In 1992, Zou Xiaojing, a native of Zhucheng in Shandong Province, embarked on her academic journey at Tsinghua University’s Department of Electrical and Mechanical Engineering. Her dedication and exceptional performance culminated in earning a master’s degree in 1999. Subsequently, due to her outstanding academic record, she was accepted at Florida State University in the United States to pursue a Ph.D.
However, an unexpected delay threatened to derail her plans entirely. Despite receiving an acceptance letter, a full year passed before she could begin her studies in the U.S. The reason? A remarkable act of compassion toward a young orphan boy from Guiyang — a child she had never known, yet whose fate became inexplicably intertwined with hers.
This is their remarkable story.
Good news
During the winter break of 1995, Zou Xiaojing anxiously awaited news on her graduate school application at Tsinghua University. Then, one day, the news she had been hoping for arrived: She had been accepted into the master’s program in the Department of Electrical and Mechanical Engineering. This pivotal moment allowed her to bypass the time-consuming preparation for the graduate entrance exam, take on part-time jobs, and relieve her parents’ financial burden.
Hailing from a poor farming family in Zhucheng, Shandong, her parents had always struggled to support their children’s education. Since she entered Tsinghua University in 1992, she has continuously worked part-time to support herself by sorting mail in the school’s mailroom. Little did she know this job would alter the course of her life.
An undeliverable letter
One day, while sorting the mail in the mailroom, Zou Xiaojing unexpectedly found a letter addressed to “Dad, Tsinghua University Cafeteria” with no return address. The handwriting was childlike, as if from a primary school student, and the postmark indicated it was sent from Guiyang. It seemed like a dead-end letter — undeliverable with no way to return it. However, the crude handwriting struck a chord with Zou Xiaojing, prompting her to open the envelope, hoping to find a clue. Inside, she discovered a message written on the back of a piece of tinfoil from a cigarette pack:
“Dad, how are you? I am your son, Dongzi. Have you abandoned me? After you left, Mom left, too. Now, I am begging for food on Cabbage Street and constantly getting beaten. Please come and get me; I can’t survive on my own. Last month, I washed dishes for a restaurant owner, but he said I didn’t clean them properly and hit my head with a hammer. My head is still dizzy. I also looked after his children, but I fell asleep while doing it, and he slapped my face with his shoe. Dad, I really can’t survive any longer. Please come and get me. I can twist hemp ropes and roll tobacco for you.”
Reading the letter, Zou Xiaojing felt a pang in her heart. She returned the letter to her dorm and shared it with her classmates. Together, they started asking around at different campus cafeterias, looking for anyone who might be from Guiyang or know someone named Dongzi. Despite their efforts over a week, they could not discover any leads. The two chefs they found from Guiyang said no “Cabbage Street” was located there.
Feeling puzzled and disappointed, Zou Xiaojing bought a map of Guizhou Province and meticulously searched the Guiyang city map, but “Cabbage Street” was nowhere to be found. Determined to uncover the truth, she contacted Guiyang’s 114 directory assistance, only to be informed that no such street existed.
A fortunate turn of events
In early April 1996, as graduation approached and internships loomed, Zou Xiaojing, already accepted into the graduate program, was fortunate enough to bypass the usual internship and thesis design. While she could have used this time to take on more part-time work for extra income, she chose instead to volunteer for a thesis project in a remote area, specifying Guiyang as her desired location on the application form.
Zou Xiaojing chose Guiyang for two compelling reasons. First, it was a hub for major mechanical and electrical enterprises and scientific research institutions in China. Second, she couldn’t shake the memory of the letter and Dongzi. She speculated that “Cabbage Street” might be a lesser-known alley, unfamiliar to many. She was determined to discover if it existed once she arrived in Guiyang.
After arriving in Guiyang, she reported to her internship unit and immediately inquired about “Cabbage Street.” Many elderly locals who had lived in Guiyang all their lives were puzzled by the name. She even checked location name records at the city government office, including those of several suburban counties, but found no “Cabbage Street.” She was thoroughly disappointed.
One day, while interning in the workshop, she overheard one colleague jokingly say to another: “If you’re brave enough, go mess around on Cabbage Street!” Zou Xiaojing’s heart skipped a beat! She quickly asked: “Where is Cabbage Street?” The colleague chuckled and replied: “There is no actual ‘Cabbage Street.’ It’s just a local saying. ‘The boys from the east are handsome, the west is silly, the south is loved by everyone, and the north is like rotten cabbage.’ Cabbage Street refers to the northern part of the city,” he replied.
