Chapter 963: Chapter 963: Dingdang and Jiajia’s Chess Classroom
This is an alley, an old alley that could still be found often ten years ago, but now can’t be found anywhere in City K. The mottled bungalows and the uneven stone road show that this alley has gone through many decades, the taste of time and the survival of generations slowly wafts out from every corner of the alley. It’s enough to inexplicably move every city dweller accustomed to high-rise buildings and a fast-paced life, leaving them standing dumbfounded at the entrance of the alley, taking a deep breath, and letting out a sigh.
What is there to sigh about? Perhaps it’s the childhood time that has passed, the kind of childhood where, seemingly out of nowhere, you’d be hit on the head with a chalk piece, followed by the class teacher’s angry shout, “XX, go stand at the back of the classroom!”
On the pockmarked cement wall, a scrawling line of chalk letters, which I’ve read for over a decade and plan to read for a lifetime, reads, “Ah Jun is a big fool! — Xu Qianqian.” Some of the characters are even replaced with pinyin.
I vaguely remember snatching half of a bun from a childhood friend’s lunch one day, just out of curiosity if the food girls had eaten tasted different. She was mad at me for the whole day. This long-forgotten event slowly re-emerged at this moment: it was just one of the countless silly things between me and that little girl, who was suspected of having hyperactivity since young.
From deep within the alley came the calls that echoed every evening many years ago and still occasionally ring in my ears, “Ah Jun! Come home for dinner!”
I looked blankly towards the depths of the alley, my memories jumping between two scenes—one being the temple of the Life Goddess in the Star Domain Divine Realm, the other being the vividly clear, mottled old alley in this memory. I didn’t know why I suddenly jumped from the Star Domain Divine Realm to this place from over ten years ago, but I can only be sure that everything before my eyes is extraordinarily real. I pinched my face hard. It didn’t hurt much, but perhaps this was a detailed dream, and I had apparently become unusually consumed by it, probably unable to find a way to awaken anytime soon.
However, I didn’t feel nervous or uneasy. Perhaps…yes, a few decades ago, I might have already started being rather thoughtless.
“Ah Jun, Ah Jun! You’re daydreaming again! Sister Chen Qian is calling you back for dinner!”
A sudden crisp and melodious call came from behind, waking me from my short daze. I turned around in surprise and saw a thin little girl dressed in a rustic autumn and winter school uniform, with loosely tied twin braids, her hair already somewhat disheveled. The little girl’s hair was tinged with a bit of yellow and looked messy due to playful antics. Her cheeks were reddened by the cold weather, with two shimmering droplets under her nose—a little girl of about eight or nine, looking unremarkable from head to toe except for a certain spirited vibe. The only bright spot were her eyes, which had become lively and sparkling, hinting at how beautifully dynamic those eyes would become years later. Mesmerized by the little-loli version of Qianqian before me, I unexpectedly realized how foresighted my early investment was: how beautiful she would become after a few decades!
“If you keep daydreaming, the teacher will make you stand at the back of the classroom again!”
Looking every bit like a tomboy, the little girl pulled my arm forward, then stopped just after taking a step, as if something suddenly occurred to her. Immediately, she frantically rummaged through her dirty little school bag.
She pulled out half the bun skin and stuffed it into my hand: “Here you go! Didn’t you want to eat it!”
While I was still in a daze, she rummaged through her bag again and pulled out a small plastic bag, which contained a clump of chive scrambled eggs: “I was afraid the filling would spill, so I scooped it out and put it in the plastic bag. Just stuff it back in the bun and eat it. Aren’t I clever—why are you daydreaming again! Hurry and eat, then go home for dinner!”
I: “…” I vaguely remembered such a scene from that year on that day, with my grand entrance as Beast Qianqian splendidly delivering half a bun. What did I do then?
Slowly biting on the bun skin, nibble by nibble of chive scrambled eggs, my eyes vacant as I followed the little girl ahead, crossing the familiar old alley, inhaling the damp and cold aroma of old houses. Qianqian skipped along, her little braids bouncing before me. I looked down at my own physique, clad in the same rustic school uniform as Qianqian, with a black smudge on the chest, the pants’ hem unraveled, and a crudely mended tear on the sleeve—a testament to Sister’s tragic sewing skills before turning fifteen.
In a daze, I found myself being led by Qianqian to the home in my memory that was slowly turning yellow with age. The familiar red brick wall, the cement baseboard, and at the entrance, the motorcycle ramp my foster father built by hand with cement. The old iron door with peeling paint covered with layers of faded “Fu” characters from past years. The old Spring Festival couplets on either side had faded to a pale yellow and crumbled to glue and mud bits at a touch. In their day, my foster parents were “big shots” in this alleyway, known for doing business, owning a company, and in that era when making money from business was quite easy, they amassed several fortunes but never left this alleyway where they had lived for two or three decades. Standing in front of this old iron door, which I hadn’t seen for more than ten years, I suddenly felt at a loss. It took me a long while to raise my hand and rap on the door. The little girl beside me immediately piped up, “Ah Jun, have you become foolish from eating too much? Knock on your own house’s door—Chen Qian! Open the door! I’m back! Ah Jun ate too many buns and got silly!”
