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It took an unusual amount of time before Bao Rongxing could write his name properly. It was an issue that kept being brought up at random times, and by nearly everyone he knew. His parents, his teachers, his friends, his classmates… everyone seemed to care so much about it.
The thing was, it’s not that he didn’t know how to write his name, it’s just that he didn’t see the point of doing so. Everyone called him Baozi anyway, and he liked that much better. Bao Rongxing didn’t mean anything to him. The only people who used that name were teachers, and they were always, always mad at him.
Besides, he didn’t even know what Rongxing meant. His parents kept saying it was a good, auspicious name. Rong for honor and xing for eagerness, and both characters used in different ways can mean prosperity. It sounded nice, sure, but Baozi didn’t really understand what it all meant, and he didn’t care about it enough to figure it out.
Baozi was already a good name. A great name, even. Baozis were cute, useful, and came in many flavors. They were warm and comforting for people who were hungry or sad. If you needed a baozi you could get one from nearly anywhere.
He didn’t know why everyone kept wanting him to be that other complicated thing, when all he wanted to be was already fully encompassed by the name “Baozi.”
So he signed his name as “Baozi” on his schoolwork until he was ten years old.
Baozi. A simple name for a simple person. That was what all of his friends and even some of his teachers used to say. He knew it wasn’t a compliment. He knew he didn’t think like other people did, and that everyone thought he was stupid because of it. But what was so bad about thinking differently, thinking simply? He didn’t think there was anything wrong with that at all, despite what everyone said about him.
Unfortunately, even Baozi was sometimes affected by other people’s opinions. It was alright when it was just strangers he’d met once or twice, but he wouldn’t be human if he didn’t get hurt when it was people close to him that called him stupid.
Some of the worst and most formative moments of Baozi’s life came when he was twelve. He was too loud, too awkward, too lanky, and had just entered junior middle school. In short, he was the perfect target for bullies. It wasn’t surprising that after a few months of never-ending jeers and disdain from what felt like the entire school, he finally broke when one particularly cruel upperclassman led an extended taunting session against him.
Baozi went home in tears that cold day in January, and begged to not be sent to school the next day. His parents were sympathetic. Baozi was never the kind of child that hid his thoughts or worries, and they both knew how much trouble he was having in his new school. But, when the next week rolled around and Baozi still stubbornly refused to leave the house, they finally had to put their foot down.
After five school days of Baozi refusing to leave home, his mom finally tried to coax him out.
“Baozi,” his mother said in her most soothing voice, “you have to come out sometime.”
“No,” Baozi answered, pushing his bed against the door.
Baozi heard his mother sit outside his door, but refused to budge on his decision. This new school wasn’t like his old one, where friends were friends and the others didn’t matter. Here, people pretended to be friends, but they were actually bad people. Baozi knew he understood things differently, but his mother always told him that it didn’t matter, that he could always just work hard, take his time, and catch up. If his mother said so, then it must be true, so he just couldn’t understand why no one in the new school seemed to know this.
“You know,” his mother said after a few minutes of their silent standoff. “I bet the person who was really mean to you was a Taurus,” she said, matter of factly.
“...Why?” Baozi asked.
“Because they’re very incompatible with Aquarius, you know. They’re stubborn, and don’t like change, and can have really bad tempers. It’s just not a good match for Aquarius, who like to try new things.”
“Really?”
“Yes. So it wasn’t really about you, Baozi. That’s just the way he is, and it’s not a good match for how you are.”
“So I shouldn’t try to be friends with Taurus?”
There was a long pause on the other side of the door, a sigh, and the sound of someone else sitting beside his mom.
“It’s ok to try, Baozi. If they’re good, then even if they don’t naturally get along with you, it’ll be okay, because the two of you can work hard to get along,” Baozi’s dad says. “It’s just that, whoever was mean to you only worked hard to keep the bad things about being a Taurus, and none of the good things. You should look for friends who also work hard to strengthen the good bits about themselves.”
