Once We Lived in Nanjing

The next day, the once notorious "Iron Triangle" of idlers from Southern Jiangsu, who annoyed both man and dog in Nanjing, gathered again (actually, they met every week) in room 804 of building 11 in Meihua Villa, Zhongqin Garden. It felt as if young heroes were reuniting after many years, looking back on a life like billowing waves over a thousand miles of rivers and lakes. Some people are born to change the world, like exterminating spicy crayfish from street stalls or haggling fiercely to shave a couple of yuan from the earnings of a food stand owner. Amid the clinking of glasses, the greasy glow shivered with the layers of fat on beer bellies—a wave of fantasy unique to middle-aged men.

"Mom, Dad, I'm back." Bai Yang finished today's exam and walked in, changing his shoes at the entryway. He immediately recognized the people sitting in the living room, "Uncle Zhao, Uncle Wang!"

That shiny bald head must be Uncle Wang.

And those tortoiseshell glasses surely belonged to Uncle Zhao.

Wang Ning, Zhao Bowen, and Dad were chatting on the living room sofa, while Mom was cooking in the kitchen.

"Recently, there's not much going on, just a big astronomy project involving multiple countries, targeting the massive black hole at the center of the Milky Way Galaxy... Oh, Yangyang's back!" Zhao Bowen looked up, "You had your monthly exam today, right? How did it go?"

"Not bad, at least I finished the English essay," Bai Yang said as he took off his backpack and held it in his hand.

"Young Yang, take us to check out your 'Icon725'." Wang Ning stood up, "Let's see what the fuss is about."

Dad and Zhao Bowen also stood up, the Iron Triangle had gathered here because of that Icon725.

"Sure," Bai Yang nodded, "It's in my room."

Last night, Bai Yang woke his father from his sleep.

Clearly, his father didn't buy the story his son was telling... What's wrong with you, waking me up in the middle of the night just to spin yarns at me?

Although he was groggy, he was still sharp-witted.

Bai Yang said it didn't matter if he didn't believe it, anyhow, he couldn't do anything about it. Just call Uncle Wang and Uncle Zhao to come over, if they believe it that would be enough.

The next day Dad called the two old brothers, as Bai Yang stressed it was an emergency and they must arrive as soon as possible, so Wang Ning and Zhao Bowen came together that afternoon. But clearly, they didn't buy Bai Zhen's story either. What's your problem, Bai Zhen, summoning us in such a hurry just to come up with tall tales?

Bai Zhen was helpless, it wasn't him who wanted to spin yarns, it was his son.

Bai Yang put his backpack down, sat on the chair, and skillfully powered on the radio; the pale yellow LCD lit up.

The three grown men squeezed into the room, standing behind him.

Wang Ning glanced at the desk, "What year is it already, how come it's still so primitive, Yang, why don't you use FT8?"

"My mom does not usually let me use the computer," Bai Yang muttered.

"14255, right?" asked Wang Ning, "What's the power output?"

"5W."

"5W for shortwave DX?" Wang Ning clicked his tongue, "Young Yang, you like playing with QRP?"

"I don't dare turn it up high," Bai Yang said weakly. "I don't even have a license yet, you think I don't want a hundred-watt loudspeaker?"

"Look at this, Bai Zhen, what are you doing? Where's your responsibility as a guardian?"

"Go on, stop talking nonsense."

"With the electromagnetic environment around Qinhuai District nowadays, can you still play with shortwave DX?" Zhao Bowen asked, "I haven't touched this stuff in many years. Back when we were young, the signal was better, sometimes reaching XY and VK. Is it still okay now?"

"We used to reach P5 too."

"P5? Where's that?"

"North Korea."

"When we were young, that was twenty years ago, it's not possible nowadays." Wang Ning shook his head, "Sitting at the no-committee I can't even hear what this Icon725 is saying, the electromagnetic environment is terrible."

The three oldies got chatting amongst themselves.

"What's the call sign of the other station?" Wang Ning asked.

"BG4MSR," Dad answered.

"Have you ever heard this call sign?" Zhao Bowen asked, "Is there such a person?"

