In 1993, on the very day I was born, a chubby nurse was carrying me to the nursery when she slipped and fell flat on her face! She landed right on top of me, crushing me beneath her! If it weren't for my strong will to survive, I swear that 200-pound meatball would've squashed me to death!
My dad, who wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, was at a complete loss when it came time to name me. Just then, the movie The Way of the Dragon, starring Bruce Lee, was playing on TV. Inspiration struck, and he slammed the table and declared, "Let's name him Li Xiaolong (Bruce Lee)!" It was fitting—after all, our family name was Li.
But when my birth certificate was submitted, somehow, someone managed to mess it all up, and instead of Li Xiaolong, they wrote down Zhang Xiaolong! And just like that, our family household register held the biggest joke in history! My father's name was Li Guofu, but I, his son, was named Zhang Xiaolong. What the heck! Which idiot made this mistake? Seriously, who ever heard of a son not having the same last name as his father? But since my family lived in a rural area, and my parents were uneducated, this whole mess was never really fixed.
When I was five, I was running around in crotchless pants, playing a game of throwing rocks with four other kids. One of those rocks smashed the window of Grandpa Li's house next door! I swear it wasn't me who threw the rock—it was one of the other kids! But when Grandpa Li came out to ask who did it, all four of them pointed at me in perfect unison, like they had rehearsed it! Unbelievable! I was furious—what a bunch of backstabbers! I swore to myself that I would never play with those guys again. Later, my dad had to pay for the broken window and gave me a good beating when we got home.
When I was six, I was following my mom around, but I forgot she had a habit of closing doors behind her without looking. My head got caught in the door, and I burst into tears on the spot. My head swelled up like a balloon, and it took over a month for the bump to go down.
At seven, I got confused between Chinese pinyin and the English alphabet, so my teacher wouldn't let me graduate from kindergarten to first grade. I had the honor of repeating the year.
At eight, during recess, I was showing off a can of Jianlibao, a popular drink, in front of my classmates. When I pulled the tab to open it, the drink exploded everywhere, soaking my desk partner Xiaohui's chest. Panicking, I tried to wipe it off for her, but just then, the bell rang, and our balding, middle-aged teacher walked in. Seeing me rubbing Xiaohui's chest, he shouted, "Let go of that girl!"
He dragged me to the office for a serious talk, accusing me of being too mature for my age and disrespecting my female classmates. He almost expelled me! It wasn't until my dad bribed him with two roosters that I was allowed to stay, but not without punishment—I had to repeat another year in kindergarten.
At nine, I finally graduated from kindergarten! My dad was moved to tears and proudly told anyone who would listen, "My son's going places!"
At eleven, my dad's factory was on the verge of bankruptcy, but at the crucial moment, he came up with an idea that saved the entire company! The factory owner was so grateful that he promoted my dad to manager and even sponsored his education, from basic pinyin to financial management. Talk about luck! Who would've thought a simple rural laborer like my dad could have such a stroke of fortune?
That same year, a few friends and I sneaked into someone's orchard to steal apples, but the owner's dog spotted us and gave chase. We ran for our lives! I was in the lead, but for some reason, the dog zeroed in on me. It ignored the others, tackled me to the ground, and bit me all over! My so-called friends were nowhere to be seen—they'd ditched me without a second thought! I ended up getting several stitches at the hospital and had to get a rabies shot. The school was so scared I'd spread something to the other kids that they gave me a six-month leave, way longer than summer vacation! I was thrilled.
Around the same time, the factory owner bought my family a new apartment in the city so my dad could be closer to work. We moved, and I finally said goodbye to those backstabbing "friends" who had sold me out for years.
At twelve, with my parents out of the house, I decided to clean the windows to surprise them. I lost my balance and fell. We lived on the second floor—just the second floor! But somehow, I managed to break a leg.
At thirteen, I snuck off with some classmates to smoke in the school bathroom. Just then, the disciplinary officer burst in for a surprise inspection! Everyone else quickly ditched their cigarettes into the toilet and popped gum into their mouths. But I, the fool, stood there grinning with the cigarette still dangling from my lips.
At fourteen, I confessed my feelings to a girl and was brutally rejected. Heartbroken, I decided to drink pesticide and end it all. I spent 130 yuan to buy some from a local shop, but when I took a sip, I spat it out immediately—it had a dead toenail in it! I threw up all night and was completely drained the next morning.
