#66: [Extra] The Brothers’ Names

Yan Qingming was born on the Qingming Festival. Yan Lao, in his quest for simplicity, didn’t bother flipping through a dictionary and simply named his grandson “Qingming.”

At that time, the Public Security Bureau hadn’t moved yet, and the first residential compound was still located in Dongshan. Yan Qingming’s family lived in Unit One.

A year later, Old Tang from Unit Three welcomed a son. Being a history enthusiast—though not particularly fond of historical figures but rather of dynasties—Old Tang had a particular affection for the Western Zhou and Eastern Zhou periods. Initially, he wanted to name his child “Zhou,” but later decided a two-character name might be too common. So, he settled on “Xizhou” (Western Zhou).

It was also around that time that the Public Security Bureau announced a reassignment of housing. They moved to Minggong Road, the third residential compound of the bureau, Unit Two.

Shortly after moving in, Captain Qin from the third floor celebrated the birth of a son. In a burst of romanticism, he gave his son the name “Qinyuan.”

However, Mrs. Qin found the name unappealing, fearing it sounded like “romantic fate” (qingyuan), which could lead to teasing at school. After some thought, Old Qin realized she had a point. Flipping through a dictionary, he discovered the character “Yuan” had an excellent meaning—it signified “first place” or “foremost.”

Captain Qin had spent years competing with Mrs. Yao Lan from downstairs over who was number one, always losing to her. Upon seeing this character, he felt it perfectly suited his ambitions. Thus, he changed “Yuan” from “fate” to “first.”

And just like that, Qin Yuan’s romantic destiny was cut off by his father.

Later, the Song family from the first floor also welcomed a son. They named him Song Lang—”bright and cheerful.” According to them, when Song Lang was born, his cries were so loud and robust that the family assumed he would grow up to be as outgoing as they were. Hence, the name stuck.

Song Lang truly lived up to his name—he was incredibly cheerful. His academic performance, however, left much to be desired. During primary school, on the day of the first exam, other children ran out of the school gates shouting excitedly, “Mom and Dad, I got a perfect score!” or “I got ninety-nine!”

When Song Lang emerged, he proudly yelled at the top of his lungs, “Mom and Dad, I got sixty-five points!!”

The other parents looked on in disbelief, but Mr. Song beamed with pride. “He passed! That’s impressive!”

In middle school, Song Lang once performed beyond expectations and miraculously ranked tenth from the bottom. Mr. and Mrs. Song were so thrilled they took him on vacation, leaving Tang Xizhou utterly envious.

Tang Xizhou wasn’t a poor student either—he simply suffered from severe subject bias. History, politics, and geography were hopeless for him, but math, physics, and chemistry came naturally; he could ace those subjects with his eyes closed. Despite consistently ranking within the top ten in his class, Tang’s parents never showed satisfaction. The reason? Living alongside Yan Qingming, an all-around genius, and Qin Yuan, who despite being a grade lower, consistently ranked among the top three in the entire grade, made Tang feel immense pressure.

Finally, along came Song Lang, a certified slacker. Yet, to everyone’s surprise, the Song family practiced contentment—just passing exams made them happy. It was almost unfair.

Later, Yao Lan and Chu Yang from the second floor, who had vowed to remain child-free, unexpectedly became pregnant. During nearly a year of depression, Yao Lan held onto the hope that their child would be a girl to console her wounded heart. But when the doctor announced, “Congratulations, it’s a boy!” both Yao Lan and Chu Yang broke down in tears, regretting their previous optimism.

The four boys of Unit Two cried along with them—not out of genuine sorrow, but mockingly: “We wanted a sister, not a brother!”

Among them, Tang Xizhou cried the hardest. Later, upon discovering that Chu Yao was also a prodigy who aced tests without studying, Tang wept even harder.

Speaking of Chu Yao’s name—it was clearly chosen haphazardly.

Chu Yang’s surname is Chu, while Yao Lan’s surname is Yao. Originally, the name was supposed to reflect this combination. However, Grandma couldn’t bear such casualness and scolded the couple before picking the character “Yao” (from Emperor Yao) and registering it officially.

