A group of fifteen- and sixteen-year-olds, each with their own dreams, walked through the gates of Hongzhong, the city's top high school and a cradle of future college students. Here, they hoped to find the wings that would let them soar. Step by step, they approached what people called adulthood, swaying as they moved along its edge, as if balanced on the very tip of youth. One step back, and they were still teenagers; one step forward, and they would be adults. It was such an awkward age. Sometimes they acted like children, wheedling affection from others and playing games from their childhood. Sometimes they discussed affairs of state, voiced political opinions, and analyzed the news. Sometimes they roamed the school and its surroundings in boisterous gangs. And sometimes they spoke gravely about whether true love could really last forever. They were proud to stand on this threshold, because they could be as composed and capable as adults while still enjoying a child's innocence and joy. But they also grieved to be there, because even the smallest misstep could come at a heavy price.
