By Gu Jin

Translated by WeWantSafety Translation Team

This article is translated from Ifeng’s 在人间Living:《在人间｜24岁中国留学生殒命芝加哥 枪击前三天妈妈收到他的最后礼物》

On November 7, a package from Chicago travelled across the ocean into the hands of a middle-aged woman in Leshan, Sichuan Province, China. She unwrapped the wrapping paper and found a bottle of perfume. It was a gift from her son, Shaoxiong (Dennis) Zheng, a 24-year-old international student at the University of Chicago. Shaoxiong’s mom did not know the foreign brand, and she would not have looked at it while shopping because of its high price. But she knew that it must be a gift from her son, who had taken money saved from his own living expenses to buy it for her. Shaoxiong had done the math for the package’s delivery time and requested that the courier deliver it exactly on her 57th birthday.

Shaoxiong always remembered his mother's birthday. Ever since he started college at the University of Hong Kong (HKU) in 2015, he would give his mother a “goodnight-call” every night at 10:30. These daily phone calls would never ring again after Shaoxiong’s death in a fatal shooting in Chicago last Tuesday.

Shaoxiong and his family are typical of countless ordinary families of Chinese students studying abroad. His mother works an ordinary job at a local hospital and made a modest income. She scrimped and saved to earn her son a better future by supporting his education every step of the way.

However, Shaoxiong and his family’s dream was brutally crushed on a cold rainy day in Chicago. On the afternoon of November 9, an armed robber shot Shaoxiong in the chest on the sidewalk, just one block away from the main campus of the University of Chicago. Seven hours later, as this appalling news swept through the Internet, Shaoxiong’s mother—thousands of miles away in Leshan, Sichuan—trembled because she could not reach her son.

The narrator of this article, Gu Jin, has thought of himself as the sworn brother of Shaoxiong ever since the two were young. “Our mothers have been close friends since middle school. We also played together, went to the same school, and felt like brothers ever since childhood.” Gu's mother has been with Shaoxiong's mother all the time since the horrible news broke.

Against the backdrop of the COVID-19 pandemic, this tragedy has shocked and moved countless people in both the US and China. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs of China and many netizens have expressed heartbreak and concern for Shaoxiong’s demise, and the US Consulate in Shanghai scheduled an emergency appointment for Shaoxiong’s mother to expedite her visa application. This afternoon (November 14), Shaoxiong’s mother will head to Shanghai for the visa interview and then fly to Chicago to bring her son home.

■ Photo: Shaoxiong during a trip

Below is Gu Jin’s narrative.

“Yes, the Chinese Consulate called us.”

November 10, 2021 was a Wednesday like any other. I arrived at work early in the morning. At 10:37 a.m., my mom posted a message in our family group chat: “A shooting just took place at the University of Chicago, and the victim was a 24-year-old young man majoring in statistics. Santong’s mother can’t reach him and she is panicking. I’m hurrying to her place now!” (Santong was Shaoxiong’s nickname.)

Fear gripped my heart as I saw her message, but I tried to comfort myself. I always had the impression that Shaoxiong was very aware of safety issues. When he first arrived in Chicago to start his master’s program, he shared a mobile app in our family group chat that provides real-time alerts for gun violence in the local neighborhood. He assured us that he stays aware of everything.

Around 11 a.m., I attended an online meeting and noticed that the media had already started to cover this incident. But there was only one vague report and the victim was not yet identified. I immediately searched for the phone numbers of the Chinese Consulate in Chicago and the University of Chicago Police Department so that our mothers could start calling them. At that moment, I was still trying to convince myself that the two traits of the victim, “24-year-old” and “studying statistics,” were merely a coincidence, and Shaoxiong was just fine.

At 11:49 a.m., my mom sent me a message again, “Yes, the Chinese Consulate called us.”