"No." Wang Ning shook his head, "This is a bit strange. A while ago, Old Bai also asked me about this call sign. Old Bai said that Little Yang hooked up with a girl on the shortwave radio, and they were chatting away, all lovey-dovey, whispering sweet nothings..."

"There was no chatting away! No lovey-dovey! No whispering sweet nothings!" Bai Yang, who was listening on the channel, irritatedly took off his headphones and turned his head to correct them, his face reddening with anger.

He glared fiercely at his dad.

With his dad's thick skin, of course, he remained unfazed.

"Alright, alright, no chatting away, no lovey-dovey, no whispering sweet nothings. Your relationship is a pure and noble revolutionary friendship," Wang Ning continued. "Because when Old Bai mentioned this, he was drinking with me..."

"Drinking what?" Mom ghostly peeked out from behind the door without a sound.

The room's temperature suddenly dropped by eight degrees.

The three men tensed up all at once, holding their breath.

"Drinking... tea," said Wang Ning.

Mom swept her stern gaze over the three men, then disappeared behind the door, leaving behind a cold snort.

The three men immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

"How come Xiao Wen walks without making a sound?" Wang Ning asked in a low voice, "Isn't that freaking scary?"

"You know it," Old Bai said quietly. "I live in a ghost movie every day."

"Let's get back to the matter at hand. What happened next?" asked Zhao Bowen.

"We were drinking tea, and I thought Old Bai drank a bit too much, with the tea polyphenols going to his head, so I didn't take it seriously at the time. Later, when I was on duty at the commission, I casually listened in. On 14255, I could only hear Little Yang's voice, he was the only one on the entire channel, and I could still recognize his voice," Wang Ning continued. "But the signal was so weak, I never heard clearly what he was saying."

"What about BG4MSR?" asked Zhao Bowen.

"There's no such person," Wang Ning said.

"That's what I found odd too. Initially, I didn't believe it, but I couldn't explain why the commission couldn't pick up the signal," Bai Yang turned around, hanging the headphones around his neck, "The last time I ran into Uncle Wang, he said I was talking to myself on the channel, but I was clearly communicating with BG4MSR."

"Is it encrypted?" Zhao Bowen asked.

"Impossible," Wang Ning and Bai Zhen shook their heads together.

"How sensitive is the commission's monitoring?" Zhao Bowen asked.

"Full coverage of all bands across the city," Wang Ning replied. "Unless you're on an encrypted military channel, there's no way it can't be heard."

"How bizarre," Zhao Bowen also felt it was strange, "What is this, some new technology? Or some kind of electromagnetic magic?"

As a professor of physics, Zhao Bowen couldn't believe in stories of time travel. His first thought was some new technology, or a clever trick, that could allow a signal to bypass the commission's monitoring, yet still be picked up by an old Icom725... Zhao Bowen leaned forward to look, searching for a hidden optical fiber under the radio.

"Professor, what's your expert opinion?" Bai Zhen asked.

"I won't jump to any conclusions. Seeing is believing, hearing is deceiving. Let's see for ourselves. Regardless of whether Yangyang's story is true, we need to find out what's actually going on. Tonight, let Yangyang try to connect with BG4MSR again. If the connection is made, then we need to first figure out where this signal is coming from. If we can trace it back to its source, the truth will be revealed," Zhao Bowen said. "Yangyang, what time do you usually connect with her?"

"After ten o'clock at night."

The three men simultaneously took out their phones from their pockets and glanced at the time.

It was now 8:45 pm.

"Old Wang, do you have a spectrum analyzer over there?"

"Yes," Old Wang nodded, "I'll have the commission bring one over."

As he said that, he took out his phone and dialed:

"Hello? Xiao Zhu? Ah yes, it's me, it's me. Could you do me a favor... Yes, bring a spectrum analyzer over here, the big one on the shelf next to my desk, the white one, yes, yes, deliver it to Meihua Villa, on Muxuyuan Street, alright, thanks!"

Old Wang is the kind of unscrupulous leader who arranges tasks for people over the phone after eight in the evening.