To this day, whenever introducing himself, Chu Yao recounts the story: “Hello, my name is Chu Yao. My father’s surname is Chu, and my mother’s surname is Yao. Therefore, I’m Chu Yao. But note, ‘Yao’ isn’t the same as ‘Yao’ in female-related characters—it’s from Emperor Yao of ancient China.”

Later, the eastern unit of the second floor was occupied by Jiang Hai and Zhang Ling, transferred from the anti-drug squad. Under the chief’s care, they moved in across from the Chu family.

Four years later, they welcomed a daughter.

Jiang Hai, who fancied himself a northern wolf, named his daughter “Bei” (North).

A professor from Unit Three, known for his extensive knowledge, was deeply dissatisfied with the collective lack of seriousness in naming children in Unit Two.

“Just look at those kids’ names! Too casual!”

But eventually, realizing that the people of Unit Two were extraordinary individuals, the trivial matter of naming seemed insignificant.

During middle school, Jiang Beibei, bored during class, amused herself by writing down her brothers’ names. Suddenly, she noticed something—they were all related to dynasties.

Bored, she dissected their names and arranged them chronologically: “Yao… Western Zhou, Qin, Chu… Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, Qing.”

“...Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, Qing?” Jiang Beibei chuckled uncontrollably, failing to stifle her voice. She exclaimed, “Wow, turns out they planned these names together!”

She was promptly sent to stand in the hallway for half a class period as punishment.

During middle school, Jiang Beibei began showing signs of subject bias. She excelled in politics, history, and geography, consistently ranking first. However, her math skills were abysmal, and her physics and chemistry grades were equally disastrous. Consequently, Grandma hired a tutor to help her catch up.

One weekend, Chu Yao, then a freshman in college, returned home to find the tutor shockingly incompetent—unable to explain even a simple geometry problem. He suggested to Grandma that he could teach Jiang Beibei instead, despite his busy schedule.

At that moment, Yan Qingming, pursuing his graduate studies, happened to pass by. Hearing Chu Yao’s words, he shot him a horrified look.

“You have free time?”

Who was he kidding? Studying forensic science was akin to medical school—each semester’s textbooks were as thick as bricks, capable of exhausting anyone. How could he claim to have spare time?

Chu Yao calmly replied, “I can make time for Beibei.”

“You’d better think again,” Yan Qingming advised. “Let Yuan take over.”

By then, Qin Yuan, having already passed the bar exam, was relatively free. He happily accepted the task. As Qin lectured, Chu Yao sat nearby, engrossed in his own textbooks.

Occasionally, Tang Xizhou would drop by after training, peeking in on the second floor.

It was during this time that Jiang Beibei began to appreciate the aura of academic brilliance surrounding her brothers.

“How could you possibly get this multiple-choice question wrong?” Qin Yuan asked in astonishment.

“Hmm... Why choose this option?”

“I don’t know how to explain it to you,” Qin lamented. “The answer is obvious at a glance.”

“Don’t you need to calculate it?”

“No calculation needed.”

“Unbelievable.”

Qin covered the answer and turned to Tang Xizhou. “Second Brother, which option would you choose?”

Tang Xizhou, munching on an apple, glanced briefly and replied, “B.”

Jiang Beibei marveled, “Why?!”

Chu Yao stepped forward, read the question aloud, and explained, “The stem already tells you the answer. Everything else is just a distraction. Focus only on the first part.”

Jiang Beibei gaped, “Good grief! How are your brains wired?! Can’t you share some intelligence with me?!”

Years later, Jiang Beibei and Chu Yao discussed the potential IQ of their future children.

“If we have kids, preferably a girl.”

“Huh?”

“I read a science article... Boys inherit 100% of their intelligence from their mothers, no matter how smart the father is. Girls, on the other hand, average the intelligence of both parents. So, to make full use of your brilliant brain, let’s aim for a daughter.”

“...Let’s talk about this after we’ve passed the seven-year itch,” Chu Yao said. “Whatever happens, happens. You’re not dumb either.”

Jiang Beibei recalled her desperate struggle with math during the college entrance exam and transformed her frustration into motivation to sleep next to Chu Yao. She declared, “Thank you very much, but I’d like to become even smarter. Let me experience your wisdom once more!”

Chu Yao sighed, “Another word lost its innocence.”