YPHC Chapter 87

Later, A-Shu would often wonder whether his mother was disappointed with life, with Lin Disheng, or with him.

 

He would wonder if things might have been different if he had been more careful that day and successfully delivered the tin box to his mother.

 

A-Shu knew the card and money were important to his mother, knew she wanted to use them to leave, to go home.

 

Of course, his mother had said she didn’t want to have any connection with him, so she probably wouldn’t have taken him with her.

 

That was fine too. Even if he couldn’t be with her, A-Shu still hoped she could fulfill her wish.

 

He just wondered, if he had done what his mother hoped for, would she have been happy?

 

At least, before leaving, would her gaze toward him have been gentler? Would she have kissed his forehead like before?

 

But he hadn’t succeeded, and he got nothing.

 

He only received a disappointed, disgusted look through the glass.

 

Perhaps his mother really did hate him.

 

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have left so silently, hanging herself alone on the tree.

 

After she left, Xiaoer Shi village was still Xiaoer Shi village, Lin Disheng was still Lin Disheng. It seemed that apart from a solitary grave added to the barren hills behind the village, nothing had changed.

 

A-Shu was still A-Shu. He still cooked, fed the chickens, fed the pigs, and grew vegetables every day. None of his chores decreased.

 

Occasionally, when he could squeeze out some time, he would still go sit under the old elm tree. He didn’t know what else to do, so he would just recite the poem his mother often recited, and when spring came the next year, he would take a handful of elm seeds to plant on her grave.

 

After the woman left, Lin Disheng’s habit of beating people didn’t improve; in fact, it got worse, and his blows became more vicious.

 

Now that the woman was gone, only A-Shu remained in the house, and naturally, he wouldn’t be spared.

 

Most of the beatings A-Shu received were without reason. Lin Disheng seemed to find pleasure in it, breaking bottles after drinking and making him pick up the pieces, kicking and hitting him when in a bad mood, or putting out cigarettes on his body when he couldn’t find an ashtray.

 

A-Shu’s body was covered with new wounds on top of old ones, never having a day to heal properly. He knew he couldn’t fight back, so he never resisted.

 

What could he do? Just struggle to survive day by day.

 

Perhaps, as his mother said, he was born unlucky. Or perhaps, as Lin Disheng said, he was a worthless spawn, so he deserved to suffer.

 

But A-Shu always remembered what his mother had told him.

 

She said the mountains were too vast, but the world he could see was too small.

 

She also said she hoped that one day he could leave this place, see the outside world, and experience a different life.

 

But could he really?

 

The year A-Shu finally resolved to leave, he was twelve years old.

 

Old Man Li, who lived at the village entrance, was considered the most well-off person in the village. Not only was his house the largest, but he also liked to tinker with electronic devices.

 

He had a digital camera and, for some reason, always liked to take pictures of A-Shu.

 

He would also invite A-Shu to his home and, rather pointlessly, have him sort mixed red and green beans. While A-Shu sorted, he would stand nearby with his camera taking photos, or sit on a stool watching A-Shu with a gaze and smile that A-Shu didn’t quite understand. After A-Shu finished sorting the beans, he would give him a few coins as payment.

 

Old Man Li often complimented A-Shu on his looks, saying he took photos of him because he liked him. He would hold A-Shu’s hand and ask if he would like to live at his house.

 

A-Shu disliked this behavior and always refused, but he didn’t mind coming to Old Man Li’s house every couple of days to sort beans and let him look at him and photograph him. After all, it didn’t cost him anything, and he got paid, so there was no reason not to do it.

 

So A-Shu found a small tin box of his own, cleaned it, and hid it well, saving money a few coins at a time, and soon it was full.

 

On the day he finally left Xiaoer Shi village, A-Shu didn’t take much with him.

 

He only made a small cloth bundle containing a set of clothes, his savings, and a few photographs he had obtained from Old Man Li.

 

Old Man Li not only took photos but also developed them and showed them to A-Shu. Some of these were photos of A-Shu’s injuries, which looked terrible and frightening. A-Shu didn’t know why he took them.

 

A-Shu originally had no interest in these, but he remembered what his mother had once told him.

 

She said that what Lin Disheng was doing to him was illegal, that it was called child abuse. Unfortunately, the place was too remote, and no one was in charge, otherwise, if A-Shu kept some evidence, it would surely send Lin Disheng to jail.

 

A-Shu asked his mother what evidence meant, and she said photos, videos, anything that could prove the injuries on his body were caused by Lin Disheng-all these were called “evidence.”

 

A-Shu didn’t know if he could use these, but since his mother said they were useful, he kept them.

 

So A-Shu asked Old Man Li for a few photos, and in exchange, he sorted beans for Old Man Li for several days without earning any money.

 

A-Shu left when Lin Disheng was drunk. That night, Lin Disheng lay on the kang bed, dead drunk. A-Shu entered his room, found the small tin box that he had hidden in a new place, but didn’t take the contents or the money. Instead, he took it to the back hill, found his mother’s small grave in the dark, and buried what she had wanted in life but he hadn’t been able to get for her beside her. He left her a steamed bun he had saved from his dinner and silently kowtowed to her three times.

 

As his mother had said, the mountains were truly vast, and the road out was so long and far.

 

A-Shu didn’t know how long he walked or how many times he fell before reaching the main road. He only knew his body was both painful and itchy, covered with scratches from branches and bumps from insect bites, but even so, he couldn’t turn back.

 

He had to leave, as his mother had said, to get out of these mountains, to see a bigger and better world, to become a better person.

 

Perhaps because his first ten-plus years had been so unlucky, after leaving the village, his luck was relatively good-

 

The old man driving the ox cart thought he was going to the market, so he gave him a ride, taking him to the nearby town. Hearing his stomach growl, he even gave him a steamed corn bun to eat.

