My IQ Increases Year by Year

On the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, sunlight slanted through the bare branches of the parasol trees in the staff housing courtyard, landing on the glass of the balcony window.

The heating in the apartment was more than ample, and a thin layer of white fog had condensed on the glass.

Chen Jianguo stood by the living room wall, a damp rag in hand, repeatedly wiping down a brand-new, double-door refrigerator.

The new refrigerator was massive, taking up almost an entire corner of the living room.

To make room for this behemoth, just yesterday Chen Jianguo had hauled the old wooden chest of drawers, which they’d had for over a decade, out onto the balcony.

"Dad, you’ve already wiped that panel four times today."

Chen Zhuo sat on the sofa in the middle of the living room, slowly peeling a tangerine.

"You don’t get it."

Chen Jianguo straightened up and took two steps back to admire the fruits of his labor, his face filled with unconcealable pride.

"This has a brushed metal finish. If you don’t wipe it often, it’ll get covered in fingerprints. And look at this capacity! The cooling power! I just plugged it in, and the freezer was already frosting over in half an hour."

As he spoke, Chen Jianguo reached out and pulled open the refrigerator door on the right.

A plume of white, cold air billowed out and sank toward the floor.

The refrigerator was stuffed to the brim.

The top shelf held a large basin of dry-fried hairtail fish that Liu Xiuying had just made yesterday. The two middle shelves were filled with washed celery, yellow garlic chives, a few bunches of vibrant green spinach, and two bowls overflowing with pork ribs. The compartments on the door were crammed with eggs and a few bottles of Big White Pear soda.

"With all this space, your mom won’t have to hang the New Year’s meat outside the window to freeze anymore."

Chen Jianguo remarked with a sigh, reaching out to stroke one of the crisper drawers.

BANG.

The kitchen door was pushed open a crack. Liu Xiuying, wearing a slightly faded floral apron and holding a greasy spatula, leaned out.

"Chen Jianguo, if you leave that refrigerator door open and let all the cold air out, you can pay next month’s electric bill with your cigarette money!"

Liu Xiuying’s voice rose.

Startled, Chen Jianguo quickly pushed the refrigerator door until it was sealed shut.

"I was just checking the cooling!"

Chen Jianguo grumbled, draping the rag over a nearby chair.

"What’s there to check? Can’t you see I’m busy? Get in here and peel these two heads of garlic."

Liu Xiuying ordered irritably.

"Coming, coming."

Chen Jianguo called back and headed into the kitchen.

Soon, the crisp CLANG of a spatula against an iron wok and the SIZZLE of hot oil came from the kitchen.

Chen Zhuo popped the peeled tangerine into his mouth. ’Ah, this is the life.’

"Xiaozhuo!"

Liu Xiuying’s voice came from the kitchen again, this time calling for him.

"Here."

Chen Zhuo swallowed the tangerine and answered.

The kitchen door swung wide open, and Liu Xiuying walked out carrying a small porcelain bowl. It was half-full of a light-colored sauce.

"We’re out of dark soy sauce."

Liu Xiuying frowned, looking at the bowl in her hand.

"This light soy sauce won’t give it any color. I have to make a pot of red-braised beef this afternoon, and if the color is all pale, it’ll look completely unappetizing."

Chen Zhuo pulled out a tissue and wiped his hands.

"Actually, light soy sauce has a higher amino acid nitrogen content than dark soy sauce. From the perspective of extracting umami flavor from the protein, light soy sauce is sufficient."

Chen Zhuo said cautiously from the sofa.

Liu Xiuying shot him a glare.

"It’s New Year’s! Who eats beef for the ’nitrogen content’? If red-braised meat isn’t red, can you even call it red-braised?"

Liu Xiuying set the porcelain bowl on the dining table and turned to rummage around in her apron pocket.

She fished out a crumpled two-yuan bill and two ten-fen coins. She walked over to the sofa and pressed them into Chen Zhuo’s hand.

"Go downstairs to Old Li’s little shop at the mouth of the alley and buy a bottle of Haitian brand dark soy sauce. Remember, get the kind that’s naturally brewed from soybeans, not the formulated kind."

Liu Xiuying urged.

"Hurry up. The oil in the wok is still hot. By the time you get back, it’ll be perfect for caramelizing the sugar."

Chen Zhuo looked down at the two yuan and twenty fen in his palm.

’Just a few days ago, I was in a lab hundreds of kilometers away, dealing with tens of millions in project funding and screens full of low-level computing data. Back then, Professor Li Jianming was holding my hand, trying to convince me to stay in the Ivory Tower and crack a world-class mathematical conjecture.’

’And now, I’m a twelve-year-old boy being sent out by my mother to buy soy sauce.’

"Alright."

Chen Zhuo clutched the money in his palm and stood up.

He pushed open the security door, and a gust of cold air carrying the mixed aromas of cooking from every household rushed in from the stairwell.

Granny Zhang from the third floor was frying hairtail fish in the stairwell. Her gas stove was set up right outside her door. In the wok of boiling oil, batter-coated pieces of fish tumbled about, releasing an enticing aroma.

Chen Zhuo headed down the stairs.

"Oh, Xiaozhuo."

Holding a pair of long chopsticks, Granny Zhang turned and smiled when she saw Chen Zhuo.

"Hello, Grandma Zhang."

"Happy New Year, happy New Year! Where are you off to on New Year’s Eve?"

Chen Zhuo stopped to greet her and pointed downstairs.

"My mom’s stewing meat and is waiting for dark soy sauce to add color. I have to run to the little shop at the mouth of the alley to get a bottle."

​Granny Zhang chuckled, the hot oil in her wok SIZZLING away.

​"Well now, our housing complex’s own top scholar, our great scientist, still has to run errands and buy soy sauce on New Year’s Eve?"

​Granny Zhang looked Chen Zhuo up and down, her tone filled with the unique mix of fondness and envy that elders often have.

​"I heard from your dad that once you graduate and get a job assignment, you’ll have a secure ’iron rice bowl’ from the state."

In her mind, going to university meant escaping this housing complex and securing an "iron rice bowl."