Proofreaders: happyBuddha, m@o
Chapter 2 of Brother!
1983
Xu Ping ended late today
because the class meeting of year six division three at Railroads No.1
Elementary went overtime.
He packed up and when he
rushed out of the classroom, he ran straight into Lu Jia. Usually, the boys
would get into a fight but today the homeroom teacher, Mrs. Li, was in the
hallway. Lu Jia only made a disdainful snort and pushed past him.
Lu Jia had just been scolded
by the teacher at the meeting. He was often late to class and the first to
leave. He chitchatted during self-study time and even copied homework. The
teacher made him reflect on his wrongs in front of the class.
Lu Jia glared daggers at
Xu Ping when he stepped down from the podium as if to say, “Just you wait, you
little shit!”
Xu Ping didn’t even bother
to care.
He was busy wondering how
long the meeting was going to continue and worrying that Xu Zheng would get
impatient.
As he ran home, he passed
by the book stand where his schoolmates had gathered. He remembered that today
was the release of book five of Heroes of Sui and Tang, but he didn’t have the time to buy it now.
He opened the door with
the key around his neck to find the eight-year-old Xu Zheng on a chair by the
window with his legs tucked into his chest.
“Okay, let’s go,” the
sweaty Xu Ping said to his brother without even stopping for a drink.
Xu Zheng glanced at the
wall clock and then at his brother. He pouted. “Five-thirty.”
Xu Ping wiped the sweat on
his forehead. “I got held up in class. I didn’t mean to.
“Five-thirty!” Xu Zheng
repeated loudly.
Xu Ping took a glimpse at
the clock and shrugged. “Yeah, we’re thirty minutes late.”
“Sandbox time is five
o’clock!”
If this were any other
person, even Xu Ping’s dad, Xu Ping would have lost his temper by now.
But Xu Zheng was a
different story.
He was a special child.
Xu Ping tried to suppress
his anger. “We can go at five-thirty, too. Come on.”
Xu Zheng sat there hugging
his knees and shouted to the ceiling, “Five o’clock! Not five-thirty!”
Xu Ping was about to lose it. Who even
bothered with these minute details? It was just sand. “What’s the difference
between five and five-thirty?”
Xu Zheng looked at his
brother. “You said. Five o’clock. Sandbox time!” He tapped his own head. “You
said. I remember!”
Xu Ping was angry now. He
knew his brother had a mild deficiency but had never found him this immature
and annoying. “Well, now I say five-thirty is sandbox time, alright? Are you
going or not? I still have homework to do!”
They engaged in tug-of-war
with their eyes.
Xu Ping didn’t back down.
He was twelve already, well past the age to play with sand. If not for this
retard brother of his, he would be participating in extracurricular activities,
not going to the sandbox at five every single day!
Xu Zheng jumped down from
the chair with his head hanging low, and he pulled out a red metal bucket from
under the table. Inside were a shovel and a ball.
Going to the sandbox at
five everyday was Xu Zheng’s daily chore. His brother had promised him. They
had even pinky swore and everything. He remembered it perfectly.
His brother was the bad
one!
The more he thought about
it, the more aggrieved he felt. He dragged the bucket noisily along the ground.
Xu Ping was so baffled by
this he could laugh.
This brat! If he wasn’t my brother, and if my brother wasn’t a
retard, I’d…I’d…
Xu Ping didn’t know how to
finish that thought, but he did know that his life would be a hundred times
better without his brother holding him back. He could join extracurricular
activities like other kids, read comics afterschool, attend the spring and
autumn fieldtrips, and most importantly, he wouldn’t have to suffer the talk
behind his back from his classmates.
“Xu Ping is the retard’s
brother.”
Xu Ping felt a slap on his
face from the burning shame whenever he heard that.
Xu Zheng was still dragging the bucket out the door while Xu Ping
had already turned and headed down the stairs.
The bucket wasn’t light by
any means, and Xu Zheng could not carry it for long. Usually, Xu Ping would
help him carry it with a frown, but today he merely watched from the corner of
his eye his dumb brother shuffling along with great effort. He felt a sudden
burst of fury and yelled, “What are you doing? Get a move on! Do you still want
to go or not!”
Xu Zheng kept his head
down in silence.
Xu Ping likely would have
given in if he could have whined a little like a normal eight year old, or maybe
complain about the bucket being too heavy for him.
But Xu Zheng didn’t. He
didn’t know how to. Even if he did, he wouldn’t. He was angry at his brother
too, as much as Xu Ping was angry at him. He dragged the bucket along, hitting
it on each step as he came down, filling the stairwell with clanging.
Seeing his brother acting
up, Xu Ping only became more enraged. He scoffed and walked ahead.
The two brothers arrived
at the sandbox in the courtyard. It used to be filled with kids play fighting
and throwing bean bags, and such. Recently, the Informatics Centre next door
relocated and the building had yet to be demolished. The neighbourhood children
began to play there instead.
