The passionate growth in the world of fireworks
Chen Xu's youth is a symphony of sounds, colors and smells, noisy, lively and steaming.
His world was his old 90-square-meter apartment, the aroma of cooking in the hallway, the clanking of his father's bicycle on weekend mornings, and the soft rhythmic flapping of his mother's quilts as she hung them out to dry on the balcony. His room was small, its walls covered with sports posters and movie posters. His desk was always a bit messy, with exercise books and half-read comics spread out.
His youth was spent on the basketball court, wearing worn-out sneakers, sweating profusely with a group of buddies, screaming for a goal, blaming each other when they lost, and then arm in arm drinking soda. It was in the school cafeteria, fighting for the last portion of braised pork, sharing vegetables, and sharing the unique pickles brought from home. It was after evening self-study, pedaling his bicycle with classmates who were going the same way, singing off-key songs, and laughing so loudly that it could startle sparrows on the roadside.
He wasn't a top student, but he was incredibly popular. He was the class's "happy guy," the organizer of the sports day, the hardest-working member during class cleaning, yet also the one most prone to slacking off and cracking jokes. He would stay up all night studying for finals, complaining with dark circles under his eyes, "I'm dying!" But when the results came out, he'd be ecstatic to score a few extra points, dragging his deskmate to the canteen to celebrate.
His emotional enlightenment came from the ponytailed, dimpled-faced girl from the next class who served as the arts committee member. He had slipped anonymous movie tickets into her desk, but he stood her up because he was pulled off to help out at a class basketball game. Later, he mustered up the courage to give her a bottle of iced Coke in person, stammering and struggling to articulate his words. The girl smiled and accepted, but he ultimately didn't dare to express his love. This unrequited crush became a faint, sweet, and slightly bitter mark of his youth. Years later, when he recalled it, he could only scratch his head and grin, without any regrets.
His worries were concrete: his pocket money was never enough, his parents confiscated his video game console, he had a few annoying pimples, and his monthly exam ranking had dropped again, forcing him to be criticized. But these worries never truly overwhelmed him, because they always vanished after a bowl of midnight snack from his mother, a clumsy heart-to-heart talk from his father, or a hearty game of ball with friends.
His youth was filled with conflict and turmoil, but also with unconditional support and simple joy. He grew up passionately in a community, amidst the warmth of everyday life, and under the loving gaze of his parents. He learned to share, to collaborate, and to experience the warmth and power of human connection. This ensured that no matter what he encountered, he would always maintain a fertile, sunny soil in his heart. It gave him an instinctive belief in warmth, an radiant enthusiasm, and a persistent desire to reach out and warm those who seemed cold and lonely. His youth was a noisy yet bright coming-of-age novel, whose protagonist was always passionate and always believed in the next sunny day.
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