Chapter Two: Settling on the Coastal Shore

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It was just past one in the afternoon when I arrived in Qingdao by bus. I had no particular destination in mind, so I wandered wherever my feet took me. Having never seen the sea before, I was filled with curiosity. With nothing else to do, I walked from the Zhanqiao Pier all the way to the Stone Old Man area, letting the sea breeze ruffle my hair and the sun warm my face. I pondered my next steps, wondering where life would take me. The sky was already darkening—I figured I’d probably have to sleep on the streets that night.

As I was passing by a club, I noticed a job posting on the door: they were hiring waitstaff, male or female, with a monthly salary between seven hundred and a thousand, meals and lodging included, both day and night shifts available. To me, this was a stroke of incredible luck. Eagerly, I went inside to apply. If I got the job, I’d have a foothold in Qingdao—at least I wouldn’t go hungry.

A man greeted me, sizing me up and asking what I wanted. I told him I was there for the waiter position. He curtly replied, "We’re fully staffed. Try somewhere else." So direct! I had no choice but to walk away, feeling dejected. As I sat on the steps outside, a woman approached. Seeing how lost I looked, she stopped.

She asked, "Hey there, little brother, what are you doing here?"

I replied, "Sister, I came to Qingdao to look for a job, but they didn’t want me. I just came out."

She asked, "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," I said.

"Do you have an ID card?"

"Not yet," I answered.

She nodded thoughtfully. "I’m the manager here. Call me Sister Guan. Would you like to work as a waiter?"

"Yes, I would!" I replied eagerly.

"Alright, you’ll start out as a shoe boy then. Fetch shoes for the guests, shine them, show them around, and we’ll see about moving you up later, alright?"

I nodded enthusiastically, grateful to have finally met someone willing to help me. I followed Sister Guan inside. The man who had interviewed me looked surprised. "Why is this kid back?"

Sister Guan smiled, "I know him. He used to work with me elsewhere. Isn’t it a small world?" She laughed.

The man seemed curious—after all, Sister Guan was second only to the owner, the deputy manager overseeing operations and finances, respected by everyone. I could see the deference in their eyes.

After she’d arranged for my meals, lodging, and paperwork, it was already late. Sister Guan took me out for barbecue and beer. Honestly, I didn’t like the taste of beer, but I drank with her anyway—she was my benefactor, after all.

At the table, I hurried to pull out a chair for her, wiped it down, handed her chopsticks and the menu, and bustled about.

She laughed, "Well, Liu, you really are a natural at this. You might make a great waiter someday! Excellent service—there’s a future for you."

I replied, "Thank you for your guidance, Sister Guan. I’ll work hard."

She laughed even more at that.

I didn’t understand what was so funny. I just wanted to make a good impression. My grandmother always said, "Don’t scold the greedy, don’t scold the lazy, only scold the clueless." I figured it was good to have some awareness.

That night, we didn’t eat much, but we drank a fair amount in a small private room. We got to know each other better.

Sister Guan said, "You know, I like you. Do you know why?"

I said I didn’t.

She continued, "Before my divorce, I had a son. My ex-husband left with someone else, so my son stayed with me."

I replied, "That’s not so bad—I don’t have anyone either."

She sighed, "But later, because work kept me busy, I left him with my parents back home. I never imagined that one summer, while swimming in the river, he never came back…"

She started to cry as she spoke. I asked her, "Do I remind you of him?"

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Sister Guan sighed. "If I said yes, would you want me as your godmother?"

Her words made me feel awkward. She gave a bitter smile. "Let’s not talk about it. The past is the past; there’s no going back."

She was just in a somber mood and wanted some company, taking me out to see the city at night.

Just then, a man came over and whispered something to her. Sister Guan turned to me. "You head back first. I have something to take care of." She handed me two hundred yuan to settle the bill.

As she left, I felt uneasy. She’d had a lot to drink, and I couldn’t help but worry. After some hesitation, I decided to follow her—she was my benefactor, after all, and I didn’t want anything to happen to her.

Not knowing Qingdao well, I couldn’t tell where we were, but it seemed far to the north, near a cluster of residential houses—a kind of urban village. They entered a dark alley, and I tried to follow, but I wasn’t very skilled at it and was soon noticed. They quickened their pace and soon disappeared from sight. I stood there uncertainly when suddenly something cold and metallic pressed against my head. I thought, surely it couldn’t be a gun?

I immediately threw up my hands like in the movies. "Big brother, spare me! Spare me!"

Sister Guan staggered over, sizing me up with sharp, darting eyes, her hand on her chin, finger tapping her lips. "What are you doing here? Following me?"

I admitted I was.

She exclaimed, "Really? Who told you to come?"

I replied, "I saw you leave with that man—he didn’t look trustworthy. So I followed."

She glanced at the man, who was bald except for a tuft of hair at the front, which he tossed as he looked at Sister Guan. "Who’s he talking about—me?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "With your intelligence, you can’t tell? Put that thing away—who are you fooling with a fake gun?"

