Chapter Eleven: Childhood

At exactly 6:55 p.m., Su Tong logged into the Nian Nu Jiao room with Xiao Yu and Xiao Xiao right on time.

“Wow, am I in the right room?” Su Tong exclaimed as soon as he entered. “There are over ten thousand people here! Heh, good evening, everyone. Come on, Xiao Qiao, Da Qiao, say hello to everyone.”

“Good evening, everyone!” Xiao Yu and Xiao Xiao chimed in together with their childish voices.

Usually, when he first logged in, Su Tong only turned on his microphone, leaving the video off, so—

“Brother, turn on the video. Let’s see you and our little darlings.”

“Brother, give me back my Fairy Zixia.”

“Turn on the video, I want to strangle you, you rascal. You’ve left me in a daze for two whole days.”

“No singing, just Journey to the West.”

Messages flooded in from countless quick-typing fans, bombarding Su Tong faster than he could read.

“Spare me, heroes! I won’t dare next time,” Su Tong replied with a cheeky grin as he turned on his video. Inwardly, he muttered, “As if I wouldn’t dare. You’ll be crying for sure in the future if you threaten me, hmph.”

“Ha ha, let me officially greet everyone. Welcome, all of you who are so full you had nothing better to do than come to my concert. Sleepless tonight, an unforgettable evening…” Su Tong teased. His shows were always like this: fans roasted him, he roasted them back, and everyone had a good laugh.

“Brother, are you really going to sing? Just say if you need money. We’re not short on cash, but we do value our lives.”

“Hey, don’t knock Brother like that. But I like it, haha.”

“Start with ‘Catching Loaches’. I want grilled loach.”

The fans’ enthusiasm burned like fire in the desert—never running dry.

“Okay, they say dragon meat in the sky and donkey meat on earth. Xiao Yu, let’s catch a few dragons for everyone to try,” Su Tong said as showtime arrived, helping Xiao Yu set up the accompaniment.

“Brother’s really obliging tonight—fulfilling everyone’s wishes so easily. Is there a catch?” The crowd sensed something was up, but couldn’t quite put their finger on it.

Xiao Yu, a seasoned performer now, sang “Catching Loaches” flawlessly, winning over a new wave of fans.

“Rewards incoming!”

Rows of Häagen-Dazs icons filled the screen, prompting Xiao Xiao to cheer with delight.

Watching her, a fleeting hint of resolve flashed in Su Tong’s eyes. He’d eaten plenty of Häagen-Dazs before—back when his father’s business hadn’t collapsed. But Xiao Xiao had tasted it only once.

There was nothing to be done; by the time Xiao Xiao came to live with the Su family, the good days had already ended.

“Haha, here’s tonight’s program: first, more jokes about Xiao Ming and the lady teacher; then Xiao Yu will sing; then we’ll continue with some stories; and finally, my singing performance,” Su Tong announced.

“Why do you sing last, Brother?”

“Oh, I know—Brother’s afraid he’ll scare us all away if he sings now.”

“Yes, that must be it.”

“Brother, I’m not afraid! Sing me to death, and then sing me back to life—I wouldn’t survive it otherwise.”

The fans never missed a beat, taking every opportunity to poke fun at Su Tong.

The old Su Tong might have struggled with this, but the new Su Tong was invulnerable—laughing at the world while the world failed to understand him.

“Alright, Xiao Ming and the lady teacher are on their way. Here they come,” Su Tong grinned, launching into the jokes.

[Teacher: “Xiao Ming, what would you do if you grew up and experienced heartbreak?”

Xiao Ming: “If I’m heartbroken, I’ll just go home to my wife.”

Teacher: “Get out!”]

The joke ended amid a wave of laughter.

“Ha, haha, I can’t breathe—I can’t take it.”

“Oh my, Xiao Ming must be one of us Northeasterners.”

“Goofy Xiao Ming, hehe, I want a boyfriend like that—someone who makes me laugh every day.”

“Ouch, my stomach hurts.”

Jokes and humor were a sign of wit, and Su Tong’s new material kept his fan base growing. After the laughter faded, admiration took its place.

The old Su Tong had always been a bit clever; now, it seemed, he was truly coming into his own.

[Xiao Ming: “Teacher, I want to go online.”

Teacher: “Get out!”

Xiao Ming bolted out of the classroom before she finished her sentence.

Teacher: “Damn! That was just a slip of the tongue—get back here!”]

A few more jokes left everyone laughing so hard they nearly lost their dinner. Some begged him to stop, saying any more would be fatal.

Su Tong knew about aesthetic fatigue, so he stopped before it set in. “Next up, it’s Da Qiao’s turn. This song is another brand-new piece, never before heard.”

“Wow, Brother, don’t tell me you wrote this one too. I know you’re talented, but you can’t be this talented. How are the rest of us supposed to live?”

“Brother, how does this song compare to ‘Catching Loaches’?”

“I want to hear it! Da Qiao, sing!”

Messages scrolled by in a blur, a cacophony of voices.

Su Tong picked the question everyone wanted answered. “How does this song compare? I think each has its own merits. If I had to say, this one probably appeals to more people—broader in scope.”

“Yes, just like ‘Catching Loaches,’ its theme is childhood. But childhood is so colorful. This song won’t just remind you of Brother Little Ox—it’ll bring back much more, so much that your heart fills with bittersweetness,” Su Tong said, setting the mood.

“Childhood contains so much that we nearly forget it all. I don’t know about you, but when I remember, there’s a trace of sadness—the most beautiful things are always lost.” Su Tong started the accompaniment: “Let’s step into our time machine with ‘Childhood’ and journey back.”

The music started—a version arranged by Lo Ta-yu, Su Tong’s favorite.

Xiao Yu glanced at Su Tong, who nodded at her.

He’d instructed her to sing this song with childlike cheer, not a hint of sorrow.

“By the banyan tree at the pond, the cicadas are singing of summer.”

Xiao Yu’s voice was ethereal, and while this song didn’t demand a special timbre, her rendition felt so natural that after hearing her sing it, no other version quite compared.

“A pond again? Doesn’t Brother’s house have a pond nearby?” the fans mused as they listened.

“On the swing by the playground, only butterflies land there.

The teacher’s chalk is still scribbling and chattering on the blackboard.

Waiting for class to end, waiting for school to finish, waiting for the games of childhood.”

By this point, everyone was lost in the song, as if they’d traveled back to their own childhoods.

It struck right at the heart.

“The convenience store has everything, except there’s not a single coin in my pocket.

Who got the magic sword—Zhuge Silang or the Devil’s Gang?

Why hasn’t the boy from the next class passed by my window?

Snacks in my mouth, comics in my hand, first love in my heart—my childhood.

Only before bed do I realize I’ve barely done any homework.

Only after exams do I realize I haven’t studied at all.”

No one typed a word; the room had fallen silent, as though you could hear a pin drop.

Everyone had been transported into the world of the song. Each person’s memories were different, but all shared one thing: the cheerful voice carried no sorrow, yet brought forth a gentle ache and wistfulness. It was a sadness that made you want to cry, but never quite enough to bring tears.