Chapter 33: Three Childhood Friends

“Grandma, Grandpa won’t let me climb Mount Tai with my classmates…” Gu Bin, quick as lightning, caught his old Beijing cloth shoe and, acting thoroughly wronged, complained toward the curtain.

“It’s just a trip to Mount Tai—what’s the harm in going?”

Grandma briskly lifted the curtain and stepped out of the room.

“This boy’s got ulterior motives. Does he really want to climb a mountain? What he wants is…”

Grandpa tried to argue, but when he met Grandma’s disapproving gaze, his bravado faded noticeably.

“Grandpa tried to hit me with a shoe…”

Gu Bin seized the opportunity to fan the flames, handing over the evidence for Grandma to see.

Spotting the shoe, Grandma’s anger only flared higher. “That stinky shoe of yours—just the smell from three meters away gives me a headache, and yet you take it off to hit little Bin…”

“Pfft.”

Gu Bin, hiding behind his grandmother, couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter.

“Is it really that bad?”

Taking advantage of his tipsy state, Grandpa grumbled in disbelief, pulled off the other shoe, and held it to his nose for a sniff.

“Don’t mind him, little Bin.”

Unable to watch any longer, Grandma tossed the shoe back at her husband, then pulled her grandson toward the house. “Grandma made mung bean soup for you—let’s go inside and have some together…”

“Alright!”

Gu Bin tried to stifle his laughter, answering obediently, putting on his sweetest, most well-behaved manner in front of Grandma.

The old and the young disappeared into the house, and in the blink of an eye, the courtyard was empty.

“That little rascal—full of crafty ideas, all wasted on outfoxing his own family.”

Grandpa chuckled, slipped his shoes back on, sprawled onto the deck chair under the shade, and closed his eyes to enjoy the cool breeze.

—

Like Lin Xiyu, Gu Bin grew up with his grandparents in the old quarter of the city. Children from the old neighborhood went to the local Daming Lake Primary School.

Qu Peng, Wang Fan, and Li Liang were his childhood friends.

The four of them shared the same temperaments and hobbies, were similar in height, and grew up together all the way from elementary school to high school, inseparable. Anyone unaware of the truth would have mistaken them for real brothers.

As the old Jinan saying goes, they “grew up wearing the same pair of pants.”

Qu Peng’s grandfather and parents were all police officers, and he too had aspired to join the force from a young age, determined to carry on the family tradition.

Li Liang’s father was in the navy, while his mother, years before, had been sent to the countryside of RZ City as a public school teacher and was never able to transfer back.

His parents lived apart for years, and his mother, not wanting her son to suffer in the countryside, sent him home to be cared for by his grandparents.

Li Liang, too, had been raised by elders since childhood, with only rare chances to see his parents throughout the year.

Wang Fan’s parents were shrewd; after the economic reforms, they spotted business opportunities, quit their jobs, ventured into private enterprise, and started a building materials company. They became some of the first to strike it rich—early pioneers, the ones who dared to eat the proverbial first crab.

With the family’s comfortable finances, Wang Fan was notorious for showing off. He rode a flashy Jinan Light Cavalry Mustang motorcycle worth 5,400 yuan, parading it through the streets and even breaking school rules by riding it onto campus.

Unsurprisingly, he became the bane of the discipline coordinator’s existence, and his name was called out for criticism at every school assembly.

—

That afternoon, the “Springwater Homes” production crew moved to the Wangfu Pool for filming.

Lin Xiyu was still wearing the same blue belted denim dress from home that morning. Facing the camera with confidence, she recited her prepared script flawlessly.

“Zhuoying Spring, also known as Zhuoying Lake and commonly referred to as the Wangfu Pool, is located in the middle section of Wangfu Pool Street. It is mentioned in renowned works such as the Jin Dynasty’s ‘Inscription of the Bright Spring,’ Yan Bi’s ‘Seventy-Two Springs Poems’ from the Ming Dynasty, and Hao Zhigong’s ‘Record of the Seventy-Two Springs’ from the Qing Dynasty.”

“The name ‘Zhuoying’ comes from the classic ‘Mencius: Gao Lou I’—‘If the water of the Canglang River is clear, I can wash my cap strings in it’—and is thus named from this line.”