I was accepted by a university in a coastal city. Xie did not make it to a university and had to retake university-entrance exams next year.
I felt particularly bad for her. I knew whatever I wanted to say wouldn’t make her feel any better. Each time we met, when she put up such a happy face, trying to share my excitement and success, it only made my heart ache more.
First month in the university, in my dorm, like everyone else who had spent a lot of time writing to relatives back home, I wrote to Xie frequently, telling her about how the university looked like, with whom I was sharing the dorm, what courses I was going to take. I was careful enough not to sound too excited. She wrote back, often in one or two pages, mainly comprising of wishes and encouragement.
Finally, I was free, like a bird eager to test fledging wings. Away from home; new environment; new people.
1989, every newly-accepted university student had to go through a three-month military training. The idea was to instill military-type discipline in all students so they would be docile and more manageable. There was no way the students could be trained into robots in three months. But the training wasn’t without its fun. The only thing everyone hated was the ugly military outfits. Try to image those ragtag militants in the movies. Yeah, that was us. At least those militants in the movies looked clean. We were dirty and smelly.
There were four bunker beds in my dorm, accommodating eight students from different places across the country. Like all the other dorms on the campus, we quickly exchanged date of birth and sworn a brotherhood. I ranked as the fifth oldest among eight students in the dorm. They all called me Diamond Five – I declared I wouldn’t get married in my life, because I loved women, and I couldn’t tolerate a marriage that would restrict me to one woman throughout my life.
There were many wonderful things happening on the campus. But my letters to Xie were fewer and shorter.
To my great dismay, none of the girls in my class was good-looking, and only a few were above campus average. Very depressing and discouraging! So, as the diplomat of my dorm, I started to scan the whole campus to look for a “Friendly-Dorm” for my dorm. Basically, Friendly-Dorm was a prearrangement that all the boys in one dorm would invite all the girls in another dorm for a social outing, or more commonly, a movie – group dating in essence. I did not know which coward came up with such a dating idea. Nothing was as silly as that, and it could be every messy. I failed to find one for my dorm. I took the blame for a full month, because the whole dorm was without a single date and playing cards pathetically became a primary pastime during the weekends – eight guys, yelling and shouting, amid piles of pots and plates with yesterday’s leftover in them, puffing cigarettes smoke and inhaling stale aroma from socks, were as hungry as hell and any high-heel footsteps from the outside window could cause a fanatic rush to the window and a competition for the best spot. Eight heads stacked on the windowsill, hooting and whistling.
Then an unexpected thing happened and turned me into a hero.
The girls of a dorm from other department knocked on our door. One of them was said to start noticing me during the military training. It took other girls some time to help her find out who I was. Thus, we had our own Friendly-Dorm. I couldn’t believe my luck. I was desperate and would date the building genitor to fulfill my duty. But it did not work out since day one.
The first scheduled date between two dorms was a movie and a stroll on the beach after that. But when all of us, after putting on our best clothes, showed up in front of girls’ dorm, there was only one girl in the room - the one who liked me. It was obviously a setup to hook her up with me. All the other 7 faces became livid instantly. We left with humiliation and anger. I couldn’t believe one day I was a hero of my dorm and a total disappointment the next day. Ironically, a week later, a dorm from my own class gracefully accepted us and ended the whole stupid thing.
I did not tell Xie about those interesting and exciting things on my campus, merely making up some boring things in my letter such as my study and the professors etc.
I went back home during the Spring Festival. Xie was the first one I met. With a lot to catch up, we talked quite late into the night till her mother kept coming into her room to remind us. I had a lot more to tell her, but I couldn’t, in case my excitement might make her sadder. Maybe it was my turn to listen and offer my shoulder, but she did not talk much, only asking about my life, her eyes glistening with great interest, as beautiful as they ever were.
Next day, we went to play table tennis, revisited our high school, snuck into that university, trying to relive the past experience. But both of us knew what was gone was gone. Things were different now.
I did not forget my goal – to go to USA. Second year in my university life, I skipped a lot of useless courses and passed them through bribery and plagiarism and I didn’t feel shame about it. Basic courses such as History of China’s Revolution, Ethics and Socialism Planed Economy, were downright junks. I didn’t spend one day in class for them. I was in the library instead, researching all the universities in US. Then I started to send some letters asking for application forms. I also sent some inquiries to universities in UK and Australia. The application mails started raining in during the middle of the term. My roommates were stunned by those letters piled on my bed. I couldn’t hide them. I couldn’t possibly hide anything from seven pairs of watchful eyes. Then a rumor started, saying I was skipping classes because I was accepted by some universities in US. Within several months, the rumor had developed into something like I was accepted by Harvard, Stanford, Yale, Cambridge and a bunch of other universities, full scholarship, and I was torn among choices. Quickly, the news reached other departments. Then, there were girls came to make my bed and do my laundry and some others gave me their food stamps they saved (Our food was still subsidized by the state through food stamps). I felt like a king, everyday, staring at those application forms and dreaming one of them would get me a pass to USA. I did not explain and let the rumor whirl on its own because I needed the food stamps.
I was seeing different girl each month like an idiot. I knew it was not real and I felt huge emptiness in my heart.
By that time, my letter to Xie had been reduced to one letter per month. Only half page in each letter, saying nothing but describing how busy I was.
That summer, Xie was accepted by a college in an adjacent province. I was truly happy for her, like a big stone removed from my chest; finally, I could breathe again. At the Spring Festival of the second year, I went to home again. Finally I could pour out all these wonderful and exciting things in my university and listen to hers. We had a lot to catch up.
My mother was particularly happy that we maintained this relationship for so long and that she would not accept other girls as her daughter-in-law.
We still listened to Qi Qin’s songs, and I walked her home in the evenings, showering in bright moonlight, our dragged long shadows accompanying us. Walking beside me was no longer that girl knew before, but a mature, confident and cheerful girl, probably with a whole army of boys waiting to date her. I did not know why, seeing her made me calm and relaxed.
Third year in the university, letters from universities continued being sent to me – rejection letters this time. I felt I was far and far away from my goal. And I was rather depressed and lost. I particularly missed Xie. But I thought she deserved a wonderful life of her own, no need to spoil her enjoyment with my failure. Often, I was sitting on the beach, imaging Xie sitting beside me and watching me with her beautiful eyes, and listening to Qi Qin’s song Blank, over and over...
Your long sadness, gently touches my heart,
Passing by me each morning, is your inexplicable love;
Your endless tears, gently block my sky,
Passing through me in my memory, is your pure tenderness.
I don’t know what is love; it usually is a black in my heart.
I don’t know what is love; what is past and what is future.
...