Xu Ping swung his army
green bag off his shoulder and plopped down under the shade of a tree.
It was September but the
Indian summer was vicious. The ground was baked by the sun and it took some
wiggling around for Xu Ping to find a comfortable spot.
He took out his workbook
from the bag. The assignment today was a six hundred word essay. The topic was
“My cute ___” and the student could insert a person or animal in the blank,
such as “brother,” “sister,” “kitten,” or “puppy.”
Speak of the devil! Xu
Ping just about poked a hole in the page with his pencil.
Only then did Xu Zheng shuffle
past him with the bucket. There was a huge, purple bloody bruise on his knee
that made his skin look pale and sickly. He was wearing a red tank top with a
pair of blue shorts that was faded from the numerous washes and a pair of grey
sandals, and he sported a buzz cut on his head.
Xu Ping looked down and pretended
to work on his assignment.
Mom died early. Dad was often
away because of the performances of the Cultural Troupe. As for his
only brother…
Xu Ping crossed out the possibility of "My cute
brother" with a giant red marker in his mind.
What about cats or dogs? Xu Ping
resorted to animals.
But they never had a pet.
Xu Ping had once found a litter
of kittens abandoned by their mother in a rumpled cardboard box on the brink of
starving. He brought them home and tried to feed them congee, but the kittens
wouldn’t eat it and only kept mewling. He held each of them dear in his arms and petted them affectionately. However, his dad threw the three
pitiful creatures out when he came home from work that night, regardless how
much Xu Ping pleaded.
“What kind of brother are you? Don’t you know your brother is allergic to cat fur?!”
Xu Ping even had a crying session
because of this without anyone knowing.
His retard brother had always
been the most important. He had to remember that he was, before anything else,
“Xu Zheng’s brother”.
Xu Ping
wondered what had happened to those cats afterwards as he stuck the pencil behind his ear
like smokers do with their cigarette. They probably died of
hunger the next day after getting thrown out.
But he couldn’t write about that
in his essay. Though no one in particular taught him, he knew that the ugly and
the painful could not be written even if it was the truth.
Mom
died.
Dad
threw away the kittens.
I hate my brother.
Who would want to see that? And
if his dad found out, he would get some quality time with the belt too.
The teacher said, they must aim
for the sky and be positive.
For instance, the essays written
by fellow elementary school kids in the book, “Essay King” that he bought, nine
out of ten began with “It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and there
wasn’t a cloud in the sky” as though it never rained and snowed in the year.
Xu
Ping brought the pencil from his left ear to his right, then from his right to
his left. Even then, his page remained blank.
He glanced over at his brother.
Xu
Zheng was engrossed with the sand. He shovelled sand into the bucket, packed it
in tightly, and then turned the bucket upside down to leave a pillar of sand.
Frankly,
Xu Ping didn’t see the fun in doing this, but Xu Zheng could do the same
movements over and over for minutes, even hours, until all the sand was gone.
Xu
Ping puckered his lips and returned to staring aimlessly at the sky.
He
got glared at by Lu Jia at the class meeting. Lu Jia was always a spiteful
child and they still had bad blood between them from the incident with his
little brother, Lu Xi. Now, there was another score to settle. Xu Ping thought
as he rubbed his nose.
Lu
Jia lived in the same complex and attended the same elementary. His brother, Lu
Xi, was a year younger than Xu Zheng and was in year two at the school. He had
tiny eyes and a flat nose, but was a clever kid who always had a smile on his
face. He greeted everyone dearly and had a mouth as sweet as honey. When New
Year's came along, he received more red pockets than any other kid.
Now,
Xu Zheng, on the other hand, had adorable looks but had mush for brains. He
either hid from people or stood there like a dummy, unwilling to speak even
when pushed. Other than arguing with Xu Ping, Xu Zheng was a closed clam even
with their father.
Xu
Ping shot a disappointed look at his brother.
The
oblivious target of which was still in the sandbox scooping sand into the
bucket. His lateral profile resembled that of Xu Chuan, clearly defined with a
tall nose. Only his eyes, however, were not as strong and slanted, but rather
round and large. They made him look like a dumb and loyal puppy when they gazed
at you.
Xu
Ping fought back the shudders and turned away to relieve them.
How
could a retard that always brought trouble be as cute as a puppy?!
He
must have been mad!
As
Xu Ping raged at himself, he stomped on the topic “My cute brother” until it
fractured to bits and pieces.
Unable to come up with an essay topic, Xu
Ping took out his knife and began sharpening his pencils.
He
had five Chung Hwa pencils in his metal pencil case. The body was red and
black, and it was topped with a pink eraser. “China Shanghai Chung Hwa Brand”
was printed on the black side with a small golden mark.
Xu
Ping organized them according to length on the ground from longest to shortest
and shaved off the wooden chips like a
gardener would his garden.
He had long and strong fingers that curved
upward at the tip. He was skilled with his hands and made even pencil
sharpening look swift and graceful.
His homeroom teacher, Mrs.
