Volume 1, Chapter 3: A Formal Apology

Reviewing until ten o’clock at night, Gao Yuan could no longer hold on. Perhaps because he had just been reborn, he was still not quite accustomed to his current surroundings. Closing his textbook, Gao Yuan stood up and stretched. Seeing a faint light coming from the inner room, he knew his father was still awake.

He walked to the door and spoke softly, “Dad, don’t stay up too late. Get some rest early; you have to get up early for work tomorrow.”

He truly cared for his father. Since his father had been sent to Shougang for labor reform, he had to pedal their only heavy-duty bicycle fifty kilometers every day from Beixinqiao Street to Shijingshan for work, starting before dawn. He had been riding that route for nearly six years without ever being late. Being late was seen as a sign of a poor attitude toward reform and would lead to public criticism sessions.

Gao Yuemin opened the door and looked at Gao Yuan. Being perceptive, he sensed something unusual about his son today. Gao Yuan was usually mischievous—at seventeen or eighteen, he was certainly in a rebellious phase—but today he was extraordinarily obedient. What could have caused such a drastic change?

The reason Gao Yuemin hadn’t gone to bed was because he had been pondering this question. After much thought, he still couldn’t figure it out.

Looking at the bruise on his son’s cheek—the mark left by a punch from Qiao Dong—Gao Yuemin sighed and said, “Don’t stay up too late. Learning is never an overnight achievement; it’s a process of long-term accumulation. Go to bed early. Tomorrow, you should go to your Uncle Qiao’s house and formally apologize to Qiao Shan. Only by resolving this conflict can you settle down and study properly.”

Gao Yuan immediately replied, “Don’t worry, I’ll go apologize early tomorrow morning. I know that unless this knot is untied, neither I nor Qiao Shan can focus on our studies.”

Hearing this, Gao Yuemin nodded with relief and patted his son’s arm. “Good that you understand. There’s still a can of malted milk powder in the kitchen. Take it to your Uncle Qiao tomorrow.”

Malted milk powder was a prized commodity in this era.

Gao Yuan shook his head, reluctant. “No need. I’ll just bring some apples. The malted milk powder should be left for you to nourish your health.”

Gao Yuemin thought it over and agreed. Even if his son had drunkenly gone to your house to profess his love for your daughter, he was reckless and wrong, but there was no need for you and your father to have beaten him up. Besides, after the beating, you both came to our house to complain. You’ve beaten and scolded him enough. Now, if I let Gao Yuan go apologize and make a gesture, that should be enough to save face for your family.

Malted milk powder is too grand a gift; it’s better to leave it be.

Looking at the injury on Gao Yuan’s face, Gao Yuemin sighed and said, “If you don’t want to bring it, then don’t. When your mother comes home this weekend, she can nourish your health.”

Gao Yuan smiled and agreed, then gently pushed his father back inside to rest. He took off his clothes, climbed onto the upper bunk, and slipped under the covers. After tossing and turning for a while, he finally drifted into a hazy sleep.

But this sleep was not peaceful—he wasn’t so carefree as to be completely untroubled.

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Experiencing rebirth was an extraordinary thing; anyone who went through it would feel astonished, fearful, incredulous, and then overjoyed. Upon waking the next day, Gao Yuan looked around the simple room, confirming once again that he had indeed returned to the cold winter of 1977.

To be honest, this was not the best of times, but it was the last darkness before dawn. Once he survived this year and the Third Plenary Session of the Eleventh Central Committee convened next year, the era of reform, opening up, and socialist modernization would begin.

Gao Yuan ruffled his messy hair and climbed out of bed. He put on a maroon wool sweater, baggy cotton pants covered by military green trousers, tucked his long underwear into wool socks, and slipped on a pair of old black cloth shoes with multiple layers on the sole.

Looking at this outfit, so distinctly characteristic of the era, Gao Yuan chuckled softly. He grabbed an enamel basin, placed a towel, soap, toothpaste, and toothbrush inside, then opened the door and headed for the communal water basin in the courtyard.

The shared courtyard housed four families, sharing water. Makeshift sheds and small kitchens were scattered everywhere, with bits and pieces strewn across the ground. The neighbors didn’t get along well; in fact, tensions ran high.

