Beyond the Zenith

Han Qingyu’s name was given to him by a wandering old monk who had come from elsewhere to tend the ruined temple at the village.

When Han Qingyu was old enough to ask about it, he was told that it was because right around the time he was born, the rice seedlings in the paddies had just begun to turn yellow before turning green again. At the time, the mountain streams had overflowed, flooding the area, and the waters had been rising for several days. Therefore, his name had been chosen to ward off disaster.[1]

On that basis, the old monk had collected five pecks of rice[2] from each village along the river.

Nineteen years had passed since then. The year was 1990.

The solitary, silver-tongued old monk had made his living by fortune-telling, face-reading, and selecting auspicious dates and burial plots, but a few years ago, he had left for greener pastures.

In truth, by the old customs of certain rural areas, the name Qingyu was not quite appropriate. It was a bit too grand. However, no one in Fenglong Valley knew enough to say so. Their ignorance showed in the unwittingly grand name of their small mountain village itself. [3]

Across many generations, the people of Fenglong Valley had never known wealth, but the harvest from their terraced rice paddies was bountiful enough, and nobody ever suffered from hunger either.

Han Qingyu was the child of an ordinary farming family from this remote piece of land. His nineteen years of unremarkable life had only contained two events of any significance.

One was his first Gaokao exam[4] at the age of eighteen, which he promptly failed. The other was his second Gaokao exam, at the age of nineteen, which he also failed.

“It’s been twice now...” Han Qingyu muttered to himself, letting out a small, dejected laugh.

He sat beneath an old pear tree in the farmyard. It was very tall and housed an abandoned magpie nest among its branches. Dappled sunlight fell on the ground through the leaves.

He could have found some excuses if he wanted to.

For example, his Mandarin teacher used to be a postman, but he switched careers to become a teacher after managing to publish one tiny poem in a newspaper. His lessons consisted of him reciting his own poems aloud to the students—poems that had never been published since.

His English teacher was getting on in years. He had been sent down to the village many years before as an educated youth[5] to learn the ways of the countryside, but he had gotten involved with a girl from a prominent local family, and that had put an end to his chances of ever leaving. His original major was Russian, and his Mandarin carried a Tangshan accent. When he spoke English, all three accents tangled together into something harder to understand than any of the languages on their own.

But none of that really mattered. Failing was failing. There was no arguing with that.

At that moment, his mother came around the corner, and having heard his muttering, suggested, “Just take the exam again. How does the old saying go again? Third time’s the charm?”

She set down the wooden laundry basin she was carrying and picked up a wet piece of clothing. She wrung it out, shook it a few times, then hung it over a bamboo pole.

It was 1990. Failing the Gaokao was hardly a surprise, even in the late 1980s leading up to this point. It was perfectly normal for the average person to try two or three times. Zhang Jiexia was a practical woman. She was not very educated, nor was she inclined to despair over such things.

Take the exam again?

For a moment, something stirred in Han Qingyu’s chest. Deep down, he wanted to, but when he thought about the two subjects he had failed badly, the light in his eyes dimmed once more. “Another year probably won’t help... I don’t think I could do it again.”

He also kept some thoughts to himself. The tuition for high school was not cheap relative to his family’s income. These past few years, his parents had run up some debt paying for his schooling. Fewer hands on the farm also meant his parents had to work harder than most of their neighbors. He lacked confidence in his own ability to pass the exam and was too ashamed to try again.

“Is that so? Well, I don’t really understand these things either...”

His mother turned to study her son’s expression, trying to parse his thoughts. Han Qingyu had always been a decisive child. In recent years, he had even started to make decisions for the household too.

After thinking over his words for a moment, she finally said, “Then it’s up to you. It’s alright to stop here. You’ve come far enough in your education to be considered educated now...”

She meant to comfort him, not wanting to pressure him or force the issue.

However, as she spoke, she suddenly lit up and continued, “Why not just stay home, get married, and have children? You could start building your life!”

That last line ended in a higher pitch, filled with an eager warmth. Quite a few young men in the village about his age already had children running around—in other words, quite a number of impromptu weddings had taken place in the past few years.

Han Qingyu was well aware that his mother had been keeping this hope quietly in her heart, and glancing up, he gave her a resigned smile.

Zhang Jiexia’s enthusiasm had already been lit, and words came pouring out in an endless stream.

“I mean it! Wanfen’s mother, from Shanglong Village, has had her eye on you for ages! She’s dropped hints to me many times too. Why not—”

“Wanfen’s mother? No way!” Han Qingyu hastily interrupted.

“Why not?”

“Well... Wanfen’s father is still alive, and I haven’t heard anything about a divorce. Besides, Wanfen and I were in primary school together. It wouldn’t seem right for her to call me Dad, would it?” Han Qingyu grinned mischievously.

