"That’s a relief. Business at our factory is getting worse too. What do you think about me setting up a stall outside the school?" Li Guizhen thought it would be better for her to do it than Yang Meizhen.
"Do you know how to run a business?" Yang Jianjun looked at her skeptically.
"Are you saying your sister can do it, but I can’t?" Li Guizhen was indignant.
"You’re just not cut out for it. Better stick to your job," Yang Jianjun said, then went to wash up and sleep, ignoring Li Guizhen’s sulking.
On the other side, Yang Jiabo quietly approached Yang Meizhen. "Auntie, I want to discuss something with you."
"What is it?" Yang Meizhen looked at him curiously.
"I think you shouldn’t sell scallion pancakes."
"Why not?"
"You know how my mom is, and scallion pancakes don’t make much money anyway. How about we team up and set up a mobile stall to sell sour and spicy noodles?" Yang Jiabo’s eyes sparkled. Yang Meizhen’s earlier suggestion had given him a new idea.
"You little schemer, how do you want to team up?" Yang Meizhen didn’t take him seriously, thinking she was just humoring a child.
"I’ll provide the recipe and the capital, and you’ll do the work. We’ll split the profits fifty-fifty. How does that sound?"
"Where did you get the money?" Yang Meizhen was surprised.
"I earned it from selling vegetables," Yang Jiabo trusted his aunt not to betray him, so he didn’t hide it.
"Wow, you’re richer than your dad."
"Anyone is richer than my dad. His pockets are emptier than his face," Yang Jiabo sighed.
"How can you talk about your dad like that?"
"I’m just telling the truth. Auntie, if you agree, we can start right after my military training."
"Are you sure this will work?" Yang Meizhen looked at him doubtfully.
"I’ll make some for you to try first, and then you’ll see if it works," Yang Jiabo was confident in his cooking skills.
"Alright then," Yang Meizhen still didn’t take Yang Jiabo’s words seriously.
For the next six days of military training, Yang Jiabo left early and returned late, utterly exhausted. This time, the competition between schools included three events: marching, military boxing, and emergency rescue.
Yang Jiabo, who had practiced martial arts before, was assigned to the military boxing team. Speaking of martial arts, Yang Jiabo was also a bit helpless. His maternal uncle, who taught basketball and martial arts at school, had once asked him if he wanted to play basketball or learn martial arts.
Yang Jiabo, without hesitation, chose basketball. He wanted to grow taller, ideally to 180 cm. But his uncle took one look at him and sent him straight to the martial arts team. The martial arts team, led by his uncle, had won several awards at the provincial martial arts competition the previous year, especially in long fist, which they won every year.
However, Yang Jiabo was lazy, he practiced martial arts like fishing for three days and drying nets for two. In the end, he only learned two sets of moves, long fist and snake fist. Naturally, he wasn’t selected for competitions. He was just there to appease his uncle and pass the time.
[三天打鱼，两天晒网 (sān tiān dǎ yú, liǎng tiān shài wǎng) - lit. fish for three days and sun/dry nets for two; fig. to work or study intermittently without persistence]
Like all kids, Yang Jiabo once had a dream of becoming a martial arts hero. At first, he was extremely enthusiastic about martial arts. But one day, when he went to his uncle’s house to play with his cousin, he saw his uncle in the yard, studying a published book titled Shaolin Boxing. His family had several such books hidden on top of their wardrobe, his father’s treasures. They had to be hidden, or else his mom might use them as kindling or sell them as scrap paper.
The day before the competition, the school issued them a set of imitation military uniforms. Surprisingly, they looked quite impressive when worn. On the day of the competition, the football stadium was packed. City and military leaders, school teachers, students’ parents, reporters from newspapers and TV stations, and curious onlookers filled the stands.
The competing teams stood on the field, their formations neat, their uniforms identical, and their presence imposing. Each team was led by their instructor, all of whom came from the same military unit. Yang Jiabo, wearing a small green military uniform, stood at the front of his team. The view was great, but it also highlighted one problem, he was short.
After the assembly, the military leaders arrived in a jeep. The leader’s uniform was impeccably pressed, without a single wrinkle. It seemed the military’s obsession with neatness extended from top to bottom. The leader stood on the vehicle as it slowly drove past. "Comrades, hello!"
"Hello, sir!" the students responded loudly.
"Comrades, you’ve worked hard."
"We serve the people!"
Even though they were just elementary school students, the scene was still exhilarating. But then an inappropriate voice broke through. A mischievous boy behind Yang Jiabo shouted, "We serve the leader!"
"Cough—" Yang Jiabo choked on his own saliva. In such a serious moment, he had to suppress his laughter. He really wanted to smack the troublemaker behind him.
No comments:
Post a Comment