Li, had once said, “You must be good at taking care of others.”
Xu Ping thought long and
hard with a frown about how his teacher came to such a conclusion. The ultimate
explanation was that his teacher had probably been fooled by his average face.
He actually was extremely
impatient, had a bad temper and hated taking care of others.
Xu Ping flicked the
shavings away and stood up for a stretch.
He wondered if the new
volume of Heroes of Sui and Tang had
been sold out yet.
The story had left off at
the part where Cheng Yaojin was taught how to use the war axe
through a dream. He was taught three manoeuvres: the skull cracker, the jaw
breaker and the neck chopper. These were extremely deadly and, with the first
alone, he was able to take General Luo Fang’s life and take back the tribute
that Yang Lin made to the government, which led to his cousin, Qin Qiong, being
asked to deal with him by the police.
He wondered as to what happened afterwards while
he twisted his neck.
There were many others in his class who were
addicted to these comics. The storylines were fresh and the illustrations were
beautiful too, making the fight scenes extra exciting. It was one of the most
unique of its kind and had the boys under its spell. They would go to the
bookstand every other day to see if the new volume had arrived.
Just thinking about it
made Xu Ping fidget with anxiety.
He wasn’t going to make
any progress with the essay so why not go to the bookstand while it was still
light.
He glanced at Xu Zheng in
the sandbox.
Xu Zheng was only a third
of the way through the sand, and since this was Xu Zheng, who was as flexible
as metal, he wouldn’t stop until the very last grain.
The mounds of sand that
looked like ugly blemishes only annoyed Xu Ping.
He didn’t understand Xu
Zheng’s life.
Xu Zheng would wake up at
six-thirty every morning and be sent to school for the special by Xu Ping at
seven-thirty. The teacher would bring him home at four-thirty and he would go
to the sandbox with Xu Ping at five. After making thirty identical piles of
sand, he would return home for supper. Shower would come after supper and
bedtime was nine o’clock sharp. He would close his eyes and when they opened
again, it would be the next day which would be the exact same as the day
before.
What kind of life was
that?
Xu Ping would find it hard
to breathe and wanted to run from it, but everyday he would still go home
afterschool and take his brother out to play.
He hated it!
He hated his idiotic
brother but at the same time, he hated himself for being a wuss.
But Xu Zheng was like
caramel that refused to come loose.
Xu Zheng wasn’t close with
anyone. Not even their dad could get a few words out of him. He only knew to
hold on to Xu Ping, and only Xu Ping.
“Hey.”
No one answered.
“Xiao-Zheng!”
Only after a long time did
Xu Zheng turn his head around slowly to take one glance at him before returning
to his sand.
“Stop playing. I’ll take
you to the bookstand.”
Xu Zheng didn’t stop what
he was doing.
“Are you listening?!”
Xu Zheng didn’t respond.
Xu Ping squashed a sand
pile under his foot. “What’s wrong with you? Did you not hear me?!”
Xu Zheng slowly turned his
head around, looking at the scattered sand for a while and then looking up at
Xu Ping.
“I’m going to the bookstand.
Are you coming?”
Xu Zheng turned back
around and started shovelling faster. The shovel scraped the bucket, making
clanging noises.
“He’s probably still mad
at me,” Xu Ping thought.
He couldn’t be bothered.
He packed up his bag and swung it over his shoulder.
“If you’re not coming then
stay here and play with your sand, and I’ll come back for you later.” He added
after a pause, “Don’t run off with strangers. I’ll bring you a popsicle when I
come back.”
Xu Zheng didn’t speak.
“Did you hear me?” Xu Ping
slapped his brother’s shoulder.
Xu Zheng turned his
shoulder away.
“Yes!” he shouted angrily.
Xu Ping was far too
excited for Heroes of Sui and Tang to
care.
He reached into his pocket
for the two yuan his dad left him before leaving. A popsicle cost
five fen and the comic book was thirty-five fen. That left him with…
Xu Ping calculated with
his fingers as he skipped away merrily.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
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ayszhang: Here's the second chapter~ As you can see, they are not terribly long so the progress with TDDUP won't really be held back. After I finish TDDUP, I might be able to release 7-8 chapters a month (if I don't start another story that is). This week is finals week for me. Have tons of stuff due and tests T_T so only one chapter of Brother from me next Friday. After the 22nd, I will have so much free time so expect more starting in mid-Feb :)
One
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The comic book series
An illustration of Cheng Yaojin and his weapon.
The Chung Hwa pencil that Xu Ping uses.
(I used these in elementary school too!!!)
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
ayszhang: Here's the second chapter~ As you can see, they are not terribly long so the progress with TDDUP won't really be held back. After I finish TDDUP, I might be able to release 7-8 chapters a month (if I don't start another story that is). This week is finals week for me. Have tons of stuff due and tests T_T so only one chapter of Brother from me next Friday. After the 22nd, I will have so much free time so expect more starting in mid-Feb :)
One
Brother - English Translation by ayszhang is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
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