“What?” Zhang Jiexia froze for a moment, then caught on and huffed. “You little rascal, you’re always spouting nonsense... Alright, alright. If you’re back to your cheeky self again, I guess that means your father and I can rest easy now. These past two days, we’ve been worried that you’d take it too hard.”

They had been worrying all along but dared not show it, fearing that it would only burden their son.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Your great-uncle’s family is holding a banquet today. And tomorrow, your cousin has another matchmaking appointment. That last one didn’t go too well...”

With the weight off her shoulders, she started to talk about their relatives and neighbors, gradually growing louder and louder until her voice filled the whole yard.

His father, Han Youshan, had been sitting nearby, quietly weaving a bamboo basket. After some time, he lifted his head to look at his wife, then his son, then broke his careful silence, “If this doesn’t work out, we could try to find some connections to send Little Qing off to join the army. That’s a decent path too.”

No wonder he had not said a word this entire time. He was thinking about this. These days, joining the army was a genuinely good thing. There were no wars to fight, and with the right circumstances, a veteran could come home and get a job with the government. If he was lucky, he could even get promoted or sit the military examination and become an officer.

Han Youshan’s suggestion excited all three of them.

Zhang Jiexia lit up. “Oh, isn’t that right? Yes, that’s a good idea!”

Dropping the half-wrung clothes, she wiped her hands on her apron and started toward the house.

“We’d better hurry. I’ll go wrap up the two bottles of liquor we’ve been saving. Old Han, go to the village head’s house and ask him if it’s still possible—” Her rushing words and feet came to an abrupt halt as her expression fell, letting out a sigh as she turned back around. “Never mind. Even if there’s a spot for our village... The village head’s son, Jiasheng, is just the right age for it too, isn’t he? He’s probably been waiting a long time too... There’s no way they’d let our son go instead.”

“That... You’re right. I didn’t think of that,” said Han Youshan quietly, his expression falling too.

“It’s fine.” Han Qingyu tucked away his own disappointment and shot his parents a carefree smile. “I was still thinking things through anyway. Don’t worry. There will always be a way.”

“Mm.”

“Right.”

Another door had closed in front of their son. Han Youshan and Zhang Jiexia both fell quiet. The air in the yard felt heavy.

“Oh, right.” Zhang Jiexia broke the silence. “Little Qing, are you going to your great-uncle’s banquet tonight? If you don’t, I’ll start on dinner for you.”

Fenglong Valley was not very big, and most of the villagers would be attending a banquet like this. If her son went, his results would surely become the main topic of conversation. Zhang Jiexia had only offered to make dinner because she did not want him to lose face or feel bad.

“Of course I’m going.” Han Qingyu stood up, meeting his parents’ worried looks with a bright smile. “People are going to ask sooner or later. I’ll be getting an earful either way, so might as well get a mouthful too while I’m at it.”

His parents laughed at his joke. He was right. A banquet like this was a rare treat in Fenglong Valley. A grand occasion.

***

It was a typical celebratory banquet held by a farmer’s family. The food was nothing fancy, but there were at least a couple of dishes with chicken, duck, fish, or pork for the appearance of generosity, plus cigarettes and liquor.

The banquet ran past eight before it finally wound down, but the people did not disperse. Many neighbors, relatives, and acquaintances lingered, buzzing from the liquor and lips still gleaming from the oil in the food. They sat in a circle on the threshing ground not far from the host family’s home, smoking and chatting.

“The way I see it, if Tadpole[6] had managed to pass this time, they would’ve held their own banquet too. What a pity,” said someone regretfully while picking at his teeth.

In truth, not many families in the village were willing to support their child up until upper secondary. Counting both last year and this one, Han Qingyu was the only child in the village who had studied far enough to sit the Gaokao at all.

Han Youshan stepped in to answer for his son. “That’s right, he just... fell a little short.”

Han Qingyu was there too, but he was sitting along the edges of the crowd. He was tired, having been peppered with questions, both appropriate and inappropriate, throughout the banquet.

In truth, it was rough facing them. Putting malicious teasing and mockery aside, even kind words of concern and comfort only served to make him more depressed when heard on repeat. Although he looked calm on the surface, resentment was building up inside him.

“The school fees, the good food, year after year... You’re raising so many chickens, but you haven’t sold a single egg these past few years, have you? When you add it all up... It’s truly a pity,” that person continued with a sigh.

“It’s just a few eggs to feed a growing child. Why are you bringing up such things?!” Han Youshan took an irritated drag of his cigarette. “Besides, education stays with you. It’ll come in use eventually.”

