mystery literature
About the Book
Plot Blurb: For sixteen years, driven by the loss of someone he loved and his pursuit of the murderer, Hóu Dàlì has repeatedly stared death in the face. He has honed his mind into a computer and his eyes into microscopes, enabling him to methodically pinpoint the crucial clues hidden within crime scenes and autopsy reports. With an almost superhuman power of observation, Hóu Dàlì cuts through even the most tangled social networks to identify a killer’s behavioral patterns and upbringing, ultimately bringing them to justice. Driven by the firm belief that no homicide should ever go unsolved, Hóu Dàlì has grown from a rookie investigator into a walking textbook of criminal investigation.
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🎭 ALTENATIVE TITLE
🌎 COUNTRY OF ORIGIN
China (Mainland)
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. Generally sold as an anthology rather than individually.
Read Chapter 3 of Hou Dali’s Criminal Investigation Case Notes (侯大利刑侦笔记) in this unofficial annotated English translation. We have made every effort to faithfully translate the author Xiǎoqiáo Lǎoshù’s (小桥老树) work from the original Chinese, preserving the author’s words, nuances, and connotations while providing notes on Chinese names, idioms, cultural references, and wordplay to help English readers experience the story as it was written.
If you see a word or phrase followed by a lightbulb (💡), it means there is a note explaining the translation or a related concept. Click on the word or phrase before the lightbulb to view the note.
Key Character List:
- Hóu Dàlì (侯大利) – High school student and young master of Guólóng Group.
- Yáng Fān (杨帆 / Xiǎo Fán) – Hóu Dàlì’s high school classmate who disappears unexpectedly.
- Zhū Lín (朱林) – Chief Inspector of the Criminal Investigation Division (CID).
- Xià Xiǎoyǔ (夏晓宇) – Head of Jiāngzhōu branch of Guólóng Group.
- Hóu Guólóng (侯国龙) – Hóu Dàlì’s father and head of Guólóng Group.
- Lǐ Yǒngméi (李永梅) – Hóu Dàlì’s mother, Hóu Guólóng’s wife.
- Yáng Yǒng (杨勇) – Yáng Fān’s father.
- Qín Yù (秦玉) – Yáng Fān’s mother.
- Gù Yīng (顾英) – Deputy General Manager of the Jiāngzhōu Grand Hotel (owned by the Hóu family, and where Hóu Dàlì stays)
Chapter 3: Murder in Plain Sight
Shì’ān Factory was a “Third Front” factory located midway along the Bāyuè Mountains, about four kilometers from downtown Jiāngzhōu.
The residential facilities and factory buildings of Shì’ān Factory were spread along the foot of the mountain, scattered here and there like stars in the form of a long, snaking straight line. The factory compound was filled with camphor trees, enveloping one white brick building after another. The buildings all had floor-to-ceiling heights of more than five meters, and their doors and windows were wider and larger than those of ordinary homes. Every family residential compound was assigned a number; the compound designated No. 6 was known simply as No. 6 Compound.
No. 6 Compound was perched on a small hillside, approximately five hundred meters from the factory’s front gate.
Building Four, third floor. Yáng Yǒng carried the luggage while Qín Yù led their daughter by the hand and knocked on the door of their neighbor Lǐ Yǒngméi.
Lǐ Yǒngméi opened the door.
Yáng Yǒng said, “We’ll be away for five days this time.”
“Don’t worry about Xiǎo Fān. Just focus on getting things done — it’s not easy making the trip home.” Lǐ Yǒngméi held Yáng Fān’s hand and called out into the house, “Dàlì, Xiǎo Fān is here.”
Hóu Dàlì put down a Rubik’s Cube, stood at the bedroom door, and beckoned to Yáng Fān.
Yáng Fān did not walk her parents out; she simply said, “Come back soon,” and went straight to Hóu Dàlì’s room.
The Yáng and Hóu families had been longtime neighbors for many years and were very familiar with one another. When Yáng Yǒng and Qín Yù had urgent matters and returned to their hometown, they were completely at ease leaving their daughter at the Hóu family’s home.
In the bedroom, Hóu Dàlì lowered his voice and said, “I have a new Rubik’s Cube. We’ll have a competition later.”
Yáng Fān rolled her eyes at him and said, “You must have been practicing for a long time. That’s not fair.”
Hóu Dàlì picked up the new Rubik’s Cube, casually twisting it in a flurry of random turns, and quickly brought all the colors back into order.
Yáng Fān was dazzled by the sight, but immediately launched a counterattack, declaring proudly, “I don’t play Rubik’s Cube anymore. It’s so childish. I want to read fairy tales instead. Oh, I almost forgot—you don’t recognize many characters, so you can’t read fairy tales.”
Hóu Dàlì said, “You tell me fairy tales, and I’ll teach you how to play Rubik’s Cube.”
Yáng Fān nodded vigorously.
After seeing the couple, Yáng Yǒng and Qín Yù, off, the smiles vanished completely from Hóu Guólóng and Lǐ Yǒngméi’s faces. Back in the bedroom, after closing the door, Lǐ Yǒngméi’s face drew tight as she said without the slightest trace of a smile, “If you quit your job to strike out on your own and the business fails, our family will have nothing to live on.”
Hóu Guólóng picked up the newspaper lying on the table and pointed to the article covered in red lines.
