The First Fifth of My Life

I’m not originally from Mianyang.

But I’ve lived in Mianyang much longer than in my hometown.

This has led to a strange situation: when I say I’m from Jiangxi, people point out I’ve lived in Sichuan forever; when I say I’m from Sichuan, they note my household registration is in Jiangxi.

But what’s done is done—I can only live with it.

Looking back, I realize the first fifth of my life has been rather miserable.

Kindergarten: halfway through, I transferred schools.

Elementary school: bullied by others.

Junior high: no friends. High school: grades crushed by others.

I initially attended kindergarten with my best friend, but transferred midway through the second year. As a new student, I had no friends.

After all, how could a tight-knit group accept an outsider?

I still remember being ostracized by a group of girls led by Wang Yongyi—funnily enough, I was the only boy in this scenario.

😅

Kindergarten eventually ended, and elementary school arrived. I was thrilled to be reunited with my best friend, but… why did he have so many friends?

Why was I being isolated again?

I had no idea.

But I clearly remember one incident: our English teacher was doing some activity—I forget exactly what—when he tripped while walking down from the podium.

His forehead hit the sharp edge of a desk. There was probably a lot of blood—why “probably”? Because I was too scared to look. I was covering my eyes, crying.

Strangely, I blamed a girl for the accident. So when she came over to comfort me (maybe?), I yelled at her—and thus became even more isolated.

It’s fair to say I lived in his shadow. Whenever I got beaten up, bullied, or isolated, only his words carried weight.

Over time, I developed a dependency on him—because my parents constantly compared me to him.

I once thought good grades would earn me friends. So while others played, I studied; while others socialized, I read books. My grades improved, but I still had no friends.

It wasn’t until fourth grade, when my tech skills started to stand out, that they gradually began interacting with me.

But I still didn’t have real friends.

Later, I realized they only talked to me because they needed something from me.

I’ve been bad at math since childhood. Probably because whenever I couldn’t solve a problem, I’d ask my dad—only to get beaten for it.

I still remember in second grade, when he tried to teach me systems of linear equations. When I couldn’t understand, he hit me.

Coupled with my junior high math teacher’s “helpful” contribution, my math skills were officially ruined.

Then came junior high.

That’s when I discovered my PE was disastrous (I scored 38 points).

My grades weren’t great at first, but at least they showed improvement.

Math remained terrible, of course. And I still had no friends.

Tech skills remained my strong suit. In eighth grade, I won first place in a city-level competition (in elementary, I’d gotten second in a district competition and second in a city competition). But I didn’t pursue competitive programming because our school didn’t offer it—public schools rarely do.

Third grade was stressful because of high school applications. I originally thought I could only get into Nanshan High, but realized I might actually have a shot at Mianyang High. So I applied there—not because both schools offered me special admission (Mianyang’s offer held more weight anyway).

The night results came out, I stared at the score-checking website with my information already filled in. The fear of failure is unforgettable. Luckily, I got in. In that moment, I truly understood what “crying tears of joy” meant.

High school has been half glorious, half dismal.

There’s a saying in basic classes that rings true:

Freshmen year—everyone’s similar. Sophomore year—clear divide. Junior year—worlds apart.

First semester of freshman year, I missed the top tier (A0) by a few points. Midterms: wait, how did I drop to 1300th place?

Finals: wait, what???

1600th?

It got worse: first month of second semester, 2000th place shattered my dreams.

I never expected to struggle this much in high school.

Thankfully, by the end of that semester, I pulled myself together and finally made it into A0.

Enough about the dark times—let’s talk about the bright spots.

Life is made of countless coincidences.

If I hadn’t met Boen, I would never have joined Mianyang High’s Minecraft Club, never joined the school’s media team, never become the seemingly successful person I am today.

I was in charge of live-streaming the sports meet, edited school news, and created the montage for our class presentation.

It was tiring, but somehow worth it.

But… I think I’m getting too tired.

Too tired.

Too… tired.

This article, I believe, serves as an epitaph for my past.

I know I’m a nostalgic person.

But the past is gone, and past glories remain in the past.

So let the person I was enjoy those former triumphs.

The “me” of the past has died in memory.

Farewell, Shao Hu Luo Bing; hello, Yi~~ Xi~~ Wei Guang.