The next morning, I was the last to pass my form to my dormmate. He left shortly after to look for the teacher in charge.
We thought it was going to take quite a while, but we actually received individual messages that noon.
They came from foreign numbers and my message was as followed:
(This is Xi Shan Kang Ning Mental Institution’s human resource department, and we have received your application. Please report to us on the 29th of July, and your program will end on the 29th of August. Please be punctual. Our address is the peak of East Mountain on East Mountain Road.)
East Mountain madhouse, indeed.
That’s its name amongst common people.
The impression of patients there originated from chit chats spreading around in school.
There had been a few seniors who fell ill due to work pressure or heartache from failed relationships and were sent there to undergo injections, shock therapies, or even human experiments. These stories became our school legend, but there were some people who really believed it to be true.
I looked at the date on my phone. July 26.
I had to be there in three days’ time.
Time passed in the blink of an eye and I was still somewhere at a loss when my alarm woke me up on the 29th.
I stepped out of the dormitory, left school, found a public bicycle, and cycled for over 40 minutes to reach the bottom of East Mountain.
There were very few people around.
I cycled my way up the mountain and came across a coach.
The driver stopped before me and wound down his window.
Going up?
I nodded and he opened the rear door.
I parked the bicycle by the side and hopped on.
It’s really deep inside. Are you here to visit?
the driver asked, smiling.
To volunteer,
I answered.
University student?
Yeah,
I nodded and lowered my head.
I haven’t seen many university students around. My son’s in university, too. He’s in year 1. I’m actually thinking of sending him to work during the holiday instead of letting him sit around at home like Buddha,
he said as he looked at me in the rearview mirror.
I’ve been tasked by the school as well, or I won’t be here either,
I responded sheepishly, scratching my head.
Alright, go get a seat. I’ll drive faster since there isn’t a lot of people around. Remember my schedule: I start daily from the bottom at eight in the morning and go up every hour and down every half. The last bus ends at eight in the evening, so don’t be late,
he reminded kindly.
I nodded before walking to the last row of the bus.
Ahh!
I yelled when I spotted something on the seats.
The driver turned around and understood immediately.
Oh, her… don’t be afraid. She’s from the institution and her name’s Xiaoyu.
It was then that I realized it was a human lying down on the seats and not an object.
Our eyes met.
She was young and had prominent features, instantly reminding me of my deskmate in elementary school.
My deskmate was practically the goddess of the school, but I was young and I did not understand love.
Looking at the girl on the bus, I found myself taking a liking toward her.
With a smile, I asked,
Hi, little friend. May I have a seat?
The driver made honked for a few seconds before driving off.
Little friend’s not my name. I’m Pang Xiaoyu,
she corrected, sitting up to free the seat for me.
Little friend?
I repeated.
No, Pang Xiaoyu.
She pouted.
Fat little fish?
I smiled.
Fine, call me Little Friend,
she gave up and turned to look out of the window.
I laughed and took my seat beside her.
Don’t bully her, aye. She’s the gem of the institution,
the bus driver called out.
Gem?
I repeated.
She was born in the institution,
he explained.
Doctor’s child?
I asked instinctively.
No, a patient’s. You’ll know more in due time. She’s impressive. Ever heard of the TV program ‘The Strongest Brains’? That show is about intelligent people,
he added.
‘The Strongest Brains’? This child?
I asked.
Yeah, the president adores this child. He started teaching her math when she turned three. She’s never been to school and learns everything from him. She’s 12 now and can gauge quantities very well and can even calculate movement and trajectory.
Movement and trajectory? Isn’t this logical stuff?
I asked.
Heard of the dual color ball lottery? She’s unable to guess the numbers, of course, or our institution would’ve been rich by now. But if she were to see the lottery box, she would be able to predict the numbers just 3 seconds after the balls start spinning. You can get her to show you next time,
he explained.
You’re kidding?
I exclaimed.
The girl whispered,
A bird shit will land on the front window in six seconds.
What? Bird shit?
I echoed, puzzled.
She pointed to the front and I followed her direction.
Indeed, right at that point, I saw a bird shit splattering on the window.
Uh, bad luck!
the driver yelled before activating his water spray and wiper.
My jaw dropped and I turned back to her.
How did you know that?
I saw a blackbird above and did some calculations. Right, he’s gonna brake soon,
she added.
Before I knew it, the bus jerked strongly.
How did you know that?
I was starting to sound like a moronic echo.
Because we’re here, dummy,
she said laughingly.
I was speechless.
The driver opened the back door.
Alright, get down!
As I was standing up, the girl pulled the window open and jumped out.
Hey! That’s dangerous!
I shouted after her, but she was already running inside.
What…
Go on. The small house on the left should be the human resource office,
the driver said and came over to close the window.
I got off the car and walked toward the house.
I knocked on the door but no one answered.
After a long time, I started getting impatient.
I walked to the windows, hoping to see what was going on inside.
That was when I saw the sticky note posted on the inside.
(Out for work. Will be back in 3 days. Please look for the president if you need any assistance.)
I scanned the ginormous institution and spotted a loft in the distance.
The president sure knew how to enjoy life.
I strolled through the courtyard and entered the main hall.
The patients and nurses I passed were busy with their own things and no one paid attention to me.
I got to the elevator, made my way up to the loft, and knocked on the door.
Come in, it’s not locked,
an old voice sounded.
I entered and my first impression of him was that he was pretty trendy.
Kinda like Professor X?
Shiny head, wheelchair, and the little girl on the bus was standing beside him as well.
She was doing some deductions on the blackboard.
It was very complicated. Extremely complicated.
The closely packed numbers made me dizzy.
The uppermost formula made my jaw drop. I recognized that problem.
Leonhard Euler formula!
I asked with a shaky voice,
No way? She’s deducing Euler formula?
Your math’s decent, aye? You know it?
the president asked, smiling.
I learned it when I was young and gained interest later on. It’s all self-taught, of course, nothing deep,
I explained.
Will you go out first, Xiaoyu?
the president requested.
The little girl nodded and exited the room, but not before pulling a funny face at me.
The president wheeled over to my side with some effort.
He closed the door and continued,
She’s a little impolite, doesn’t do things like closing the door and so on. It pisses me off sometimes, but she’ll probably be okay when she grows up.
It’s no problem, President,
I responded, thinking back to the bus window that the girl left open as well.
You’re the new volunteer?
he asked.
Yeah.
I nodded.