 

The town’s bus, which ran once every three days, was about to depart. He ran over, bought the last ticket just in time, and rode the creaking, bumpy vehicle away from Xizhou Mountain to a more distant and larger county town.

 

Was this the “outside world” his mother had spoken of?

 

A-Shu didn’t know, but the life before him was indeed much better than before.

 

That year he was only a little over thirteen, young and without identification, which theoretically meant he couldn’t find work. But the small county town wasn’t strictly regulated-as long as he could understand instructions and work, it was fine. Besides, A-Shu didn’t ask for much; having food to eat and a place to stay was enough.

 

During those days, he watched over internet cafes at night and transferred things, washed dishes at restaurants, did manual labor, and helped carry bricks and stones at construction sites.

 

He spoke little, caused little trouble, and was young, so those uncles and aunties were willing to look after him, giving him old clothes their families didn’t want, offering him small jobs, and feeding him.

 

The day he met Wei Yinghua was the biggest turning point in A-Shu’s life.

 

That year he was fifteen. Early in the morning, he was called to the construction site to carry bricks. During lunch, he sat alone in a corner with his lunch box, thinking the vegetables were quite fresh today. Looking up, he saw an older woman whose dress and appearance were completely at odds with the dusty construction site, walking toward him.

 

“Hello, young man, my name is Wei Yinghua. May I sit here and talk with you for a while?”

 

In his memory, Wei Yinghua was probably the gentlest person A-Shu had ever met, bar none.

 

“I’m not a bad person, I won’t trick you. I’m a director, I make films. I think you’re perfect for my character, so I asked many people and came here specifically to find you. I want to ask if you’d be willing to work with me for a while?”

 

A-Shu was a very cautious child, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived until now. He knew there were many scammers in this world, so initially he didn’t pay attention to Wei Yinghua, but she was truly persistent.

 

A-Shu couldn’t understand the qualifications, representative works, or work credentials Wei Yinghua showed him, but he could feel gentleness and sincerity from her.

 

Moreover, for someone like him who lived meal to meal, he really needed a stable job.

 

So he swallowed his food and spoke his first words to Wei Yinghua:

 

“…Does it include room and board?”

 

A-Shu was a troublesome person. He realized this because after Wei Yinghua brought him into the production, she faced strong opposition from other creative team members. Wei Yinghua had to think of countless ways, exhausting herself, to satisfy everyone and keep him by her side.

 

A-Shu couldn’t recognize all the characters, so he couldn’t fully understand the script. Before filming began, Wei Yinghua specially found a tutor to give him one-on-one Chinese language lessons.

 

Fortunately, A-Shu was smart and diligent, learning quickly and not being camera shy. Perhaps because the character’s experiences overlapped so much with his own, his performance was very natural. Wei Yinghua praised him endlessly, calling him intelligent and spirited, and more than once said that her choice had not been wrong.

 

At such times, A-Shu would think that he hadn’t disappointed her.

 

That was good.

 

However, he truly caused Wei Yinghua a lot of trouble.

 

He had no ID card, not even household registration. Just for this, Wei Yinghua had to go to many places, complete many procedures, and find many people to give him an official identity, so he wouldn’t continue to be a nameless hooligan.

 

On the day of registration, Wei Yinghua asked him what name he wanted to fill in.

 

He wanted to continue being called A-Shu, but Wei Yinghua said he couldn’t just be called “A-Shu”; he needed at least an official surname.

 

So what surname should he use?

 

He didn’t want to use Lin, didn’t want to have any similarity with Lin Disheng, but he also couldn’t use his mother’s surname Yu, because his mother had said she didn’t want him to have any connection with her.

 

So, A-Shu fell silent.

 

Finally, he picked up the pen and wrote three crooked characters on the white paper for Wei Yinghua.

 

“Jiang Nan’an.”

 

This was the name Wei Yinghua gave him.

 

That day, Wei Yinghua told him he needed a name for the film credits. It didn’t have to be his real name. Like other actors, he could give himself a stage name, both to protect his privacy and to distinguish his identity.

 

But A-Shu couldn’t recognize all the characters, how could he choose a name?

 

In the end, Wei Yinghua smiled and said to him:

 

“Have you heard a line of poetry, A-Shu? ‘Spring wind greens the south bank of the river again, when will the bright moon shine on my return?’

 

“It means the spring breeze has once again turned the scenery on the south bank of the river green, but when will the moon shine on me as I return home? Our film is called ‘Spring Wind,’ taken from this line of poetry, but in my adaptation, ‘home’ is not the place where someone was born. For the protagonist of this film, what he yearns for is freedom, inner peace, his ideal world. I believe the place that gives him a sense of belonging is his home. He’s always searching, following the spring wind, looking for a place to settle, finding a ‘home’ that belongs to him.

 

“‘Jiang Nan’an’ (South Bank of the River), if you can’t think of a better alternative, perhaps you could consider using these three characters for your name in this film. This is also my wish for you. The cold desolation of winter doesn’t represent forever; the seasons change, warmth always comes, and life is the same. A-Shu, just as the spring wind brings vitality to the south bank of the river every year, I hope you can also welcome your own warm spring day, meet your own moonlight, and find your own home.”

 

A-Shu had met two very good people in his life and had two very good names.

 

One called him “A-Shu” and told him to be like a tree.

 

To stand eternal with a posture free of joy or sorrow, to bask in sunlight, to flutter in the wind, very silent, very proud, never relying on others, never searching.

 

One called him “Jiang Nan’an” and told him that the past is not frightening.

 

Just as snowflakes will always melt, and the wind will bring lush greenery, even a desolate riverbank will one day welcome its own spring.

 

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