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Translation - English His story was a huge secret to me. I kept it buried in my heart and never spoke of it to anyone, until my son turned fourteen.
In October 2014, my son Tu Dou and I moved to Shanghai, to a tiny rental apartment. We were preparing for him to enter a high school affiliated with the Shanghai Conservatory of Music the following year, in the spring.
This was a weighty decision for my son. At fourteen, he had set his heart on becoming a pianist. That meant more than just giving up the school he liked, with its familiar teachers and students, and leaving his hometown and his comfortable, normal life. It signified a turn away from a broad, well-paved Roman road, and a turn onto a bitter, thorny, narrow path in pursuit of the arts. It was a lonely choice.
The apartment in Shanghai was old and cramped. Other than a grand piano, it had barely any furniture in it at all. That, added to the fact that we were strangers in an unfamiliar city, quite naturally left us feeling miserable and adrift. Luckily, I was offered a translation project at that point, which I accepted without hesitation. I also made a strict plan for myself: I would translate 1500 words of the book every day, come hell or high water, and I would finish it within three months. In my experience, adjusting to a new place was always a matter of having something to do. Once I had that, I would be able to adapt quickly to the new environment, and shake off the feeling of being lost and helpless.
It was only when I’d hastily turned to the first page of the book that I realised that the protagonist a disabled ten-year-old boy. His name was August, but everyone called him “Auggie”. The book’s title was Wonder.