“This article, ‘The East Wind Blows, Filling the Eyes with Spring’, was first published in the Shenzhen Special Zone Daily on March 26, 1992. By now, all the major newspapers and periodicals across the country have reprinted it in full. What this report means? Can you really not see it? Dèng Xiǎopíng, the Chief Architect, put it so well. Without upholding socialism, without reform and opening up, without developing the economy, without improving people’s lives, there is only a dead end. Can you really not smell the opportunity in this? I’ve worked in supply and sales at Shì’ān Factory for so many years. I’m familiar with the market. I know what the market needs. Rather than muddling along at the factory, waiting to eat and die, I’d rather go all out and do something big. Don’t worry. With your husband’s abilities, making ten or twenty thousand yuan a year will absolutely be no problem. When the time comes and my son marries Xiǎo Fān, I’ll give them a grand wedding.
At the mention of this, Lǐ Yǒngméi was furious. “Yáng Yǒng is one of the best doctors at the factory hospital and as an intellectual, he is rather high-minded. After you quit your job, you’ll become an unemployed drifter. When that happens, Yáng Yǒng and Qín Yù will very likely refuse to let Xiǎo Fān marry Dàlì.”
The two were talking when an old man with graying hair pushed open the door and entered, saying angrily, “Hóu Guólóng, you’ve really disappointed me! You’re one of the factory’s reserve cadres. After another two years of experience, you’d become head of the Supply and Sales Section. Why are you resigning? Could it be you have nothing in your eyes but money, with no thought for Shì’ān Factory and no sense of collective pride?”
Hóu Guólóng looked up and saw that it was the former factory director. But before he could say anything, his wife Lǐ Yǒngméi had already leapt to her feet. “Hóu Guólóng, you submitted your resignation behind my back?! Do you still have this family in your eyes? We’re living perfectly well as we are . . . Why do you insist on jumping into a fire pit!”
She had not expected her husband, having acted first and reported afterward, would actually still hypocritically pretend to discuss whether he should resign. If the former factory director had not been in the house, she definitely would have rushed at him and started fighting him.
Hearing the commotion outside, Hóu Dàlì and Yáng Fān stood curiously in the doorway, peering out.
Yáng Fān thoughtfully handed Lǐ Yǒngméi a tissue, “Auntie, don’t cry.”
“Xiǎo Fān, go inside. Auntie isn’t crying. Some sand got in my eyes.” Lǐ Yǒngméi wiped away her tears with the tissue, took Xiǎo Fān into Hóu Dàlì’s bedroom, and gently closed the door.
The former factory director thought highly of the shrewd and capable Hóu Guólóng and had high hopes for him. But the wood had already become a boat. After venting his anger he wrote down the contact information of his former business partners on a piece of paper and handed it to Hóu Guólóng. Then, with a dark expression and his hands behind his back, he left the Hóu home in a huff.
After the former factory director left, Lǐ Yǒngméi quieted down and sat in the living room, wiping away her tears. Hóu Guólóng diligently busied himself in the kitchen preparing some special dishes to ease the tension.
Once the food and dishes were set on the table, Hóu Guólóng grinned and put an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Don’t be angry anymore. If the business doesn’t work out, with my cooking skills, there’d be no problem opening a small restaurant.”
Lǐ Yǒngméi forcefully knocked away the hand reaching toward her chest. “Our son and Xiǎo Fān are in the other room. . . . Oh, you just can’t settle down. Once you quit your job, you’ll be an unemployed drifter from then on. With you in the Supply and Sales Section, my voice carries weight at the factory. After you quit, I won’t be able to hold my head up at the factory. I must have had eight lifetimes of bad luck to have ended up married to you.”
Hóu Dàlì and Yáng Fān were still quite young and could not understand the impact quitting a job to go out and start a business would have on a family. They simply rarely got to see the adults arguing, and hid behind the door, watching the commotion.
At dinner, Hóu Guólóng kept telling jokes trying to liven up the atmosphere and attentively served food to his wife with his chopsticks. Lǐ Yǒngméi’s face remained tense as sge said nothing and refused to eat.
Dinner was more plentiful than usual, and the two children were too busy eating meat to care that the adults had just been arguing.
After dinner, Hóu Guólóng eagerly bustled about washing the dishes, while Lǐ Yǒngméi remained in the living room, still with a stern look.
It was time for Xīnwén Liánbō when Lǐ Yǒngméi came into the bedroom and said, “Xiǎo Fān, Auntie and Uncle have something to take care of and will be going out for a little while. The two of you will be home alone. Will you be scared?”
Yáng Fān was actually a little scared. Hóu Dàlì puffed out his chest, “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect Xiǎo Fān.”
Compound No. 6 was within the factory grounds and was very safe, so Lǐ Yǒngméi had only asked offhandedly. She and her husband then went back to see the former factory director to seek his advice on running a factory.
When the tiger is away, the monkey becomes king. First, Hóu Dàlì brought his comic books into the living room, then he took some fruit candies from a tin and showed them off to Yáng Fān. Hóu Guólóng was the deputy head of the factory’s Supply and Sales Section and had traveled extensively for years, so there were always candies at home. “The two children ate two Shanghai Fruit Candies each, then some Lobster candies, thoroughly enjoying the treats.
