Excerpt from The Wedding Party by Liu Xinwu, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

When Xiangdong was in first grade, he was on his way home from school when he saw a ruffian stealing someone's hat. A high school student was walking down the sidewalk when out of nowhere a guy on a bicycle sped past, reached out, and grabbed his army-green cap. The high-schooler yelled after him, but the guy turned into an alleyway and was gone. This exhilarating scene left Xiangdong feeling the hat thief was very cool and made him treasure army-green objects even more.

When he was in fourth grade, society began changing all around him. Street thugs no longer stole army-green caps, and high school students gradually abandoned the fashion of dressing in army uniforms or caps. At some point, everyone had started wearing blue: blue shirts, blue trousers, and snow-white sports shoes—the very definition of stylish. In the winter, there was a fad for leather jackets—or "pleather," if they couldn't get hold of the real thing—and round woolen hats with ear flaps. Ruffians started stealing these woolen hats. The next winter, wool was out and shearling hats were in, so of course the thieves switched targets yet again. Fashions kept evolving, and now, the winter of 1982, windbreakers are the latest thing. No one aspires to join the army anymore. Anyone whose grades aren't completely hopeless wants to go to college. Those like Xiangdong, who didn't get into a key high school after he failed to get into a key middle school, those whose grades are going from bad to worse, are clearly not going to get into college, but they no longer dream of being soldiers either. They end up sitting at home waiting to get a job, their minds in a fog, with nothing to hold on to.

Xiangdong's parents haven't relaxed their strict discipline. His father despairs of the boy's poor grades and frequently rages at him, or worse, takes off a slipper and whacks Xiangdong. Inevitably, it takes his mom weeping, screaming, and holding him back before he'll stop. This lesson never takes hold, partly because he's teaching it all wrong, and partly because he doesn't understand this swiftly changing society himself, nor can he cope with it. He has a bellyful of torments and anxieties, which makes him say strange things in front of his son, although his son isn't allowed to talk back. When his son asks a question he can't answer, he takes his rage and confusion out on the boy. The theories he's spouting to his son have grown more and more abstract and out of date. That's the main reason Xiangdong is becoming harder to raise. He's learned to be a phony and only shows his parents what they want to see.

Although Xiangdong is not at a so-called key school, his teachers still work fairly hard. On one hand, they put a great deal of energy into supporting the few students who're actually interested in learning, helping them navigate the choppy seas of academe to surpass all expectations and get into college, thus vindicating themselves and bringing glory to the school, which may then be able to get coveted "key" status if it's able to produce enough such success stories. On the other hand, they try to keep "backward" students such as Xiangdong under control, so they don't cause too much disruption during school hours or get arrested after class. Education has never been a panacea, though, and perhaps these educators are a little too harsh in disciplining Xiangdong. He's learned to lie to them too.

Today, just before lunch, Xiangdong's mom noticed her son's windbreaker wasn't the acrylic one she'd bought him, but a padded cotton one—though the color and style were similar. "Where did you get that?" she asked.

"Swapped with a classmate," he said nonchalantly.

"How could you do that?" she lectured. "That's padded cotton, it must have cost half as much again as yours. If you ruin it, how will you pay your friend back? Isn't your acrylic one just as warm? Why do you need to be so fashionable?"

Xiangdong's father happened to walk into the room just then. Overhearing, he glanced at the windbreaker and flew into a rage. Xiangdong had already owned a padded jacket, made out of his father's old army coat. After wearing this over his blue duds for a while, he began clamoring for a new one. "Who's still wearing ragged old jackets like this?" he'd wheedled. "All my classmates have windbreakers!" His father had held his temper. It's certainly true that kids go around in windbreakers these days—it seems their parents have money to burn. Some even buy their children genuine leather coats. The Yaos are probably among the poorest of the parents—they both work for meager wages with no side jobs, and send their parents money each month. Xiangdong's elder sister graduated from teaching college and now works at a kindergarten. She isn't a Party member yet, so she only earns enough to support herself. Given their financial situation, when Xiangdong pestered his parents for a windbreaker, the best his mom could manage was an acrylic one. Rather than being content with that, he's now somehow managed to acquire a classmate's more expensive garment. Will he never be satisfied?

Excerpted from The Wedding Party by Liu Xinwu. Copyright © 2021 by Liu Xinwu. Excerpted by permission of AmazonCrossing. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.