Chapter Fifty-Nine: Wounded by Love (Bonus Chapter)

PS: Alas, there’s a term called “operations”… I suppose I’ll start from learning to shamelessly beg. Please vote! Give me some clicks, recommendations, and bookmarks…

“She… she said our family isn’t qualified…” My aunt hesitated for a long time before finally telling the truth. It seemed the Revolutionary Committee had rejected her. She was desperate, treating Hong Tao as her last straw, though likely without much hope.

“Oh, you went to the Revolutionary Committee to apply? That’s easy enough. Our family must be qualified. Alright, leave it to me, I’ll handle it for you. Just wait for the news. Also, in the next few days, prepare all the clothing patterns you know how to make, the kind everyone likes. Understand?” Upon hearing the matter fell under the Revolutionary Committee, Hong Tao was instantly confident. The committee was run by a group of housewives; though their political awareness was high, their horizons weren’t lofty, and small favors still worked wonders.

“I’ve got them all prepared. As soon as you mentioned it, I got them ready—a whole book full!” My aunt was clearly invested and truly loved this line of work.

“That’s good. Don’t worry, this can’t be rushed. Wait for my news. I still need to discuss with Grandma and Grandpa; I need their approval first, right? Come along, let’s go watch TV.” Hong Tao sent his aunt off and didn’t return to his room. He went to his uncle’s room, planning to think carefully about how to persuade his grandparents and how to deal with the elder ladies of the Revolutionary Committee.

“Who’s there!” Just inside, before turning on the light, Hong Tao sensed someone on the bed, his hair standing on end. He turned to flee.

“Don’t shout… don’t shout… it’s me…” The person on the bed sat up—it was his uncle.

“You’re too old for these games… Who hit you?” Hearing the familiar voice, Hong Tao’s heart, which had leapt into his throat, finally settled. He switched on the light, closed the door, and then, looking up, his heart jumped again. His uncle looked like a panda—his left eye ringed in black and purple, his nose broken, stuffed with a wad of tissue, the front of his green shirt dotted with blood.

“Don’t worry about it. Don’t tell Grandpa, turn off the light!” His uncle didn’t answer, just flopped back onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling with one eye, the other swollen shut.

“Why turn off the light? I locked the door. Tell me who hit you? Where are Tiger Egg and the others?” Hong Tao walked over and pressed on his uncle’s bruised eye, making him wince and stop gazing at the ceiling.

“It won’t help to tell you. You still rely on me to fix your problems—what can you do? Nothing to do with Tiger Egg and the others. This was just me, got caught by those bastards.” His uncle pushed Hong Tao away, protecting his face from further probing.

“That’s not necessarily true. If you tell me, I can help. If you don’t, not only will I be useless, Grandpa will beat you. It won’t hurt to tell me, right?” Hong Tao felt his uncle seemed off today. He’d been beaten before—frequent river walkers can’t avoid wet shoes! Fights meant sometimes winning, sometimes losing; losing meant getting back at them. Usually, his uncle would be gathering his friends to plot revenge, not brooding alone in a dark room.

“…Do you know Pretty Girl?” His uncle didn’t answer but asked a question in return.

“Big Sister Pretty?!! You got beaten up because of her? Hahahaha!” At the mention of her name, Hong Tao understood immediately. No wonder his uncle wasn’t gathering his friends for revenge—it wasn’t a fight but a wound of the heart, inflicted by love. His uncle had a crush!

“Laugh again and I’ll hit you!” His uncle was driven to anger by Hong Tao’s laughter. Boys in love lose intelligence and gain temper, becoming little firecrackers.

“Heh heh… I’m not laughing… not laughing… Tell me, who hit you—was it her family, or someone else?” Hong Tao dodged before his uncle could rise, slipping to his own room’s door, ready to avoid his wrath. A man in love, even a boy, should not be provoked.

“Not her family, just some boys from the compound—I don’t know them.” His uncle trusted Hong Tao, and had nowhere else to vent. If his friends found out, they’d laugh at him. In those days, boys and girls pretended to disdain early romance, though secretly envious, always mocking others who showed interest.