After eating the candy, Hóu Dàlì was eager to show off and took Yáng Fān into the inner room to play a videotape. As soon as they turned on the television, strange music began playing. while the words “Dream of the Red Chamber” also appeared on the screen. Yáng Fān was clearly more mature than Hóu Dàlì for her age. At her young age, she could already read simple fairy-tale books. She knew that “Dream of the Red Chamber” was a famous literary classic, so she carried a little stool over to the television, sat down in front of it, and prepared to study seriously. But who would have thought that what appeared in “Dream of the Red Chamber” was naked men and women! Yáng Fān covered her eyes and shouted, “What is this?! Turn it off! Turn it off, quick!”
At first, Hóu Dàlì was somewhat bewildered by the images shown on the screen. But hearing Yáng Fān’s shout, he realized that this seemed like something children shouldn’t watch and fumbled to turn off the video player.
Yáng Fān had seen something she shouldn’t have seen on the screen and was both mortified and annoyed. She retreated to hide in the bedroom and ignored Hóu Dàlì.
At nine that evening, Hóu Guólóng and Lǐ Yǒngméi still had not returned home. Yáng Fān was so sleepy she could barely keep her eyes open; by ten, she was supposed to go to bed, per her father’s instructions. Before going to bed, however, she had to use the public toilet outside Compound No. 6.
Compound No. 6 was undergoing renovations to add bathrooms and kitchens to the exteriors of several buildings. The project had already been approved by the factory director’s executive meeting, blueprints had been drawn up, and construction was scheduled to begin that year. Until the work was finished, however, residents still had to use the public restrooms outside the compound. The path to the restroom led through a dark grove of trees—a place where someone had been hanged years earlier. Inside, the women’s restroom was dimly lit and featured over a dozen large squat stalls; at night, the cold wind howling through the space created an eerie, terrifying sound. Yáng Fān was usually accompanied by both her parents whenever she went to the restroom at night. Her father would stand outside while her mother went in, allowing the three of them to converse through the wall. This was a very important part of their family life.
Her parents had not returned, and Yáng Fān did not dare enter the women’s restroom alone. . . not even with Hóu Dàlì standing right outside.
Yáng Fān’s stomach was hurting more and more. If she didn’t take care of the problem, the consequences could be extremely embarrassing. With wisdom born from urgency, Hóu Dàlì came up with an idea: he spread newspapers on the bedroom floor for her to relieve herself. Yáng Fān initially refused, but when she could no longer hold it, she eventually accepted the suggestion, her face flushed with embarrassment.
After relieving herself, Yáng Fān put the waste into a plastic bag. She adamantly refused Hóu Dàlì’s offer to accompany her and went alone to toss the bag into the trash pit inside the compound.
“You can’t tell anyone about what happened today. If you do, I’m cutting all ties with you!” Yáng Fān didn’t dare look Hóu Dàlì in the eye, but her voice was fierce.
Hóu Dàlì said with a grin, “I’m not afraid to go to the bathroom so we don’t have a chamber pot at home. You’re family ought to get one.”
“We don’t use a chamber pot at our house. That thing is too filthy, and it would make the room all stinky.”
The next morning, Hóu Dàlì and Yáng Fān had not gotten up yet. Hóu Guólóng and Lǐ Yǒngméi were talking quietly in the kitchen.
Lǐ Yǒngméi thumped her husband with her fist, “I told you to take the videotape out, but you couldn’t be bothered. Those two little rascals definitely watched it. Where am I supposed to put my face? I can’t even look Xiǎo Fán in the eye without feeling embarrassed.”
Hóu Guólóng said with a laugh, “Why feel guilty? We’re just adding a little spice to our married life. We have nothing to be ashamed of. Your son hasn’t even hit puberty yet; he doesn’t understand a damn thing.”
Lǐ Yǒngméi cautioned him, “Xiǎofān is a young girl and thin-skinned. Let’s just pretend this never happened.”
At eight o’clock, the four of them had breakfast together. Yáng Fān recalled the embarrassing images that had appeared on television and kept her head down as she ate, afraid of meeting anyone else’s gaze.
Just then, the sound of knocking at the door rang out.
The cleaner, Old Dù, had dark circles under his eyes. Holding a newspaper delicately between two fingers, he came to the doorway and said, “Section Chief Hóu, this is too much!”
Old Dù was a permanent employee whose job was cleaning up trash. Within the factory, he was like a stone in the toilet—stinking and hard. He feared no one and didn’t mind offending others, so even though he was just a cleaner, no one dared to mess with him.
Hóu Guólóng said, “Old Dù, what’s the matter?”
Old Dù raised the newspaper and indignantly complained, “Two stray dogs got into the garbage pit today and dug a bag out. Why did they dig up the bag? Because there was shit inside. A dog can’t change its habit of eating shit. As soon as they smelled it, they had to take a bite, dragging shit all over the compound.”
Yáng Fān’s face was so red it could have dripped blood. She wished desperately that she could find a crack in the floor and crawl into it.
Old Dù continued his grievance: “Section Chief Hóu’s name appeared on the newspaper, so I came up here to get some justice. Revolutionary work is simply a matter of different divisions of labor; there is no distinction between high and low, noble or lowly. Section Chief Hóu needs to respect my labor.”
When Hóu Guólóng saw his name on the newspaper, he realized immediately that this must have been the handiwork of those two little rascals. He quickly apologized and offered to help Old Dù clean up the compound.