The root of this discord was Gao Yuemin’s longstanding desire to reclaim their old house. Once he made a move, it would infringe on the interests of the other three households. Those families were all assigned to live here by the authorities. If the Gao family reclaimed the house, the others would have to move out and apply for housing through their work units. Otherwise, they would have nowhere to sleep but the streets.

Gao Yuan recalled that in his previous life, his father had indeed spent over two years negotiating this matter, until the higher-ups finally relented and returned the house to their family. However, the three other households stubbornly refused to leave. Eventually, it was his unscrupulous young uncle who resorted to some unsavory tactics that drove the three families off, albeit with much cursing.

Today’s weather was good—cold, but bright and sunny. It was already eight o’clock, and everyone who needed to work had left the courtyard, except for the retired couple Liu Qianjin and his wife in the east house, who seemed busy inside.

Gao Yuan turned on the faucet to brush his teeth and wash his face. When he finished, he glanced toward the east house and spotted Aunt Liu peeking furtively out the window.

Aunt Liu was a busybody, always gossiping and stirring up trouble. She was the source of about eighty percent of the neighborhood’s quarrels.

Gao Yuan usually kept his distance from her—not out of fear, but simply because he didn’t want to waste time arguing with a shrew.

Seeing her spying again, he rolled his eyes, pressed a finger against the pipe’s spout leaving a small gap, and turned the tap all the way open. The water pressure surged.

With a sharp hiss, the water sprayed straight at the east house window.

Startled, Aunt Liu yelped and took three steps back, stamping her foot and cursing, “You little bastard, are you looking for trouble?!”

Gao Yuan picked up the basin, draped the towel over his shoulders, laughed heartily, and went back inside.

He put on a padded jacket covered by a blue smock, then stood before the wall-hung mirror adorned with a peony flower pattern. The reflection showed a sharply defined face: slightly long hair with sideburns almost covering his ears, bright eyes, a high nose bridge, rosy lips, and white teeth. A faint smile added a touch of rebellion to his handsome features.

At 1.79 meters tall, he was considered quite tall for the time, though a bit thin—standing in front of the mirror like a telephone pole.

Fortunately, at seventeen, his health was excellent, with a strong heart and pulse.

Satisfied, he tugged at the corners of his mouth, grabbed a mesh bag, locked the door, and stepped out of the courtyard.

Gao Yuan’s home was located in Xinkai Road Alley, a 742-meter-long lane running east to west, extending from Chaoyangmen South Street in the east to Dongdan North Street in the west.

This alley had a history of over 400 years.

In the Ming Dynasty, it was part of the Ming Shi Fang and was called “Xinkai Kou.” During the Qing Dynasty, it was placed under the jurisdiction of the Bordered White Banner. In the reign of the Aisin Gioro, it was officially named Xinkai Road Alley, a name that has continued to this day.

Many famous residences were located along the alley, the most notable being the Prince Ning Mansion—the home of Prince Ning, the grandson of Kangxi, and the fourth son of Prince Yixian, Aisin Gioro Hongxiao.

Also notable was No. 73, the residence of the director of Xiehe Hospital. The hospital’s first Chinese director had lived there for many years.

Walking along, Gao Yuan observed the residences lining the street with great interest; the atmosphere was quaint and steeped in history.

Passing the supply and marketing cooperative, he bought two jin of apples, placed them in his mesh bag, and headed south toward East Fourth Tenement. He stopped in front of No. 13.

The gate was open, so Gao Yuan paused and glanced inside before entering the courtyard.

This was Qiao Shan’s home, a single-family compound.

As soon as he entered, Qiao Dong, who was emptying a chamber pot, saw him.

Qiao Dong’s face was dark, and he asked gruffly, “What are you doing here again?”

Gao Yuan smiled awkwardly and stepped forward. “Dong Ge, I came to apologize to Qiao Shan.”

Seeing the apples in his hand, Qiao Dong snorted. “No need. You should just go back. Don’t show up in front of my sister anymore. If I hear you bother her again, don’t blame me for being harsh.”

A clear voice came from inside the house: “Brother, who are you talking to?”