The iron door creaked open, and a thirteen or fourteen-year-old girl with a still childish face appeared in the doorway, wearing a handmade apron. She deftly flicked her fingers at my head, then invited Qianqian inside. “You’re eating here today? Uncle and Aunt told me, go wash your hands first, we’re having stew tonight—Ah Jun, why are you standing there like an idiot? Hurry inside, wash your hands, and eat, still playing around on the road?”
In a daze, I was dragged to the dinner table by this elder sister who looked like a grown-up loli and the younger loli-like Qianqian. The living room still had the photos of my foster parents hanging on the wall—now this photo is placed in the Shadow Fortress, guarded day and night by Royal Guards, without whom the Empire’s current Leader might not exist. As usual, Sister set two sets of dishes at the dining table’s side first before serving food for the two hungry youngsters. She then brought up plans to move in a couple of years. Mom and Dad bought a house far from here, and loli-like Qianqian immediately had red eyes. Later, during dinner, she and I agreed to meet even after moving and also planned to eat candied hawthorns together on the night of a full moon ten years later at the Forbidden City. We hooked pinkies, vowed, and used the stew as a token—but Sister eventually made us eat the token.
I seemed to have completely reverted to my state from ten years ago, even though I always tried to tell Qianqian that ten years later, we wouldn’t reunite on the Forbidden City, but instead eating two-yuan plates of vegetarian pancake on the rooftop of the laboratory building every day…
After dinner, I helped wash dishes, clean the table, and once these chores were done, Sister still had her homework to do, while Qianqian was easily coaxed into playing with a random toy in the inner room. I wandered to the doorway, daydreaming while watching the sunset at the alley’s end. Everything was quiet, with no sounds of traffic like now, in this alley from over ten years ago. I picked at my smaller-than-usual fingernails before walking down the alley, pondering if this were a refined dream, why hadn’t I woken up?
Passing by a house closest to the street, I suddenly had an impulse, turned back, and knocked on the courtyard door I just passed by: “Fatty! Fatty! I’ve come to play with you!”
Indeed, three or four minutes passed, and still no response!
I started to contemplate something, knocking at each house along the alley, but no one answered. The alley was empty!
“Come on, did I just jump from the Divine Realm to Silent Hill…” I muttered to myself but didn’t feel too spooked. After all, such ghostly encounters posed no real threat to someone like me, especially since I’d long been accustomed to seeing a ghost zipping through the walls at home.
After walking a loop around the alley and coming out again, I began to analyze what was going on. After ten minutes of pondering, I almost clawed half of the wood off the wooden utility pole at the alley’s entrance. Yet, just when I couldn’t make sense of it, a bright, slightly spoiled-sounding girl’s voice suddenly came from behind: “Hey! How do I get to South Street?”
Turning my head, I found a young girl standing behind me, who seemed about the same age as the loli-like Qianqian. With long hair, wearing a beautifully fashioned white dress, and a once-trendy netted hairband. Her complex dress, like that of a doll, clashed with the mottled old alley. In my memory, no girl dressed like that lived in this alley—around here, all the rowdy kids had been trained by Qianqian and me to roll around wearing any clothes, but looking like a princess, she probably wouldn’t last more than thirty minutes in this neighborhood.
“Hey, stop spacing out! How do I get to South Street?” The unknown girl stomped her foot, then suddenly remembered something, sticking out her tongue and giving me a slight smile, “Ah, I forgot to say please—could you please tell me how to get to South Street? The old auntie said one must know the etiquette.”
“Uh, South Street is far from here, but it’s a straight road,” I finally responded, hastily pointed the direction to her, “Just follow that row of utility poles up ahead. Did you get lost?”
“Yeah, got lost,” she maintained that polite smile rare in her age group, only about eight years old but smiling like a princess. She said she was lost, yet showed not a hint of concern, her nerves perhaps tougher than mine. “I was trying to lose them but ended up losing myself. It’ll be fine as soon as I find South Street, now they should be searching along that road for me.”
“Oh,” I nodded, “then you better hurry.”
“Wait a second, the old auntie said to repay favors when receiving help, that’s also etiquette—” The young girl began rummaging through her belongings, and magically pulled a pretty little bag from the folds of her complex clothing. She retrieved a hodgepodge of items and placed them before me, including chocolate beans, small glass marbles, pen caps and erasers, and a commemorative stamp with a print of blue sea and sky. As I was wondering about how the loli managed to carry all kinds of things together, she handed over the colorful stamp, “Take this! Now you can write to me in the future, you need a stamp to send a letter!”
But it’s the first time I’ve heard of using commemorative stamps!
“Hey,” I casually checked myself too but only pulled out a crooked block of wood from my school uniform pocket. I vaguely remember secretly whittling it during class, the material from the teacher’s podium. “This is for you, I carved a Zhu Bajie… but it’s just the handle of a rake, um, just the handle of a rake. You can pretend it’s Sun Wukong.”
“Hehe, so ugly,” the little girl giggled as she took my crookedly carved rake or Jingu Bang. “But it’s kind of impressive, thank you for the… um, wood!”