The man tucked the double-barreled fake into his waistband and zipped up his jacket.

He asked what to do next.

Sister Guan said, "Since he’s here, I’ll leave him with you. Train him well—let him manage some things. He can handle it."

The man asked, "Is he up to it?"

Sister Guan replied, "I can’t say for sure, but he’s clever, quick on his feet, and not easily rattled. You saw his guts."

He grinned, "That’s true. He gave me a scare—I thought someone was out to get me."

Sister Guan scoffed, "You're not that important, Maoqiu!"

So that was his name—Fuzzball. It suited him.

"Let’s go. This isn’t the place to talk," Sister Guan said.

We entered a large courtyard in Qingdao, known as Firewood Yard, quite famous locally.

When we got inside, I felt like I’d stumbled into an orphanage. There were fifty or sixty children, most in tattered clothes, the oldest about eleven or twelve. I was probably the oldest, aside from Fuzzball.

Everyone seemed to adore Sister Guan, shouting "Mama Guan! Mama Guan!"

She greeted them warmly. "Oh my, Chuyi, Fifteen, Little Black, Dandan, you all missed me?"

"Yes, we missed you, Mama Guan!"

A boy named Chuyi stood silently behind her, looking withdrawn, gently scratching her hair clip with one finger. Just then, a timid little girl approached, eyes full of fear.

Fuzzball said, "Sister Guan, this is a new member—her name is Chengyang. She’s been here two days. No one’s claimed her, and there’s no useful information. She was found picking garbage in Chengyang District."

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"There are nineteen in total now—twenty if you count Liu Jian!" Fuzzball announced.

By now, I understood that Sister Guan wasn’t a bad person, and these children weren’t abandoned. Most were the children of criminals—some whose parents had fled, been arrested, executed, or were addicts who didn’t care for them. Sister Guan had extensive connections in both the underworld and official circles, and people respected her. She set up this informal organization called the Qingdao Care Children’s Aid Station because, in her eyes, whatever crimes parents committed, children were always innocent. This was her core belief—and perhaps, because her own child had died without parental companionship, she loved children all the more and wanted to help them. For this righteous work, people in Qingdao called her "Iron Goddess"—a name that commanded respect.

Fuzzball said, "Sister Guan, since you promised Old Third from Jimo, I’ll work with him in Jimo and establish myself. I’ll live honestly, work earnestly. Don’t worry, I won’t bring shame to you!"

Sister Guan replied, "Take your time. Train Liu Jian. I want you to leave the aid station in his hands. You’re all raised by me—I want you to live straight and have enough to eat!"

Fuzzball said, "Sister Guan, I’ll really miss this place—it’s been over ten years!"

She replied, "You’re over twenty now, grew up in this courtyard. I know you have ambitions, even if you never say it."

Fuzzball grinned, "Sister, how do you know?"

She said, "Get everyone together—I have a few words to say."

At once, Fuzzball blew a whistle, and all the children lined up—boys in one row, girls in another, arranged by height, standing at attention with military precision.

Fuzzball stood at the front. The children saluted, "Hello, Brother Mao! Thank you, Mama Guan!"

I was dumbstruck by the discipline. What was this place?

Sister Guan laughed, "And you say you have no ambition? There are less than twenty kids, but it feels like a company or a regiment. Are you the regimental commander, Fuzzball?"

He just smiled wryly and said nothing.

Sister Guan addressed everyone, "There will be many who join this family, and many who leave. The barracks may be made of iron, but soldiers come and go. Fate has brought us together, but sometimes, once we part, we may never meet again. I hope you all learn some skills and knowledge, so you can have a good and normal life in the future. My greatest wish is that you stay on the right path. Do you understand?"

The children shouted, "Yes! We understand!"

It was clear that, though Fuzzball didn’t look like much, he really had the makings of a leader.

I quietly gave him a thumbs-up.

After Sister Guan left, I stayed on. Since I was the oldest, everything except for Fuzzball’s responsibilities fell to me. That guy just gave orders and did nothing else!

Life there was run like a military camp: up at six, breakfast at six-thirty, morning exercises at seven, cleaning at eight, three classes from nine to eleven—Chinese, math, and social science, lunch at noon, nap from one to two, two classes from three to five—politics and physical education, dinner at six, watching the news at seven, and bed at eight.

My duties included managing daily affairs, overseeing chores and classes, checking rooms, and even riding a tricycle to buy groceries and household necessities, and keeping the accounts.

Since I was the oldest, everyone called me "Axe-and-Club Brother," a nickname Fuzzball gave me—he said if I was going to follow him, I’d have to be able to swing an axe to chop wood and wield a club to stoke the fire, skilled in both martial and civil arts. I didn’t see what was so "civil" about it—maybe the "fire" in "civil fire" and "martial fire"?

Despite everything, Fuzzball was a funny guy, and we all got along well. I didn’t mind—I had food and drink, and that was enough for me. The rest didn’t matter.

So, from then on, I stayed there, assisting Fuzzball in managing the children of the courtyard.