“No need for Section Chief Hóu to clean it up. Just be more careful in the future.” Having vented his anger, Old Dù carried the newspaper, now covered in shit, back to the compound.
Hóu Guólóng led his son aside into another room alone and demanded to know exactly what had happened. Hóu Dàlì held his head high and took full responsibility for the incident; as a result, he was given five swats with a feather duster, leaving five red, swollen welts across his calves and thighs. After disciplining their son, Hóu Guólóng and Lǐ Yǒngméi went to work overtime at their newly opened family workshop, leaving Hóu Dàlì and Yáng Fān at home.
As they walked along the road, Lǐ Yǒngméi said, “I don’t think our son was the one who threw it. He’s brave; he’s never been afraid of the dark.”
Hóu Guólóng said, “Yáng Fān is a girl, after all, and she’s maturing at a young age. We have to let her save face. By punishing our son, we protected Yáng Fān’s dignity.”
At home, Yáng Fān looked at the red, swollen welts on Hóu Dàlì’s legs and tearfully persisted, “Did you give me away?” Hóu Dàlì said proudly, “I’m no traitor; otherwise, my dad wouldn’t have beaten me.” Yáng Fān threatened, “You aren’t allowed to tell anyone about this. If you do, I’ll never speak to you again!”
The two of them played at home for a while, then left a note and headed into the city with the older children from the compound to watch the sports meet and cheer on the Shì’ān Factory team.
Every year, Jiāngzhōu City held a summer citywide sports meet, with participating teams representing the various municipal sectors and major work units throughout the city. Shì’ān Factory was a large factory and fielded its own team, which performed well every year. The factory had a former serviceman who was an expert grenade thrower and had won the grenade-throwing championship several times. That morning, there was a grenade-throwing competition, and the entire Shì’ān Factory cheering squad gathered beside the field, ready to cheer their champion on.
Xiǎo Liú, the champion team member from Shì’ān Factory, appeared on the field; he paced around it like a tiger patrolling its territory, shaking out his arms and stretching his back, full of confidence. When his turn came to throw, the Shì’ān Factory cheering squad erupted in wave after wave of cheers.
Yáng Fān asked, “Can Uncle Xiǎo Liú win?”
Hóu Dàlì had always idolized Uncle Xiǎo Liú so he said, “Uncle Xiǎo Liú is definitely going to win. The person who can beat him hasn’t even been born yet!”
The grenade traced a beautiful arc through the air. After it landed, a staff member ran over and planted a red flag at the landing spot. Xiǎo Liú’s red flag stood at least five or six meters farther out than the others. The Shì’ān Factory cheering squad was convinced they had this gold medal in the bag, and erupted in thunderous cheers.
The final competitor stepped onto the field. He had a well-developed chest and wore a sports tank top with the two characters “银行” (“Bank”) printed on it. Without bothering with any warm-up exercises, he gave the grenade a casual toss; it shot through the air like an artillery shell, landing far beyond the red flag marking Xiǎo Liú’s throw.
After throwing the grenade, the competitor made no further attempts; he simply turned and walked away.
The other competitors each made two more rounds of throws, but still fell far short of the red flag marking the Bank team’s throw.
A medal that had seemed safely theirs had been snatched away, and the Shì’ān Factory cheering squad was disappointed. Still, as regretful as they were, everyone acknowledged that the Bank team’s competitor was genuinely formidable, his ability far surpassing that of Shì’ān Factory’s Xiǎo Liú. An enthusiastic voice came over the loudspeaker: “Bank system competitor Shí Qiūyáng has broken the grenade-throwing record, improving the previous record by four meters.”
The Shì’ān Factory cheering squad reached a consensus: a monster had emerged from the bank team. Shì’ān Factory had lost its advantage in the grenade-throwing event and wouldn’t be able to turn things around for years.
Hóu Dàlì and Yáng Fān were only there to watch the excitement, so who won or lost didn’t matter much to them. They spent the whole day playing around at the sports field with the cheering squad and were absolutely exhausted.
It was already six o’clock when they got home. There was food on the table and a note that read: “Mom and Dad have something to do and will be home late. Eat dinner yourselves, and go to bed early.” Having learned her lesson, Yáng Fān hurried to the public restroom outside the compound after dinner. But then another problem arose.When it was time for bed, Hóu Dàlì’s parents still had not returned home, and Yáng Fān didn’t dare sleep by herself. At first, Hóu Dàlì sat on the edge of the bed and talked with Yáng Fān to keep her company, but after a while, sleepiness overtook them both, their eyelids as heavy as mountains. By the time Hóu Guólóng and Lǐ Yǒngméi returned home, the two children had fallen asleep in bed.
Lǐ Yǒngméi looked at the way the two little ones were sleeping and remarked, “They’ve been childhood sweethearts, close since they were little. I wonder if they’ll eventually end up together?” Hou Guolong kept yawning as he replied, “You’re eating salty radishes and worrying about things that don’t concern you; what matters most is what kind of business I’ll go into next.” Li Yongmei retorted sarcastically, ““Who was it that secretly quit his job without telling me? And now you’re starting to worry about the future? If you’d known it would be like this now, why did you do it in the first place?”
Ever since he quit his job, the couple had continued bickering over the matter. Hóu Guólóng had little ground to stand on and couldn’t argue back, so he picked up his sleeping son and carried him to another room to sleep.