Overjoyed, Zou Xiaojing hailed a taxi and headed straight to the northern part of Guiyang.
Upon arrival, she immediately understood why it was called “Cabbage Street.” The street was strewn with sewage, garbage piles, and swarming flies, and the rundown houses were in complete disrepair. Zou Xiaojing meticulously questioned many residents until she finally unearthed a lead.
She discovered that Dongzi had been mentally impaired since childhood and had dropped out of primary school. His parents, who had a strained relationship with him, divorced three years ago, leaving Dongzi abandoned on Cabbage Street. His father had moved to Beijing, sending back 200 yuan before disappearing entirely. His mother, meanwhile, ran off with another man, leaving Dongzi completely alone.
Initially, neighbors pitied him and provided food and clothing. But after catching him stealing, they stopped helping him, leaving the young boy to fend for himself. The letter had been written by a second-grade child who had tried to help Dongzi.
The person who provided the information led Zou Xiaojing to a rundown courtyard and shouted: “Dongzi, your dad has sent someone to pick you up.”
The courtyard was filled with chicken feathers and entrails. In the midst of it all stood a skinny, dazed child carrying a bamboo basket full of dead chickens. Hearing someone call his name and seeing Zou Xiaojing enter the courtyard, the boy froze.
Seeing how emaciated he was, Zou Xiaojing felt a pang of sorrow. She took his hand and said: “Dongzi, your dad asked me to come and see you.”
She took Dongzi back to her dormitory and fed him a meal. Watching him wolf the food down, her heart ached even more. She then had him take a bath and change into new clothes. Upon closer inspection, she realized he was a pretty good-looking child.
The greatest gift of her life
During this time, aside from her internship in the workshop, Zou Xiaojing devoted all her time and energy to Dongzi. She took him shopping, to amusement parks, and to the zoo to see tigers, trying to make up for all his misfortunes. Whenever Dongzi asked when they would visit his father, Zou Xiaojing would say: “We’ll talk about it after I finish my internship. Your Dad is waiting for you in a faraway place.” Seeing the child’s happy smile, Zou Xiaojing also felt very happy, knowing that her guess about the letter had been right.
But she was uncertain about what lay ahead. She had found the child, but what about his future?
Determined to secure a stable future for Dongzi, Zou Xiaojing tirelessly navigated through various government departments. Her first stop was the Civil Affairs Bureau, where she hoped the government could intervene. However, officials explained that Dongzi did not qualify as an orphan since both parents were alive, and the institution’s adoption criteria were stringent due to budget constraints.
In desperation, Zou Xiaojing turned to the police, reporting Dongzi’s parents for child abandonment. At the police station, she received an unexpected revelation: Six months earlier, Beijing authorities had sought assistance from Guiyang police to apprehend Dongzi’s father, who had turned to drug trafficking following the collapse of his restaurant business.
Initially, Zou Xiaojing had hoped first to find Dongzi and then gradually track down his father, but now that plan seemed out of reach. With all paths seemingly closed off, what could she possibly do? As a student barely able to sustain herself, caring for someone like Dongzi, who had no grasp of money, seemed daunting. At the supermarket, he would take food when hungry and allow others to take money from him if asked. But the thought of leaving such a vulnerable child on Cabbage Street was unbearable to her.
Before she could devise a solution, her internship concluded in mid-May 1996. After much agonizing deliberation, Zou Xiaojing gave Dongzi the remaining few hundred yuan she had escorted him to the bus station on Cabbage Street and assured him, “Wait here for me; I’ll return soon.” Dongzi seemed to understand, silently nodding in response. As she hurriedly walked away, Zou Xiaojing couldn’t shake the feeling that she was betraying him.
Back at the dormitory, she hastily packed her luggage. She was due to board a train back to Beijing in just two hours. As evening descended and the streetlights flickered on, Zou Xiaojing felt her cheeks flush with guilt. As she restlessly paced the room, she pictured Dongzi standing alone beneath a dim streetlight — abandoned not just by his parents, but now by her. The thought filled her with excruciating pain.
Unable to bear it longer, she hailed a taxi back to Cabbage Street. In the deepening dusk, she saw Dongzi standing there, waiting silently. Zou Xiaojing enveloped him in a tight embrace, tears streaming down her face, overwhelmed with relief that she hadn’t gone through with something she would have regretted deeply. She would realize that he was the greatest gift life would give her.
