Beijing Lights: I Couldn’t Bear a Second Broken Heart

This post is part of an ongoing series by the Spittoon Collective that aims to share some of the voices that make up Beijing’s 21.7 million humans. They ask: Who are these people we pass in the street every day? Who lives behind those endless walls of apartment windows? These interviews take a small, but meaningful look.

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After talking to Ma Changyou, our previous article’s protagonist, I returned to Beijing Station in the hope to learn more about those like Ma who stay overnight at the station. Unlike the others, Zhang Li chose to stay late just to kill some time. He told me that he wanted to find people to chat with, and a busy train station is the best place to look.

Soon after we finished our conversation, the clock in front of Beijing Station struck 11pm. Zhang soon merged back into the busy crowd, expecting to meet his next conversation partner.

Zhang Li, Male, 38 years old, from Heilongjiang, canteen worker

I have lived in Beijing for seven years, and the place I go to most often is KFC. Sometimes I stay there until one or two in the morning.

I set up a sleeping mat at our company’s office. It’s not home, just a simple place to sleep. But I’d rather be outside, wandering around like this. Inside there, there’s nothing but my little mat. I’m all alone. I like to be in places with other people, places where I can feel alive. I like to see people coming and going. I feel safe when I’m surrounded by a crowd.

I work at a company canteen from 7am to 3pm, then I sell packaged fruit inside another office building nearby. After work, I’ll roam around a bit, visiting train stations, night markets – wherever there are crowds. I usually start conversations with whoever looks friendly. Sometimes, if I get lucky, I meet someone else from Heilongjiang. Anytime I get to speak a few sentences in my home dialect, I’m pretty happy.

I grew up in a small village, where my childhood days were golden. I knew so little about life and the world, and didn’t think much about it either. All I did was hang out with my friends. We’d run and play all over the village, and sometimes spend a whole day skating on the frozen river. In the northeast, the rivers freeze early and melt late, giving us a full season of winter fun. My dad was a blacksmith and he forged me a pair of ice-skating blades. With them, I was the best skater in the group. I could hear the wind whipping by my ears.

My dad’s job made me proud. He started as an apprentice at 15. He could make everything – hammers, hoes, knives, axes, ornaments. For a while he worked in a production brigade, then after the brigades were disbanded, he biked through the neighboring villages to provide his services. Back then craftsmanship earned you a lot of respect. He made his name “Blacksmith Zhang” well known in the neighborhood.

By hitting the iron tirelessly, he managed to support the whole family. Many local villagers didn’t have enough food to eat, most could only afford to eat wowotou (steamed corn buns). Only my family could afford wheat bread. We even had spare money to buy vegetables.

As the youngest child, I was my dad’s favorite. He doted on me and didn’t allow me to learn steelmaking as he did. He said it was too hard on the body. They burned coals to heat the iron, which created a lot of smoke. After a long time working in the smoke, my dad’s health collapsed. He became seriously ill in his mid-forties.

I remember well the day he passed away. Our whole family sat around his bed. I held his hand and watched him exhale his last breath. I had just turned 15 that year.

After my father’s death, my mom sold our house and took my elder brother, my elder sister, and me to join her brother in Changhai county in Dalian. Changhai is a small island city. You could only get there by boat. My mom is illiterate and she’s never been away from home by herself. She never remarried and has lived with my brother on the island ever since.

I stopped attending school and followed my uncle at the fishery. I have worked many different jobs since then – selling seafood, driving cargo, mending houses. I’ve tried everything.

When I was 19, I got into a relationship with a girl who was two years older. I quite liked her. She wasn’t fake and knew how to work hard. But like most women from northwest China, she had a quick temper.

One weekend, she was off work and asked me to come over to her place. I got very busy with a construction job that day and didn’t show up until late at night. She flew into a rage. She asked me to give her RMB 500, then tore up the money into small pieces right in front of me. Back in the ’90s, a half kilogram of pork only cost a few RMB. It was RMB 500 that she ruined. I’m not kidding when I say she has a quick temper.

After that, she broke up with me. We had been together for two years. I didn’t want to let her go. That really broke my heart. I was shedding tears almost every night. But nothing could convince her to take me back.

Ever since then, I haven’t felt ready for another relationship. I’m afraid that if things don’t work out, I couldn’t bear to have my heart broken a second time.

Time never waits for anyone. Next thing you know I’m already approaching 40. It’s more difficult to date someone at this age. I can’t help feeling envy when I see couples who have each other as company.

I don’t smoke or drink alcohol. I save up most of the money I make, in the hope that I can take my future wife back home and start a small business. We can open up a shop selling seafood. I always picture us enjoying our life together in peace and stability. That’s all I want. If I can spend the rest of my life like that, I’d call it a good life.

With so many people coming and going, I believe I will be able to meet her one day. Since I often walk around in crowded places, I think it’s more likely that I will meet her sooner.

Whenever I feel tired, I go to the closest KFC to take a nap. Sometimes, half asleep and half awake, I suddenly think of the skating blades my dad made for me. More often, I think of my ex-girlfriend of two years. I can’t help thinking that things might be different if I had come to her earlier that day instead of caring so much about earning a few extra dollars. I heard that she got married a long time ago to a Shandong man who is taller than me. I heard that they have a good life together, that they really do love each other.

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