“The compound? She lives there?” Hong Tao knew Big Sister Pretty, a third-year student in a different class from his uncle.

The nickname “Big Sister Pretty” wasn’t because she was ugly. In Beijing dialect, the word “pretty” covers much more than mere looks—its meaning depends on context. For example, pretty chess player, pretty show-off, pretty attitude, pretty money, pretty talker, etc.—the meanings are complex.

Big Sister Pretty got her nickname because she was good-looking and dressed stylishly. Girls at school called her Pretty Girl, boys called her Big Sister Pretty. As for her real name, Hong Tao didn’t know, only her nickname.

“Yes, the compound by the moat. She said they’d be showing a movie there tonight and invited me to watch it with her. Then I ran into those boys—they insisted I leave, and a fight broke out. It was just me against four of them.” His uncle recounted the events, emphasizing the numbers to prove he wasn’t cowardly, just outnumbered.

“Uncle, she invited you to watch the movie? What was she doing when you were beaten?” Hong Tao was sharper than his uncle, having sneaked over to a female classmate’s house to watch her brother’s tapes back in eighth grade—he understood the twists and turns of adolescent romance.

A girl like Big Sister Pretty couldn’t have only one admirer; living in the compound meant even more. First, it was necessary to confirm her attitude. If she conspired with the others to trap his uncle, then the issue lay with her, not the boys who beat him.

“She started by arguing with one of the boys, then we left, but they came back to cause trouble. When the fight started, she went to call adults.” His uncle described the scene.

“Oh, that’s easy then. At least you weren’t played… Don’t rush; first we need to deal with your eye, or Grandpa will scold you. Change your clothes, clean yourself up, and help me with the bike. Later, say you hit your eye on the handlebars by accident. And don’t go to the compound anymore—it’s not our territory. You can bring her to find me, and I’ll take her to Auntie, say Auntie can help alter her clothes. Auntie has lots of patterns. Once she gets familiar with Auntie, she can come to our house to visit, and you’ll be able to spend time with her openly! Here’s five yuan; take her to see a movie outside. If she’s shy, invite another girl to keep her company. Got it?” Hong Tao quickly devised a roundabout strategy for his uncle, advising him on courting girls and even sponsoring his activities.

“You even know about this?!” His uncle’s spirits revived upon hearing Hong Tao’s plan.

“All skills are connected. If you’d studied hard like I told you, you wouldn’t be stuck now! When you go out with her, don’t show off your money. Buy what’s necessary, don’t waste—quality over quantity… As for timing, you’ll have to gauge it yourself. Just remember, don’t let her see you as a big spender. Understand?” Hong Tao adopted Grandpa’s tone, seizing the chance to put his uncle in his place. If this inspired him to study harder, it wouldn’t be a bad thing.

But Hong Tao wasn’t hopeful. Even if his uncle wanted to learn, the environment wouldn’t allow it. Their class had few serious students—not their fault, but a result of the times. When they started school, teachers had been ousted, students left to their own devices, never forming good study habits. Now, in middle school, it was hard to change.

That night, while helping Hong Tao fix the bicycle, his uncle accidentally stepped on the handlebars, getting hit in the eye. This injury was honorable—a work-related accident. Not only did Grandpa not scold him, he rewarded him with twenty cents and a day off to rest at home.

The next day, instead of fighting for the ping-pong table during recess, Hong Tao went to the third floor to look for Big Sister Pretty.

“Hey, beautiful! I’ve got something to talk to you about. Mind stepping aside for a minute?” Big Sister Pretty was chatting with two girls by the corridor window when Hong Tao approached, wearing an innocent smile.

“…You’re looking for me?!” Big Sister Pretty turned, surprised. She knew Hong Tao—everyone did. On the first day of term, he’d argued with the vice principal on the podium. Throughout the semester, any fight near the ping-pong tables was likely started by him. Most of the third-year troublemakers had become his followers.