Choices determine one’s fate. This is an absolute truth.
Hóu Guólóng chose to leave Shì’ān Factory. At first, he hired “Sunday engineers” from the factory, which helped him get through the most difficult period. Once he had weathered those early difficulties, he paid a great deal of money to poach several technical specialists in key positions from Shì’ān Factory, and the business got onto the right track.
The technical personnel at Guólóng Factory dismantled motorcycles from different brands and repeatedly reassembled them. After countless rounds of disassembly and assembly, the Guólóng motorcycle burst onto the scene. A few years later, Guólóng motorcycles had become a nationally renowned motorcycle brand. They held a considerable share of the Southeast Asian market.
Yáng Yǒng insisted on staying at the Shì’ān Factory Hospital, where he became deputy director. He made a living from his skills, enjoyed a secure and dependable livelihood, and lived a quiet life.
In the early days of Hóu Guólóng’s business, he faced an acute shortage of talent and repeatedly invited Yáng Yǒng to join his company. In Yáng Yǒng’s eyes, however, Guólóng Factory was nothing more than a small enterprise that could collapse at any moment. He found the invitation laughable. He was, after all, a deputy director of the hospital—how could he possibly go work at some small private factory?
After Guólóng Factory had become established, Hóu Guólóng gradually began addressing the problem of the overly high proportion of former Shì’ān Factory veterans in his company, and he never extended another invitation to Yáng Yǒng to join him. The Hóu and Yáng families gradually walked farther and farther apart.
In the 1990s, Jiāngzhōu’s business landscape resembled the Warring States period. Competitive tactics were crude and heavy-handed, and they often resorted to violence, like underworld gangs fighting over turf. After the daughter of industry leader Dīng Chénguāng suffered a tragedy, Hóu Guólóng, who was just beginning to make a name for himself, was frightened by Jiangzhōu’s criminal underworld. He quietly moved the main body of his enterprise to the provincial capital, Yángzhōu, and his son, Hóu Dàlì, also transferred to Yángzhōu’s most expensive private school.
He did not want people back in Jiāngzhōu to know about his family, so he kept information about his son tightly under wraps and would not allow his son to meet anyone from Jiāngzhōu.
While each individual’s development is profoundly influenced by both society and family, it also follows its own trajectory. Hóu Guólóng hoped his son would study hard, get into a prestigious university, and eventually take over the family business. But Hóu Dàlì was his own person. Like his father, he had a strong personality and a mind of his own. Once he entered his rebellious teenage years, he fell in with a group of wealthy second-generation heirs in the provincial capital, and his life became one high point after another.
This period of time was the golden era for the development of Guólóng Group, and the couple devoted all their energy to it, neglecting their son’s upbringing and education. They assumed that spending a great deal of money to send him to an elite school would naturally ensure that he grew up well.
It was a case in Yángzhōu in which a group of wealthy second-generation heirs got into a fight over a romantic rivalry that resulted in someone’s death, that made Hóu Guólóng realize that his son had actually become a prominent figure in the provincial capital’s circle of the silk-waisted crowd. On the day of the incident, his son had been held up by something else and therefore did not take part in the group fight, allowing him to escape a prison sentence by sheer luck.
After the incident, several friends suggested that Hóu Guólóng send his son abroad, so that after returning from his studies, he could take over the family business. Hóu Guólóng did not want his son to become a “banana man” (yellow-skinned on the outside but white at heart) and decided instead to send his son back to their hometown to attend high school, far from the silk-waisted crowd of the provincial capital.
In August 2001, a few days before the start of his first year of high school, Hóu Dàlì returned to Jiāngzhōu. He had barely set down his luggage in his room at the Jiāngzhōu Grand Hotel when his mother’s phone call came chasing after him.
“Dàlì, I’ll have Gù Yīng prepare some gifts to take over to Uncle Yáng’s house.”
“Mom, I only just arrived in Jiāngzhōu; I’ll go another day.”
“You often got sick when you were little, and you always took the traditional Chinese medicine Uncle Yáng prescribed. Now that you’re back in Jiāngzhōu, you must go pay him a visit. School hasn’t started yet, so you still have time; once school begins, you’ll be even more pressed for time.”
“Okay, okay, okay, I’ll go. I haven’t seen Yáng Fān for several years; I don’t even know what she looks like now.”
The Jiāngzhōu Grand Hotel was owned by the Hóu family, and Gù Yīng was the hotel’s deputy general manager. At Lǐ Yǒngméi’s request, she had the local specialties prepared and ready.
Hóu Dàlì slept for a while at the hotel, then took the gifts and proceeded to Compound No. 6 at Shì’ān Factory.
As he knocked on the door, Hóu Dàlì imagined in his mind what Yáng Fān looked like now that she had grown into a teenage girl. Yáng Fān had been the little princess of Compound No. 6 since childhood; girls change eighteen times as they grow up, and now that she had entered high school, she should probably have turned out pretty well. Images of various beauties from the provincial capital flashed through his mind, and he guessed that Yáng Fān was probably about on par with them.
The door opened, and it was indeed Yáng Fān who answered it. Although he had mentally braced himself, Hóu Dàlì was still startled by the sight of her. He stared at her closely, then smacked his forehead and exclaimed, “Damn! you actually grew up looking like this! You could practically bring ruin to the country and disaster upon its people.”