“That’s right! Look at Tadpole! Even the way he carries himself looks cultured. At least, in the future, he won’t have to worry about finding a wife and putting together a dowry. Plenty of families would be willing to take him in,” a relative from the older generation chimed in with a forced chuckle, trying to steer the conversation away.

A new voice emerged, accompanied by a loud sigh. “Ah, all in all, Fenglong Valley still hasn’t produced its first university student.”

“I know, right? The village has been here for two hundred years, but even in the early days when it was doing well, there wasn’t a single scholar. It’s pretty weird if you ask me.” The speaker pointed at the distant mountains and added with some dissatisfaction, “I mean, the village has really good fengshui...”

Many people nodded and murmured in agreement. Since the olden days, it was said that the village had excellent fengshui. If not, it would not have had the word “dragon” in it.[7]

Han Qingyu and the others looked up. He had to admit that in the darkness of the night, the mountain range encircling the village did look like the spine of a crouching dragon. Then again, if one were to really look for it, many other mountain ranges in this world could also resemble a crouching dragon.

“Ah, yeah, about that... You young ones probably don’t know about it,” said an elder of the village, drawing on his pipe as he reminisced. “Many years ago, when I was in my teens, a travelling fortune teller said that this place was never going to produce anyone important.”

The crowd was surprised. “Why?”

The elder pointed at the mountains. “Because this dragon here has been bound. Look at the name of this place. It’s not named Dragon Valley, but Dragon-Sealing Valley. If there’s a power trapping a dragon in this place, don’t you think it can also trap a couple of nobodies who think they can become dragons?”

“Hm? I... suppose so?”

The logic seemed to fit. Many people felt the weight of it. Some marveled, while others grumbled. A perfectly reasonable explanation had been found for Han Qingyu’s two consecutive failures to enter university.

Many people turned to look for him, wanting to offer some comforting words.

Again? Han Qingyu wasn’t sure whether to cry or laugh. He did not believe in these things anyway. Seeing the direction that things were heading in, he quickly slipped away, leaving the threshing ground.

***

After he left, a group of children who had been watching television in the host family’s house ran out to the threshing ground. One of them shouted at the top of his lungs to the adults, “Dad! Dad! The TV suddenly went bzzzzzzzzzt! And the screen is full of white dots... We can’t even get Channel One anymore!”

In these times, an unstable television signal was normal and happened all the time. The adults were deep in conversation, so they waved the children off impatiently. “Just smack the TV a little and adjust the antenna. We’re busy.”

With that, the children were sent away.

Just a moment later, someone looked up at the moon in the sky and exclaimed dramatically, “Eh, what’s that? Everyone, look! There’s a dark shape underneath the moon... What is that?”

Everyone glanced up. There was indeed a shadow under the half-moon of the summer night. It seemed to be moving, though it was blurry and quickly disappeared in the darkness of the night.

“Probably a large bird that happened to fly past.”

“Definitely not a plane, though. Planes have flashing lights underneath.”

“Might be an eagle or something. It’s not like we’ve never seen one.”

1. Han Qingyu’s surname (韩) is the 28th most common surname in China. The qing (青) part of his given name means “blue” or “green,” which reflects the green rice, while the yu (禹) part refers to the mythical ruler Yu the Great. According to legends, he lived around the 21st century BC and is best known for his success in creating a flood control system for the Yellow River and other major waterways of China. ☜

2. The Chinese term used here was “dou (斗)”, which is a traditional Chinese container and unit of measurement historically used for rice and other grains. One dou typically holds about 10 liters of rice, or 2.64 US gallons. ☜

3. Fenglong (封龙) translates to “seal the dragon,” so it would be something like Dragon-Sealing Valley. ☜

4. Gaokao is a common abbreviation for the Nationwide Unified Examination for Admissions to General Universities and Colleges. As evident from the name, it’s a required exam for all high school graduates in order to move on to university. It’s an extremely high-pressure, high-stakes exam that practically determines the future of a high school graduate. ☜

5. The original term here refers to the Up to the Mountains and Down to the Countryside Movement, a reeducation policy of China between 1953-1978 that aimed to remove “pro-bourgeois” thinking. Young, educated people with a background considered privileged were sent to rural areas to learn from the workers and farmers there. In total, approximately 17 million “educated youths” (知青 zhīqīng) were dispatched to the countryside. ☜

6. Some of the adults call Qingyu “青娃子 (Qingwazi),” which translates into Kiddo Qing, but also sounds like “青蛙 (Qingwa) - Frog”, so this nickname will be translated as Tadpole to differentiate it from 青子 (Qingzi), which will be translated as Little Qing. ☜

7. In fengshui, a “dragon vein” is a major energy channel usually running through a mountain range. These are considered auspicious places, and doing construction or mining work that might disturb the qi flow is, conversely, strongly frowned upon. ☜