“My god!” All of a sudden, I was completely lost. I dashed out of the conference room to call my mom, and I heard the sound of sobbing on the other end of the phone. It was the moment that our world collapsed. There in my office, my mind turned completely blank. I only felt that the room was shrinking ceaselessly and squeezing my body ruthlessly. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t say anything.

That one word, “yes,” was so light that it did not seem to carry the weight of the tragedy, and I still couldn’t believe what happened was real. Only when the phone rang again, and I heard my family wailing, did I truly accept the news. I couldn’t contain myself any longer and burst into tears. I cried and cried.

Through my tears, I saw on my laptop that it was 12:31 p.m. Beijing time. An even more acute and fierce grief began to strike in my chest. Ever since Shaoxiong left home to study at HKU in 2015, he would call his mom every night around 10:30 p.m. to share his daily events at the university and to say goodnight. And that moment was exactly 10:31 p.m. in Chicago, just about the time for Shaoxiong’s reassuring phone call.

■ Photo: Shaoxiong and his mother

He was so much more than a “Straight-A Student”

We had known each other since we were in the womb, as our mothers had been best friends since middle school. When we were little boys, we were inseparable, for either studies or play.

These past few days, I have read many news reports that have simply labelled Shaoxiong as a straight-A student. But he is so much more than the label. To me, Shaoxiong’s most noble virtue was his deeply kind nature. From childhood through adulthood, he always embraced people and the world around him with the utmost kindness and gratitude.

As explained before, Santong was Shaoxiong’s nickname, and it shares the same pronunciation with the “Three Dots” (a tile in Mahjong). We both come from Leshan, a city in Sichuan Province. Every time Shaoxiong and I went back to our hometown for school breaks, we loved to play Mahjong together. Regardless of what we did during the daytime, every night Shaoxiong and I would gather at my place, flip over the small dining table on the balcony, and use it as a Mahjong table.

There were usually five Mahjong players: two mothers and three brothers (Shaoxiong, me, and my twin brother). Shaoxiong regularly brought his greatest talents to bear on even the smallest of matters. For example, when we were playing Mahjong, he was able to use statistical theory to count cards. We joked, in the words of Confucius, that he “used an ox cleaver to kill a chicken.” But Shaoxiong would just laugh and reply: “It’s called applying theory to practice.” Each bet was 1 RMB ($0.14) per round. We often played Mahjong until very late and had a lot of fun. The ever-victorious Shaoxiong always spent his Mahjong bonus to treat us to a big Chinese BBQ at a restaurant nearby. Shaoxiong’s Mahjong skills were so renowned that many relatives who regarded themselves as top Mahjong players came to compete with him. The small balcony at my place became a Mahjong arena. Against these challengers, Shaoxiong almost always won. The balcony was always filled with laughter and joy.

■ Photo: In 2000, we visited Taiyang Island in Leshan. The boy in the front is Shaoxiong Zheng.

When Shaoxiong was in elementary school, he wanted to run for class president. He asked his mom whether it was okay to vote for himself. Shaoxiong’s mother told him: “As long as you genuinely want to serve your classmates, you can vote for yourself even if nobody else votes for you.” In the end, it turned out that every classmate voted for him. The teacher in charge of the class told Shaoxiong's mother that he was the only class president who won every vote in the sixty-two-person class in well over a decade.

After we entered middle school, there was a day when Shaoxiong and I were playing basketball on the playground. When we were about to go home, a classmate by the name of Zhang offered a 5 RMB ($0.78) tip for whoever could fetch his backpack from upstairs. No one responded, but Shaoxiong got the backpack and the money. We were confused why he would want to do this, as it was not his usual style. The next day, our teacher unexpectedly praised Zhang, and that was when we finally found out that Shaoxiong donated the 5 RMB to buy a new mop for the class in Zhang’s name.