Yáng Fān wore a long white dress with a red belt around her waist, her hair tied back in a ponytail. Even the most ordinary student attire made Yáng Fān seem like a celestial maiden descended to earth, so beautiful that one cannot look directly at her. Hóu Dàlì had seen plenty of impressive sights in Yángzhōu, yet seeing his childhood friend Yáng Fān now still felt like being hit by a hand grenade, leaving his head reeling from the blast.
Yáng Fān had not expected Hóu Dàlì to be the one knocking on the door. In the space of a few years, Hóu Dàlì had grown from a little brat into a spirited young man over 1.8 meters tall. She tilted her head slightly, a mischievous expression appearing on her face, and said, “How come you’re back?”
Hóu Dàlì could hardly tear his eyes away and said, “I’m in Class 1 at Jiāngzhōu No. 1 High School.”
Class 1 at Jiāngzhōu No. 1 High School is the top class in Jiāngzhōu, intended for students preparing to attend Tsinghua or Peking University. It was commonly known as the “Qīng-Běi class.” There had long been rumors around Compound No. 6 that Hóu Dàlì had turned into a street punk. Now this childhood friend of hers, the supposed street punk, was going to attend this class. Yáng Fān, being straightforward and outspoken, said, “Class 1 is the Qīng-Běi class. What are you going there for? Your grades are definitely going to be dragged down to last place. Wouldn’t that be pretty embarrassing?”
She smiled slightly and added, “I’m in Class 1 at Jiāngzhōu No. 1 High School too.”
Yáng Fān’s smile was the most beautiful bird of the summer, fluttering through Hóu Dàlì’s mind and leaving him a little dizzy.
Hóu Dàlì had gone to Shì’ān Factory purely to carry out the task his mother had given him, with the added benefit of seeing an old friend. They had not seen each other for years, and sometimes he did miss Yáng Fān quite a bit. But the instant they met, he felt that sending him to Class 1 at Jiāngzhōu No. 1 High School was the most correct decision his parents had ever made.
The brief awkwardness passed, and Hóu Dàlì and Yáng Fān sat in the living room, chatting freely and completely at ease, sharing what they had each been through over the past few years. There was a Rubik’s Cube on the coffee table, some of the color along the edges of its squares having worn away. Without giving it a thought, Hóu Dàlì’s fingers flew over it. Amid a burst of rattling clicks, all six colors of the Rubik’s Cube were back in their proper places.
Yáng Fān knew that Hóu Dàlì had exceptional talent for solving Rubik’s Cubes, but she still stared in amazement and sighed, “To beat you, I bought a Rubik’s Cube guide and memorized the steps in the book just to barely manage two sides. But you never even looked at a guide, and you’re still this good at it, doing it in less time than I do. People’s brains really do work differently. I have to admit that. Your IQ isn’t low. It would be so good if you used it for studying.”
It was as though Hóu Dàlì had a decoder in his mind, making every step of solving the Rubik’s Cube emerge one by one. For him, solving a Rubik’s Cube was extremely simple, with not the slightest difficulty.
Old-fashioned picture frames hung on the walls of the Yáng family home. Inside them were stage photographs of Yáng Fān from her middle-school years.
“I remember you were the dance queen of kindergarten. Do you still dance? Do you have any videos?” At the mention of the video recordings, Hóu Dàlì couldn’t help remembering the embarrassing incident the two of them had gotten into as children when they secretly watched the adults’ videotape, and he began to laugh.
Yáng Fān also remembered the embarrassing incident from back then and said, “What are you thinking in that head of yours? Don’t you dare laugh.”
“I wasn’t thinking anything improper.”
“You’re definitely thinking something improper.”
At Hóu Dàlì’s insistent urging, Yáng Fān, half resisting and half yielding, inserted her cherished disc into the DVD player.
In the program, Yáng Fān performs a solo dance called Peacock Dance. In the long shot, her white dress is whiter than snow, her movements graceful, like a peacock untouched by the smoke and fire of the human world. In the close-up, her arms are soft as though boneless, yet passion bursts forth from within their graceful softness.
This dance had been shown on television countless times. Hóu Dàlì had seen it before, but it had never made much of an impression on him. When Yáng Fān performed the dance, he was suddenly dazzled beyond words. That dazzling beauty became a current of electricity, striking the heart of the sixteen-year-old young man.
Yáng Yǒng and Qín Yù came home from work and were both quite happy to see Hóu Dàlì, whom they had not seen for years. They made their specialty dishes to treat the mischievous boy who had once been their longtime neighbor. During the meal, Yáng Yǒng asked about Hóu Dàlì’s health. Before the age of four, Hóu Dàlì was frequently ill, coming down with a fever once every month without fail. Yáng Yǒng was a real expert at the hospital, and he was also well versed in Traditional Chinese Medicine. He made quite a few pills for Hóu Dàlì. Whether it was the pills taking effect or his growing older and developing greater resistance, after he turned four, Hóu Dàlì rarely had a fever and became a little mischievous monkey.
At eight that evening, Yáng Yǒng and Qín Yù stood by the window, watching their daughter escort Hóu Dàlì out of the courtyard. The two were both tall and slender, walking side by side, talking and laughing, while Yáng Fān occasionally raised her hand as though pretending to hit him.
