He also had no skills.
He couldn’t do anything, it seemed.
He was flunking math class.
And social security class.
And nephrology class.
And study hall.
He was even flunking a physical education class and he wasn’t even taking it.
Depressed, at the point of considering throwing himself off of the Hangzhou Bay Bridge, Aiqing decided to get something to eat. But he had no money. He asked his brother if he could borrow some, but his brother was starting to realize Aiqing might just end up as a good-for-nothing, so it was wise to not lend him money from the beginning. Aiqing explained that he had to eat. His brother told him to cook. Aiqing said he didn’t know how to. Aiqing’s brother said to make some soup, that anyone can make soup, even people who don’t know how to cook. Aiqing said he had no ingredients. His brother said to make some soup then, that you could make soup out of anything that happened to be in a cupboard. Aiqing said he had nothing in his cupboard. Aiqing’s brother said that he had some noodles in his cupboard. He told Aiqing he could have those. Is that it, Aiqing asked. Aiqing’s brother said he had his happiness. Aiqing could take some of his happiness. Happiness and noodles are enough for a soup, Aiqing’s brother said.
So Aiqing took the noodles and he took the happiness and he boiled some water and made a soup—happiness soup, he called it.
He gave some to his brother, afraid to eat it himself. He figured if he gave it to his brother and his brother keeled over, he would know not to eat the happiness soup.
Aiqing’s brother was hungry, so he dipped his chopstick in the happiness soup, then put the chopstick in his mouth, wincing.
Aiqing studied his brother. He wanted to see if death was going to creep into his eyes. But instead of death, Aiqing’s brother’s face looked like he had just stepped into a field of mangoes. Magical mangoes. Magical mangoes that gave massages and made you feel like you had become light as vanishing.
The old man smiled his teeth a jagged row of garlicky smelling roots. “Here you work for me twelve hours a day, six days a week. When is this that you have time to practice? Why is it that you worry at all?”
Aiqing’s brother quickly drank the whole bowl in one gulp. Aiqing’s brother went to the wok that Aiqing had made the soup and held it to his lips, pouring whatever remnants were left into his throat.
You must make more, Aiqing’s brother said.
There aren’t any noodles left, Aiqing said.
Aiqing’s brother rushed out of the door to buy more noodles.
Aiqing stood there, wondering if his brother had gone insane, if it were a prank.
He knocked on the neighbor’s door. He explained to his neighbor Huái Yí Zhe that his brother had gone mad and ate all the soup. He hoped the neighbor might lend him some happiness and some noodles so that he could try to eat the happiness soup himself this time. Huái Yí Zhe was unsure, but the story was too intriguing to say no. He also had some noodles and some happiness to spare so he gave them to Aiqing. Aiqing made the happiness soup again. He went to put the happiness soup to his lips, but this time Huái Yí Zhe tapped his cane on the floor and said the owner of the home should eat first. Aiqing agreed and handed him the chopsticks. Huái Yí Zhe took out a scoop of noodles and bit in. This time the reaction was quicker. Huái Yí Zhe looked as if lightning had struck his libido. He looked like a shadow that had found out he had just become a real live boy. He looked like a blade of grass finding out it was going to get accepted into Heaven. Huái Yí Zhe downed the rest of the bowl in a few seconds, rattled his cane over to the stove and licked the pot clean and demanded Aiqing make more.
Aiqing was convinced the world was mad.

He walked out of the home quickly. Huái Yí Zhe tried to follow, but Aiqing was too fast. Aiqing got away and found himself in the middle of the street, not knowing where to go or what to do.
Aiqing had no friends.
He tried to think of someone who might be neutral with him, someone who at least didn’t hate him or think he was stupid. There was a girl he had a crush on at the school. He had been so shy with her that he always avoided her, doing everything he could to stay away. Looking at her was too much; the pangs of love hurt. So she knew nothing about him, didn’t know he was flunking every course that semester, didn’t know about the soup.
The soup! he thought.
“Aiqing started to Ai’s house. He was not sure how he would convince her. He knocked and Ai’s mother answered. Aiqing asked if he could make supper for them, that he had a new happiness soup recipe and he wanted to make the soup for Ai and her family. Ai’s mother closed the door in his face. Aiqing knew he would do whatever was necessary to make Ai the soup. He knocked again. The mother came to the door. “If you don’t like the happiness soup”, Aiqing said, “I will promise to take care of any household chore you would like for the next seven months. I will be your servant”, Aiqing said, “if you do not like the happiness soup.”
Ai came to the door, peeking from behind her mother.
“He is a boy from my school,” Ai said.
“You know me?”
Ai nodded.
“Can I make you happiness soup?” Aiqing asked.
Ai’s mother looked to Ai and she nodded. Ai’s mother stepped to the side and Aiqing walked in the door.
Seven days later Ai and Aiqing were married.
Thirteen days later Aiqing was named the new Mayor of the city.
Twelve days later Aiqing was given a Michelin Award and announced the best chef in China.
Two days later the line outside to get into his restaurant was rumored to be over three kilometers long.
Nine days later Aiqing was kidnapped by Tongs, members of the Chinese mafia, who insisted he cook them happiness soup and they would let them live. But the Tongs members did not have enough happiness for the soup, so they threatened Aiqing that they would cut off his fingers if he did not make the proper happiness soup.
Nine days later the news was dedicated to the disappearance of Aiqing.
One day later legislative action was rumored to be taking place questioning whether Aiqing’s happiness soup should be considered a banned substance to be outlawed from China. Reports included a 600,000 RMB sale of a stale bowl of Aiqing’s happiness soup to the billionaire Chirathivat family of Thailand.
One day later, members of the People’s Liberation Army made a valiant rescue of Aiqing, but only after Aiqing had been brutally tortured by having his fingernails extracted.
Three days later, an executive committee made a successful argument that Aiqing should be awarded a National Model Worker Award.
Two days later, the request was denied. The soup, it was ruled, was leading to increased prostitution, gambling, underworld crime, and drug trafficking.
Thirteen hours later, Aiqing jumped off of the Hangzhou Bay Bridge.

Upon hearing of his death, people flocked to Hangzhou Bay to taste the water. The first woman to arrive at the water’s edge leaned in, submerged her head, and people said that her shadow got up and began to walk down the beach, taking her clothes off with each step. They swore this is what happened.