Back then, people didn’t really have anything worth showing off—everyone’s lives were pretty much the same. Your family ate cabbage, theirs had potatoes; no one was really better off than anyone else. So the only thing that could set you apart was your children. Whose daughter was pretty, whose son was sturdy, whose grandson was smart, or whose child was tall—these were all advantages, and definitely things you could show off.

“I still have to finish my dad’s homework, otherwise I’ll have to go back to daycare. I’ll visit your workplace another time.” Brian Carter had absolutely no intention of going to his grandpa’s workplace. Mainly, it was just too far—he’d have to transfer buses two or three times, and after getting off, there was still a long walk. He’d been there once in his later years of middle school to help his grandpa with medical reimbursements, and it nearly wore him out.

“You really want to study at home by yourself? Who’s going to teach you? If you don’t want to go to daycare, I’ll talk to your dad! Don’t think just because your dad’s a university teacher, he can boss me around—if I glare at him, he still gets scared!” Brian Carter’s grandpa didn’t really believe in Brian Carter’s study plan. He didn’t have much education himself, but he knew that a four-year-old kid trying to teach himself to read wasn’t exactly realistic. If no one taught him, how could he possibly recognize characters on his own? That’d be like a little monster!

“I want to give it a try. I can go listen in at my uncle’s school. I won’t go into the classroom, just listen from the hallway.” Brian Carter had already thought up his excuse. Right behind their building was Yonghegong Middle School, which had classes from elementary through high school. Brian Carter’s uncle was in junior high there, and Brian Carter often went to the school to tattle on his uncle. The gatekeeper saw he was just a kid and never bothered to stop him.

“…Looks like your dad finally has something to hope for—he’s got a good son! Alright! Grandpa won’t stop you. Study hard and make your dad proud. Other than your dad, no one in our family has ever gone to college. Maybe our ancestors are blessing us, and you’ll be the first! Here, this is your reward from Grandpa—go buy yourself a popsicle!” Brian Carter’s grandpa was left speechless by him. He patted Brian Carter’s head, pondering for a long time, but still couldn’t figure out where his grandson had come up with this idea.

But the old man wasn’t confused. Even though he didn’t think much of Brian Carter’s dad’s prospects as an intellectual, he knew that in China, throughout history, scholars had never really been mistreated. Even when labeled as “stinking intellectuals,” Brian Carter’s dad still earned a much higher salary than an ordinary worker. The old man understood this well—studying more was definitely not a bad thing! So now Brian Carter had another coin in his pocket—a big five-cent piece!

After leaving Ditan Park, Brian Carter followed his grandpa back to the front of his own building. Grandpa went straight to work from there, while Brian Carter stood in the open space in front of the building, looking up at the three-story building, not moving for a long time.

This was where he lived until sixth grade—basically his entire childhood. Behind every window was a memory. And it wasn’t just childhood memories; when he got married, he and his wife moved back here and lived for more than ten years until he traveled through time. It wasn’t that his family didn’t have other houses—he just didn’t want to live with his parents. Plus, even though his grandparents had passed away, his uncle still lived in their old courtyard. He felt more comfortable here than at his parents’ place. If he didn’t feel like cooking, he’d just go to his uncle’s for a meal.

Now, the open space in front and behind the building was wider than a basketball court. In later years, it was all built up—there wasn’t even room for a single car to get in. The nearby alley was the same. Back then, huge Liberation trucks hauling cabbages from the suburbs could drive through the alley with ease. In later years, half the alleys became parking lots, and if a clumsy driver came in, they’d get stuck halfway and cause a traffic jam for sure. Neighbors often argued over parking spaces—Brian Carter had experienced that too. By then, the alleys had lost all the flavor of his childhood. They were still called “hutongs,” but they were no different from main roads.

“Wah… wah wah wah…” Just as Brian Carter was standing there lost in thought, a middle-aged woman came out of the entrance to Unit 1. She gestured at Brian Carter and called out with “wah wah” sounds.

“Got it, I’m going now!” Brian Carter gestured back at her. She was a neighbor—both she and her husband were deaf-mute. The building had two units: Unit 1 was closer to the street and managed by the Civil Affairs Bureau, while Unit 2 was near the school’s back gate and managed by the Housing Bureau. Brian Carter had grown up living next to these two deaf-mute families, so he could manage some simple sign language. The aunt had just asked why he hadn’t gone to daycare.

“Xiao Tao! My dad’s taking me to daycare—do you want to come with us?” At that moment, a little girl burst out of the Unit 2 entrance. She was just wearing green pants and a white top with a lace collar, but she still looked like a little butterfly.

“I’m older than you, so you should call me Brother Tao. And tell Uncle Jin to stop giving you tetracycline, or your teeth will turn black!” Brian Carter looked at the little girl, imagining what she’d look like when she grew up, swallowed hard, and then grinned like a big bad wolf.