After saying that, she laughed and skipped away merrily.
I was stunned, staring in surprise until she disappeared behind the last telegraph pole, then came back to my senses and continued to figure out just what was happening now.
Suddenly, it grew dark.
It wasn’t because the sun had set and the sky had dimmed; in fact, the sun was still lazily hanging slightly above the horizon. However, the sky rapidly grew dark so visibly that I looked around in shock, noticing everything in sight gradually being overshadowed, as if something was canceling out the effect of “light” in the natural world, or as if many unseen, untouchable things were blocking the sunlight. The spreading shadow expanded so quickly that within less than a minute, it felt like it was midnight somehow. Then, an overwhelming sense of oppression and the feeling of imminent danger surged up intensely, I almost instinctively tried to forcibly use the Void Form to escape this bizarre “dreamlike scenario.” But that feeling had already flashed by, the shadows in my vision gradually retreated, the sunset once again gilded buildings with golden edges, and as the last wisp of shadow left, a voice flickered intermittently through my mind: “…confirmation…received…if…response…from…”
In a daze, the loli version of Qianqian came running out of the house, crying loudly, scared by the sudden darkness just now, while Sister stood at the door blankly holding a workbook and staring at the sky, as lights gradually lit up one by one in the uninhabited houses around. I reached out, trying to catch Qianqian who seemed about to fall, but then a strong green light swept over my vision.
Mixed noises drifted from a faraway place, I felt like traversing a twisted tunnel, and after opening my eyes again from the momentary dizziness, a lush, subtly fragrant garden enfolded my vision.
Behind me stood a massive wall of white stone covered with intertwined vines.
This was the Star Domain Divine Realm, the garden personally planted by the Supreme Life Goddess.
Dazed, I stumbled out from a fragrant cluster of Divine Vine, almost tripping three times in between. I must say, Life Goddess did an excellent job with her home’s greenery; I had never seen flowers grown so profusely that there wasn’t any place to step. Of course, considering those flying Three-inch Ding folks, it started to make sense. Upon entering the temple’s range, I sensed Dingdang’s presence, just not far ahead. Turning past a curtain woven from vines, I saw the little fellow standing face to face with the Supreme Life Goddess Jiajia, both wearing serious expressions, with a plastic fabric-made chessboard spread between them. On the board stood many wild Dingdang, dressed in green and red dresses, at the board’s drop points. Just then, one Three-inch Ding in a red dress tossed a smaller one in green off the board, and Dingdang proudly pointed at the board: “LuLu! Move the chariot, straight ahead!”
Named LuLu, the green-clad Little Douding raised the tiny “chariot” flag belligerently and charged towards the red-colored Douding opposite. The two little ones tussled on the chessboard for a while, and the slender LuLu was tossed off the board by the “cannon” that should have captured her.
Me: “…”
Something seemed off.
“Ah, Sister Goddess! This isn’t right! LuLu should have tossed Pakiki off, right?”
The Supreme Life Goddess smiled cunningly: “Hmph, where on the battlefield wouldn’t the sight of a charging enemy provoke resistance? The rule you mentioned isn’t magic—it should be when two chess pieces meet, the stronger stays!”
After that, the Supreme Life Goddess pointed at the board: “Pakiki! Cannon strikes horse, General!”
The Three-inch Ding holding the “cannon” flag enthusiastically sprinted forward, planning to hop over the back of the green-clad Douding opposite, who, seeing the red-clad opponent rushing over, instantly forgot the chess “cannon crossing mountain” rule and frantically tripped the opponent. Then, the two little ones rolled onto the ground, laughing heartily together.
Me: “…”
Jiajia: “…”
Dingdang: “On the battlefield! On the battlefield! Can’t let the enemy use you as a springboard, duh!”
The Douding on the chessboard finally descended into utter chaos, tossing aside their chariot-horse-cannon flags and began to playfully brawl. The five-yuan chessboard made of plastic fabric was instantly wrung into a big mess, with the Supreme Life Goddess wobbling in mid-air: “That’s more like it! Never were those earlier rules practical!”
Dingdang joyfully somersaulted in the air: “Exactly, not scientific, not magic! But Dingdang thought watching Ah Jun play this was quite interesting…”
“How did he play?”
“Stacked up the chess pieces and built a fortress.”
I immediately felt deeply ashamed, could not hold back anymore, and stepped out actively, waving at the crowd of wild Dingdang and a domestic Dingdang and a super Dingdang: “Hey, is everyone playing?”
My domestic Dingdang cheerfully rushed over: “Ah Jun is here! Have you finished talking with Father God? Ah Jun, come and teach Sister Goddess to play chess, using the pieces to build a fortress!”
I continued to feel deeply ashamed, resolved to never do such fourth-grade stuff again! Especially not in front of Dingdang.
The Supreme Life Goddess gave me a glance, evidently only a tiny bit taller than Dingdang’s small stature, yet wore a mystic look and nodded slightly: “Ha, see, you just went for a spin!”
I was instantly dumbfounded. (To be continued. If you like this work, you’re welcome to vote for recommendation tickets and monthly tickets on Qidian (). Your support is my greatest motivation.)