Baozi went back to school the next day, invincible in the knowledge that there was nothing wrong with him, and that some people just weren’t compatible with his way of thinking.
He started to grow into himself after that. His parents probably didn’t mean for him to take what they said that night so seriously, but he did, and it worked for him, so in the end they figured it was fine, even if Baozi did end up being a little too enthusiastic about zodiac signs from then on.
Baozi grew up to be quite a cheerful, athletic, and handsome man, much to his parents’ relief. Sure, he still didn’t really have friends, but it was hard to bully someone when they were around 10 centimeters taller and 10 kilograms heavier than you.
To be honest, neither parent really thought that anything would ever change for their son. They loved him so, so much, but they knew more than anyone else that Baozi had the type of personality that people only liked being exposed to in moderation.
It was a relief when Baozi found work as security in an internet café. He was basically the dream security guard for any small businessman. Baozi was strong, physically imposing, but had a cheerful air about him that didn’t scare customers away. He was chatty, but didn’t gossip, and was very loyal and obedient. Most importantly, being a security guard meant that Baozi didn’t need to talk to anyone for extended periods of time, thus masking his greatest failing: his sheer strangeness.
So, it came as a great surprise to everyone when Baozi announced one day that he was moving away to join a new Glory professional team.
The internet café regulars were baffled. They knew Baozi was good at games, but not that good, and Glory required a lot of thinking, which everyone agreed wasn’t Baozi’s strong point. The café owner was stressed. He’d found a perfect employee in Baozi, and didn’t know how he’d be able to find someone even half as loyal and uncomplaining. And Baozi’s parents? They were beyond worried. Here, Baozi had his parents, a steady job, and friends in the internet café. Why should he uproot himself for something as nebulous as a career in esports?
Baozi’s parents didn’t understand anything about esports, but the one thing they were sure of was that the world wasn’t kind to people like Baozi, and they had no idea what kind of people were in his new team. What if they just got impressed by Baozi’s playing, but were completely put off by Baozi’s personality when he moved there?
But, when they sat Baozi down and tried to convince him to stay, they quickly realized something.
“Boss?” Baozi’s mom asked, baffled. “Wait. Why would Mr. Wang ask you to go to Hangzhou? I thought he wanted you to stay here?”
“Huh? OH! Boss isn’t Mr. Wang! I met Boss in the game!” Baozi answered.
“And this Soft Mist? Chasing Haze? All of these people? They’re not from the internet café?” She asked.
“No. They’re all my friends in the game.”
Both Baozi’s parents fell silent. For the past few months, Baozi had been telling them about all of these new friends of his, and each time he talked about them he was so happy. They’d thought he’d finally met friends at work who could be patient and love him like they did. Being faced with the realization that these people weren’t from the internet café, but were the people Baozi was leaving them for made them feel very conflicted.
On one hand, at least they knew Baozi was going to friends. On the other, this made the stakes much higher. What if these people decided they didn’t like Baozi after all, and sent him back? What if that became the final straw that snuffed out Baozi’s brightness after all these years?
“Are you sure about this?” Baozi’s mother asked, interrupting him on one of his tangents.
Baozi blinked at her, surprised. His mother had never interrupted him before. Was she that worried?
“Of course!” Baozi said, with his best, brightest smile. “Don’t worry, mom, dad, this is fate! Bao Rongxing is about to play Glory, Rongyao, with a team called Happy, Xingxin!”
It was a stupid reason. Baozi’s parents knew this. And yet, somehow, they felt reassured. Neither of them subscribed to fate or star signs or all the other things Baozi ended up believing in, but maybe, just maybe, it was going to be alright. Maybe, for once, they should believe in their son and all he could achieve, instead of fearing the world for him.
So they sent him off with smiles instead of censure, and, when Team Happy won the championships, they were right there in the audience, cheering on their son that nobody back home believed in.