Yáng Yǒng looked deeply worried. “Things are not what they used to be. Hóu Dàlì has become a silk-waisted young man. I don’t want him getting too close to Xiǎo Fān. His family is too wealthy. Our family makes its living through technical skills. Safety and stability are what happiness is really about.”
Qín Yù reassured him, “Hóu Dàlì and Xiǎo Fān haven’t seen each other for years. His coming back this time is pretty much like paying a visit to relatives. Xiǎo Fān has a mind of her own. She wouldn’t think much of Hóu Dàlì.”
Trusting their daughter, the couple did not become overly anxious.
After school started, Yáng Fān immediately became the new school beauty of Jiāngzhōu No. 1 High School. She was also widely recognized as the most beautiful school beauty among all the school’s previous school beauties. Hóu Dàlì became the wealthiest second-generation heir at Jiāngzhōu No. 1 High School. He was likewise recognized as the wealthiest second-generation heir among all the school’s previous second-generation heirs.
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Notes
为爱追凶 (lit. “for love pursues the murderer”): The phrase suggests that Hóu Dàlì is driven by the death of someone he loved, and that avenging or solving their murder is the motivation behind his actions. ↩
HOH dah-lee ↩
yahng fahn / shee-ow fahn ↩
joo leen ↩
shyah shee-ow yoo ↩
HOH gwoh-long ↩
lee yong-may ↩
yahng yong ↩
cheen yoo ↩
Note: Gù Yīng (顾英) is pronounced approximately “goo ying.” ↩
Note: Literally “A murder committed in full view of everyone.” 众目睽睽 is a very common Chinese idiom that emphasizes that something happened openly, in a brazen and public manner. It does not necessarily mean they actually saw the murder—only that it happened in a public setting where many eyes were present. ↩
Note: Third Front factory (三线厂) was a factory established during China’s Third Front Construction campaign (1964–1980). This was a national industrial development program that relocated key industries to China’s mountainous interior for strategic defense. Many such factories were built in relatively isolated areas to protect them from potential attack while supporting regional industrialization. ↩
Note: About 2.5 miles ↩
Note: 一字长蛇阵 literally means “the long snake formation in a single line.” It is a traditional Chinese military term describing troops deployed in a long, narrow formation resembling a snake stretched out in a straight line. ↩
Note: About 16.5 feet ↩
Note: About a third of a mile ↩
Note: Literally “They knew each other’s roots and background.” ↩
Note: In Chinese, it is literally “gave him a white eye”. *I think this is a cute way of putting it ↩
Note: She’s referring to the symbols used in written Chinese. Essentially she’s mocking him for not knowing his letters. Talk about childish. 😅 ↩
Note: 喝西北风 is an idiom that literally means “to drink the northwest wind.” It refers to the experience of having nothing to eat or being without the means of supporting oneself. ↩
Note: His name does not appear in the original text, Hóu Guólóng just refers to him as the Chief Architect or Chief Designer because Chinese readers would be familiar with that specific reference. For Western audiences, I added his name to make the reference slightly clearer.
Dèng Xiǎopíng (邓小平) was one of the most influential Chinese political leaders of the late 20th century. He served as China’s leader from the late 1970s through the early 1990s and was the principal architect of China’s reform and opening-up policies. Beginning in 1978, these policies moved China away from strict Mao-era economic practices and toward a more market-oriented economy while maintaining the country’s socialist political system.
The passage is set in 1992, an especially significant year: Dèng’s famous Southern Tour (南方谈话) that year strongly reaffirmed reform and opening up and encouraged continued economic development. ↩
Note: Approximately $4,320 – $8,640 USD based on today’s valuation and the 1992 exchange rate.
Having lived in China from 2014-2021, I can attest that even today, 10-20K CNY is a lot of money. The average salary there is about 4-5K yuan a month even now. He plans to strike it rich – Jiayou! 🤛🏻 ↩
Note: Dad and mom are already matchmaking 😹 ↩
Note: 后备干部 refers to employees identified by a Chinese government agency, state-owned enterprise, or other organization as potential future leaders. They are given additional experience and responsibilities to prepare them for promotion into management or official positions.
Here, Hóu Guólóng is being deliberately groomed by the company for a higher position at Shì’ān Factory ↩
- ↩
Note: Idiom meaning things have already reached the point of no return ↩
Note: 硬菜 literally means “hard dish,” but refers to a substantial, special, or impressive dish, often involving meat or other more expensive ingredients. It is the kind of food prepared for a special occasion or when someone wants to make a meal feel more generous. ↩
Note: 屁颠颠 is a humorous, colloquial expression describing someone eagerly and almost comically rushing around to please someone. Literally, it evokes someone moving with their bottom bouncing as they hurry along ↩
Note: 《新闻联播》 (Xīnwén Liánbō) is China’s nationally broadcast evening news program on CCTV. ↩
Note: Liánhuánhuà (连环画) were small illustrated comic-style books popular in China during this period. You can find more information on the Hanyu Chinese website ↩
Note: “Shanghai Fruit Candy” (上海水果糖) refers to a specific type of vintage hard candies that became popular in the 1950s – 1980s. Sweets were strictly rationed, requiring special coupons to purchase. Shanghai Fruit Candy was a kind of premium, high-quality, factory-produced snacks. The city’s elite candy companies were known for their hard, translucent candies made from a strong sweet-and-sour fruit syrup produced through traditional boiling techniques and then molded into shapes (e.g., oranges). ↩
Note: 龙虾糖 (Lóngxiā táng) was a particular brand of candy that translates literally as “Lobster candy”. ↩
Note: Dream of the Red Chamber (红楼梦), written by Cáo Xuěqín (曹雪芹) in the 18th century, is one of China’s Four Great Classical Novels and one of the country’s most important literary works. Despite its fame and cultural prestige, it is not a children’s story (as soon as I saw the title, I knew they were in for some trauma 🤣). The novel deals with adult themes including romance, sexuality, and the decline of an aristocratic family. In it’s original version, it is fairly risqué.