At fifteen, reflecting on the tragedy of my life, I decided to try suicide again. This time, I went to a different pesticide store. I opened the bottle at home and discovered I'd won a "free bottle" prize under the cap! Tears filled my eyes. Fifteen years—fifteen years, and I'd finally won something! In my excitement, I ran back to the shop to claim my prize. When I got home, my parents were waiting on the couch, the open pesticide bottle sitting on the table in front of them. Their stern faces told me everything. I got another beating that day. From that moment on, I swore never to mess around with pesticides again.
At sixteen, I was peeing at the base of an electric pole when it suddenly gave me a shock! I almost died right there! I cried, "What did I ever do to deserve this? I just wanted to pee, and now I'm almost dead!"
At seventeen, I finally got into a nearby high school, but it was a private one, and we had to pay for it. My academic performance could be summed up with a line of poetry: "Crowds ahead of me, none behind." Getting into a school at all was a miracle. Despite being at the bottom of the class, my dad decided to throw me a graduation banquet!
That same year, my mom bought me a "Gelanzi 1258" bike, which I rode to school every day. I didn't mind; the school was only about a fifteen-minute ride from home.
I got pretty skilled at riding after a while and could even ride without using my hands, like some kind of circus act. But then, the unexpected happened. One day, as I was showing off my no-hands trick, I didn't notice a small stone in front of me. The front wheel hit it, and I was thrown off the bike. I landed hard, dislocating my jaw and breaking my left arm. My parents rushed me to the hospital, where I ended up staying for seven days. My arm was put in a cast, and the doctors managed to reattach my jaw.
While I was in the hospital, my girlfriend of three months came to visit. She left after telling me, "You're a good guy," which is code for, "I'm dumping you." I thought to myself, she's probably calling me an idiot in her heart. I mean, who could put up with a boyfriend whose head had been slammed by a door as a kid, who repeated kindergarten twice, fell off a second-floor balcony and broke his leg, failed at two suicide attempts, nearly got electrocuted while peeing, and managed to dislocate his jaw riding a bike?
When I was discharged from the hospital, the doctor gave me a warning: since my jaw had been dislocated once, it would now be much easier for it to pop out again. He taught me how to fix it myself and advised me to chew slowly, speak softly, and avoid opening my mouth too wide—no yelling, and no singing.
Despite my best efforts, the jaw incidents kept happening. Once, while eating lunch in the cafeteria, my jaw suddenly popped out. Saliva dripped down my chin, and the three women across from me started shouting, calling me a pervert and a creep. I was speechless—no matter how bad my taste might be, I wouldn't drool over those three dinosaurs! Unbelievable.
Word about me spread through the school fast. At Qingtian City No. 2 High School, you might not know the name of the school's top beauty, but there's no way you wouldn't have heard of the school's biggest joke: Mr. Zhang Xiaolong.
I was practically famous. My "popularity" was through the roof, with a 90% head-turn rate as I walked down the halls. People whispered behind my back, and no one in my class wanted to be friends with me. But I didn't care; they just couldn't see the true potential of a "real man" like me.
It was mid-October, and by the time school let out, the sky was already pitch black. Riding my bike home, I noticed a crowd gathered around something up ahead.
"An accident?" I thought, intrigued by the commotion. I pushed my trusty Gelanzi 1258 through the crowd, eager to get a closer look. I finally squeezed to the front, but before I could take in the scene, a trembling old voice called out, "Grandson, grandson, help Grandpa!"
I turned to see a ragged old man lying by the roadside, pointing his finger straight at me.
"Me?" I asked, pointing to my nose.
I had never seen this old man before, but I was sure he was talking to me. With all the bad luck I'd had, finding a "free grandpa" in the middle of the street seemed par for the course. By now, I was used to this kind of nonsense.
"It's you, my dear grandson!" The old man called out with such affection.
Just because I'm unlucky doesn't mean I'm stupid, though. I nodded and asked, "Do you know my name?"
"Zhang Xiaolong," the old man answered quickly and clearly.
"How do you know that?!" I blurted out, shocked.
Just then, a bystander chimed in, "Kid, you're from No. 2 High School, right? Pretending not to know your grandfather—what poor character! I'm going to report you to your school principal."
The old man added, "Grandson, help me up. I raised you, and now it's time for you to show some respect."
Respect my foot!
This had to be the unluckiest day of my life. If I didn't help the old man, there was a real chance I'd get expelled from school. But if I did help him, this guy might turn out to be a scammer and latch onto me for life.
With so many people watching, I had no choice. I went over and helped the old man to his feet. As he stood up, he leaned in close and whispered, "Wondering how I knew your name? Your school ID badge is pinned right to your chest."
I almost dropped him right then and there.