After returning Dongzi to Beijing, Zou Xiaojing lived through three years of ungodly hardship as a graduate student. She rented a small room near the university for Dongzi, but was worried about leaving him alone, so she divided the room in half with a curtain and slept on a plank bed in the outer half. Dongzi, traumatized by past experiences, often woke up screaming from nightmares. She would rush to his side, holding his hand and reassuring him: “It’s okay, I’m here.”
The rent and living expenses were a strain. Besides helping in the mailroom, she took on a job cleaning staircases to earn an extra 300 yuan a month, barely making ends meet. Dongzi, understanding her struggles, helped with chores. The boy never asked about his father, and when Zou Xiaojing mentioned it, Dongzi said: “I don’t have a father; I just want to live with you.”
One day, while Zou Xiaojing was memorizing foreign vocabulary, she was astonished to hear Dongzi repeating the words clearly and accurately. Testing him with deliberate mistakes, she observed how he mirrored her corrections. It dawned on her that Dongzi might not be intellectually slow, but simply lacked education. Determined to help him, she began teaching him with middle school textbooks. To her surprise, Dongzi quickly absorbed the material and recited it fluently.
A medical examination later revealed Dongzi’s unique cognitive profile: an exceptional memory paired with lower logical reasoning skills, which suggested he possessed considerable potential if nurtured properly. The doctor recommended providing him with a suitable education to harness his talents. Zou Xiaojing was filled with immense joy and hope for Dongzi’s future.
A heart of gold
In early March 1999, good news arrived: Zou Xiaojing received a full scholarship from Florida State University for her outstanding performance in a particle collision experiment. However, she encountered a significant hurdle when she began processing her visa.
In early April 1999, Zou Xiaojing took her acceptance letter and passport to the U.S. Embassy. The visa officer demanded proof of her direct relationship with Dongzi and financial guarantees for him in the U.S. Despite explaining their close bond and assuring them that her scholarship would cover them, the officer refused to grant the visa.
By late October 1999, the semester had started, yet she was still in China. Zou Xiaojing quietly gave up her opportunity to study abroad and found a job as a programmer in Zhongguancun, earning 2,000 yuan a month. Her financial situation improved slightly, and she managed to enroll Dongzi in a school through some connections. Every evening after work, she would prepare dinner and wait for Dongzi to return from school, like a mother waiting for her son, in peace and contentment.
A scholar’s compassion changes two lives
In December 1999, perplexed by her absence, Florida State University reached out to Tsinghua University. Zhou Xiaojing’s advisor, Professor Ouyang, assumed she had departed for the U.S. Upon discovering she had taken a programmer job instead, he chastised her harshly. After hearing her explanation, the white-haired professor sighed deeply and remarked: “You could have entrusted the child to me and my wife.” Zou Xiaojing replied: “I didn’t want to burden you at your age.” The elderly professor reassured her: “You’ve done nothing wrong, my child. Let me see what I can do.”
In February 2000, shortly before the Spring Festival, Ms. Davis, a UNESCO observer, visited Tsinghua University. During a meeting, Professor Ouyang explained why Zou Xiaojing had forgone her opportunity to study in the U.S. Ms. Davis was astonished to hear such a compelling reason for turning down a full scholarship abroad. The story deeply moved her.
In early April 2000, Ms. Davis personally sent a signed financial guarantee for Dongzi and an acceptance letter from a Chinese school in the U.S, clearing the way for Dongzi’s journey. Zou Xiaojing expressed her profound gratitude in a letter to Ms. Davis. In response, Ms. Davis humbly replied: “It’s not you who should thank me, but I who should thank you. You have shown me the grace, dignity, and heart of gold of a Chinese intellectual woman. I will provide further assistance upon your arrival in the U.S.”
At the end of May 2000, Zou Xiaojing and Dongzi finally embarked on their journey to the U.S. Zhou Xiaojing earned a Ph.D. from the University of Southern California and established herself in a fulfilling career. In 2015, Dongzi also graduated with a Ph.D. from USC and joined a neuroscience research institute at a medical center, becoming the youngest Chinese director at the institute.
Their journey, from the challenges of Cabbage Street in Guiyang to their achievements in the United States, is a testament to compassion, resilience, and determination. Against all odds, Zou Xiaojing’s unwavering commitment to an abandoned orphan boy, supported by Ms. Davis’s kindness and Professor Ouyang’s guidance, changed their lives and inspired countless others. Their story is a powerful reminder that perseverance, kindness, and the steadfast support of others can unlock extraordinary opportunities.
Translated by Katy Liu and edited by Tatiana Denning
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