"Auntie Xu? Auntie Xu! What's wrong with you?" The fish vendor saw Xu Zhendi staring blankly at the tattered newspaper in her hands as if she had lost her soul, standing motionless for a long while. He couldn't help but feel puzzled and raised his voice to nudge her. "Don't you want the fish?"
"Ah, ah, I... I... No, I don't want the fish anymore," Xu Zhendi startled by his sudden loudness, clutched the newspaper tightly in her hands, as if afraid the vendor might snatch it back.
However, the vendor didn't care about the old newspaper; he was more irked by the change of mind: "What's this about? I've already prepared it for you, after haggling for so long, and now you say you don't want it? That's not okay, Auntie Xu."
"Ah... no... I mean, I'll take it, I will," finally snapping back to reality, Xu Zhendi hastily reached for her money, and then awkwardly asked, "How much was it again?"
"37 yuan and 50 cents!" The vendor replied irritably, finding Xu Zhendi's behavior today unusually erratic.
"Ah, right, right, here's the money," at the moment, Xu Zhendi seemed as if she had discovered a secret treasure, extremely anxious about others noticing her, wishing she could just vanish. She quickly handed the money to the vendor and, clutching the newspaper, turned and walked away.
"Hey! The fish! You're forgetting your fish!" The vendor, having taken the money, realized Xu Zhendi was several meters away without her purchase and almost laughed at the absurdity. He shouted after her. If they weren't old acquaintances, he might have kept the fish for himself, and Xu Zhendi would have had nowhere to complain.
"Oh, right, right, I need it. Sorry, my memory isn't what it used to be... Sorry, Xiao Ye," Xu Zhendi, hearing the shout, hurried back, took the plastic bag holding the fish, trying to stuff it into her grocery bag but afraid of getting it wet. The newspaper in her hand was now too precious to use as a liner, leaving her somewhat flustered as she walked back home, gripping it tightly.
"What's with Auntie Xu today, all out of sorts?" The vendor shook his head, baffled by the situation.
In the heart of the bustling metropolis of Shanghai, districts like Jing'an, Xuhui, and Huangpu are known for their commercial centers and upscale residential areas, while Zhabei and Yangpu districts house a large population of low-income residents. Even taxi drivers earning a few thousand yuan a month know, "Zhabei, Yangpu? Those are places where the poor live."
As a "fringe area" of Shanghai, Zhabei is filled with old brick-and-wood structures. Crowded into continuous "shantytowns" are various low-income individuals, such as educated youths returned from the borders, and migrant workers, all living under relatively poor economic conditions. Statistics show that in Zhabei district, 3.6% of the registered population claims minimum living security, mostly unemployed, elderly, and children, and the "marginal population" here is three times the total number receiving this minimum support.
North Road Community at No. 749, Tianzhong Road, in Zhabei district is a typical example. This area was known as a poor district of Shanghai some seventy to eighty years ago, filled with small, cramped "rolling cages" housing many homeless and impoverished people. It was later transformed into an area for industrial workers, changing its face entirely. However, as times changed, today's North Road has once again become a gathering place for low-income groups.
Having lived in North Road for decades, neighbors know each other well. Xu Zhendi, carrying her fish and groceries, rushed into the small building and bumped into Qu Meiling, a fellow resident on the second floor.
Qu Meiling, a middle-aged woman of similar age to Xu, greeted her with a smile as she hurried upstairs: "Zhendi, you're back early today."
Xu Zhendi, however, seemed not to hear her and continued up the stairs, head down, leaving Qu Meiling standing there with a puzzled expression.
"This Xu Zhendi, not even acknowledging a greeting. What's so great about her? Just because she has a son studying abroad, thinking they will take her to the USA? Dream on. She might just come back dejected in a couple of months. I've heard staying in the US isn't easy; who knows if he'll even find a job when he comes back to Shanghai," Qu Meiling muttered under her breath, comforting herself with these thoughts, seemingly unaware of the envy in her words.
Usually spry, Xu Zhendi felt her heart beating unusually fast today as she climbed the stairs. It took her a while to fish out her keys and open the door to her fourth-floor apartment, a fifty-some square meter old flat given to her in the '90s for her good work at the factory.
When her son was still in China, the family of four squeezed into this small apartment. Now, with her son studying abroad and her daughter mostly living at school, things have loosened up a bit.
Xu Zhendi hurriedly set down her grocery bag and poured the fish from the plastic bag into a basin. Suddenly, she seemed to remember something and turned back to double-check the door was locked. Only then did she carefully put on her reading glasses and pulled out the neatly folded newspaper to read.
Unfortunately, her level of education wasn't high, and she struggled with many of the words, stammering through the article without really understanding it. She could only shake her head in frustration and set it aside, hoping her daughter would read it to her when she came back.
That morning, Xu Zhendi was restless and distracted. Even cooking was a challenge, and she ended up burning a dish. Luckily, the braised fish was spared.
"Mom, I'm back! It's so hot today, I'm boiling," Lee Xinyi breezed through the door, wiping sweat from her brow and reaching for the teapot to pour herself a drink.
Hmm? The cup was empty, which was unusual because the pot was always hot when she got home. Slightly surprised but not overly concerned, she was about to boil water when she saw Xu Zhendi walking over mysteriously, not saying a word, closing the door behind her first.
"Xinyi, come and look, is this your brother?" Xu Zhendi said mysteriously, pulling out the newspaper.
"Mom, what's burning? You left the stove on!" Lee Xinyi, noticing her mother's nervous demeanor, quickly reminded her.
Xu Zhendi slapped her forehead, turned off the stove without a second thought, and eagerly pulled Lee Xinyi towards her. "Quick, look, look."
"What is it that's got you so worked up?" Lee Xinyi mumbled, taking the grubby, wrinkled newspaper. "Yikes, it really is my brother!"
"As reported by The New York Times, the young Chinese-American scientist, Bruce Lee, has sold the patent rights for the new erectile dysfunction drug 'Vilda' to Pfizer Pharmaceuticals for $1.08 billion, making it the biggest news of the week..."
As Lee Xinyi read, her eyes widened in disbelief, so absorbed in the article she forgot to read aloud. This made Xu Zhendi even more anxious, and she tapped her shoulder, "Well, read it out! Is it talking about your brother?"
The newspaper was a June issue of the "Shanghai Weekend," and Bruce's news was actually tucked away in a corner of the last page, barely noticeable if not for the photo and eye-catching headline. The main content above detailed the anticipated market approval of Vilda in the latter half of the year...
Lee Xinyi scoured the whole page, her and Xu Zhendi's eyes fixated on the blurry photo. The more they looked, the more it resembled their Bruce.
"But that's not right, my brother studies law. How did he suddenly become a scientist? His English name is indeed Bruce," Lee Xinyi turned to Xu Zhendi, both of them confused. She was sure it looked like her brother, but it was hard to understand how he had switched fields from law to bio-pharmaceuticals.
It wasn't surprising that Lee Xinyi was confused. The family was out of the loop about the Vilda news, which had briefly mentioned the Chinese-American scientist Bruce Lee but never his Chinese name.
With millions around the world sharing the common name "Bruce," and without any direct interviews or many photos of their Bruce, it was hard to be certain. This one photo from a Pfizer press conference had been reprinted so many times it was nearly distorted.
As for Bruce himself, he had never mentioned this venture to them, especially in recent months when every phone call was brief, citing busyness, and his contact with family had lessened. His WeChat was almost inactive, and Lee Xinyi had been quite upset over this lack of communication.