However, simplified children’s adaptations are common, making the title familiar to young readers like Yáng Fān.
So, this is a bit like a child reading a kiddie version of The Decameron only to suddenly see an adult-oriented NC-17 version on film. ↩
Note: When I lived in China, our apartment complex was largely like this still. I was blessed to have hot water and a bathroom in my apartment, but most of the residents still had to leave the compound and go to the public sauna / bathroom across the street nearby. Not so bad if you lived at that gate but our complex was huge and people at the other gate had to hotfoot it if in a hurry. Not so fun in the middle of the night 👻 ↩
Note: 一刀两断 is an idiom meaning to sever a relationship completely and decisively. Literally, “cut in two with one stroke of a knife.” ↩
Note: 脸嫩 literally means having a “tender/thin-skinned face.” It refers to someone who is easily embarrassed or self-conscious, particularly about socially awkward or shameful matters. ↩
Note: 厕所里的石头 (“a stone in the toilet”) is a colloquial Chinese expression describing someone who is unpleasant, stubborn, and utterly unafraid of confrontation. The image is intensified by 又臭又硬 (“both stinking and hard”). ↩
Note: 狗改不了吃屎 literally means “a dog can’t change its habit of eating shit.” It is a common Chinese saying used to describe someone who cannot change an ingrained habit or inherent behavior.
In this case, the saying applies both figuratively and literally 😹 ↩
Note: About 5.5 – 6.5 yards. ↩
Note: 银行 is not a name, so I’m assuming he represents some banking organization? ↩
Note: A little more than four yards ↩
Note: 咸吃萝卜淡操心 (literally, “eating salty radishes while worrying about bland matters”) is a colloquial Chinese expression meaning to worry unnecessarily about matters that are not one’s concern. ↩
Note: 星期天工程师 (“Sunday engineers”) was a colloquial term for factory or institutional employees who used their Sundays or days off to take on outside work, often providing technical expertise to private businesses. ↩
Note: The Warring States period (475–221 BCE) was an era of intense rivalry among multiple Chinese states, marked by shifting alliances, political intrigue, and frequent warfare. ↩
Note: 纨绔 (wánkù) literally refers to fine silk trousers, historically associated with the sons of wealthy or powerful families who could afford luxurious clothing and did not need to work for a living. Over time, the term came to describe privileged young men who lived in comfort and extravagance and were often regarded as spoiled, idle, or frivolous. ↩
Note:香蕉人 (xiāngjiāo rén, literally “banana person”) is a Chinese expression for someone who is Chinese or ethnically Asian on the outside but perceived as Westernized in values, culture, or outlook on the inside. “Yellow on the outside, white on the inside.” The term can carry a critical or derogatory connotation, particularly when used to suggest that someone has become alienated from Chinese culture. ↩
Note:女大十八变 literally means “a girl changes eighteen times as she grows up.” It is a traditional Chinese saying referring to the dramatic changes in a girl’s appearance as she matures, particularly the transformation from childhood into adolescence and young adulthood. ↩
Note: 简直祸国殃民 (jiǎnzhí huòguó yāngmín) is a highly exaggerated, literary expression traditionally associated with someone so beautiful they could ruin a nation (the best western alternative is probably someone like Helen of Troy and her face that could sink a thousand ships) ↩
Note: Fun note. . . 留着马尾巴 more literally translates as“kept a horse’s tail”. So we share the imagery 🐎 ↩
Note: About 5’9″ ↩
Note: In many Chinese middle and high schools, higher-achieving students are often grouped together in elite or advanced classes. Thus, 一班 (Class 1) is this school’s top academic class, specifically intended for students preparing for admission to prestigious universities. ↩
Note:清北 (Qīng-Běi) is a shortened combination of 清华 (Qīnghuá), Tsinghua University, and 北大 (Běidà), Peking University. These are China’s two most prestigious universities, roughly comparable in status to Harvard, Yale, or MIT in the United States.
A 清北班 is therefore an elite class whose students are specifically preparing for admission to these highly prestigious universities. ↩
Note: She probably knows that Hóu Dàlì is more than he seemed. His acceptance into the top class could be due to his father’s wealth / reputation, but it is more likely that he actually earned his position there by transferring in decent grades.
She’s just ragging on him. 😅 TBH, even if his grades were bottom of the class, it’s still bottom of the best students. ↩
Note: Him = 😍 ↩
Note: 纨绔 (wánkù) literally refers to fine silk trousers, historically associated with the sons of wealthy or powerful families who could afford luxurious clothing and did not need to work for a living. Over time, the term came to describe privileged young men who lived in comfort and extravagance and were often regarded as spoiled, idle, or frivolous. ↩