accidentally bumped into Luo Zihan’s grandmother before entering the temple, knocking her incense to the ground. She cursed and didn't help pick it up, so the grandmother took note of her."
...
Chang Ying said much more after that, and Tan Junzi felt her mind becoming crammed with information.
For instance, the police suspected the woman with the missing finger was a remnant of a human trafficking ring from Xiancheng. A previous multi-province sting operation had caught most of them, but a few leaders had escaped.
For instance, the wine bottle Uncle Kong used to hit her really had been scavenged from her grandfather’s place. Chang Ying recognized the wrapping style immediately. Because of that—a blessing in disguise—she hadn't suffered a more severe injury.
And for instance, Flower Padded Jacket, who had been isolated in the hospital, was being transferred out. There were strong suspicions now that his mental illness was faked. During his statement, Uncle Kong had let it slip that Flower Padded Jacket only 'went crazy' after committing the murders. This timeline proved he was a killer first and mentally ill second. Regardless, both Flower Padded Jacket and Uncle Kong—one a murderer, the other an accomplice—would not escape the reach of the law.
Luo Zihan and the others had come to visit Tan Junzi, but she had been asleep at the time, so they didn't stay long.
At this point, Chang Ying took a dried persimmon out of the drawer.
"Luo Zihan brought this. He said he never ate it and kept it on his home altar as an offering. That persimmon really did bring him good luck. Now he’s giving it to you to keep. He says the persimmon will protect you and ensure you find Qianniu."
Tan Junzi stared at the hospital ceiling. The last time she had lain here was for an appendectomy.
Now, with her left arm in a cast, it was difficult even to turn over. her thoughts drifted toward the essay topic of this year’s Gaokao.
The prompt had been:
"Mr. Jin Yong said: 'The great righteousness of a hero lies in serving the country and the people.' We see various heroes on television—they can be athletes winning glory for the nation, anonymous scientists, or artists shining on stage... Yet our ordinary lives are also not lacking in heroes. Please discuss the concepts of 'Xia' (heroism) and 'Yi' (righteousness) within ordinary life. Any style is permitted, except for poetry."
The moment she saw that prompt, Tan Junzi had forgotten every single piece of prepared material she had memorized. In the end, she used three examples: Yuan Guo, Tan Zhengqi, and Qianniu, all under pseudonyms.
She remembered writing a passage that went like this:
*The great righteousness of a hero is the convergence of small forces: it is having the courage to live earnestly and rally your spirits even after being hurt; it is starting from oneself, holding fast to one's heart even when knowing one is but an ant trying to shake a giant tree, raising one's voice and taking action; it is the extraordinary impact that can arise from the ordinary—it is the ten thousand formed by ten thousand 'ones,' and the ten thousand transforming back into ten thousand 'ones' again.*
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