In retrospect, our middle school years were full of pure joy. Shaoxiong, together with me and my twin brother, loved playing computer games. When Shaoxiong’s family got a new computer, the three of us could not wait to explore it. We quickly downloaded the then newly released first-person shooter game Crysis. Before Shaoxiong's mother left for her night shift in the hospital, she told us, “You three get together and do whatever you like, just have fun!” That night was truly a blast. Crysis was a single-player PC game, so the three of us played it in turn. One person sat in front of the computer as the main player, while the other two sat on the sides as strategists. Time flew unnoticed from afternoon to dusk. We simply turned on the light without stopping the game. We played until we were utterly exhausted, and then we went to bed. Lying on the bed, I recalled the scary scenes in the game, which sent shivers down my spine. Shaoxiong consoled me by saying, “It’s OK. Don’t worry." Then he locked the door confidently, as he always did. We then huddled together and fell asleep in no time.

At that time, Shaoxiong’s mother was often on a night shift in the hospital, so Shaoxiong had to learn to take care of himself from a very young age. Although I am two years older than him, I lacked such experience in my childhood.

Later, we both left Leshan to attend high schools in Chengdu (the capital city of Sichuan). Shaoxiong studied at the Linyin Campus of Chengdu No.7 High School, whereas I was at the Ningxia Campus of Chengdu No.9 High School. Our schools were not far from each other. During the weekend, I used to take tutoring classes right next to his school. When I finished, I would head to Shaoxiong’s place, where his mother and great-aunt would treat us with their delicious home cooking. From time to time, Shaoxiong and his mother would also come to my rental apartment for a family gathering.

On such nights, we would huddle on the same bed in that rental apartment, chatting about everything for the whole night before the start of yet another busy week at school. When Shaoxiong ran for student ambassador of his high school, we borrowed a fancy camera to take pictures of him. We were not good at taking photos at all, but we tried our best to make him appear as a capable candidate. Eventually, because of his impressive academic record, his warm and confident smile, and his many other talents such as piano, calligraphy, and table tennis, he was successfully elected as the student ambassador of his high school.

■ Photo: Studying in a rental apartment in Chengdu in 2013 (The boy on the left is Shaoxiong Zheng.).

Chengdu No. 7 High School (as one of the best high schools in China) has never been lacking in smart and diligent students, or in intense academic competition. Even so, Shaoxiong still ranked among the top. He never stayed up late, nor did he study by repeatedly doing the exercises mindlessly. He instead would often seek to understand the underlying general principles by exploring a variety of solutions to the same problem. He studied with ease and took great pleasure in learning. He would also take time to share his studying strategies and tips with his classmates.

I remember that in high school, Shaoxiong once used his time off on a weekend to buy some white folding fans. He then set up a small stall on campus and sold fans for 10 RMB ($1.50) each. He offered to write calligraphy on each fan per the buyer’s request, for which he charged an additional 5 RMB (my mother paid him an “exorbitant” price of 20 RMB for hers). In this way, he earned a few hundred RMB and donated it all to the class fund.

Behind Shaoxiong’s busy but fulfilling life at school was the loving support of his mother. Every Friday, his mother would spend two hours on the bus to travel from Leshan to Chengdu, so that she could cook some of her best home-style dishes for him and keep him well nourished. Then, on Sunday evening, she would take the bus back to Leshan for her work. During Shaoxiong’s time in high school, his mother accumulated a small mountain of bus tickets.

■ Photo: Shaoxiong on the campus of Chengdu No.7 High School in 2014

A photo of Shaoxiong was taken one week before the tragedy. In the photo, he can be seen playing table tennis confidently and in high spirits. But in fact, he was more of a reserved person.

I can still recall how Shaoxiong first started playing table tennis when he was in elementary school. The table tennis room was on the top of the school building, so in the summer it was always very hot and stuffy. Once, when his mother went to pick him up, she found Shaoxiong standing next to the table and picking up the balls for others with sweat all over his face. She asked if he did not like to play table tennis. Shaoxiong said that he very much wanted to play, but he did not know how to play well and was no match against others. With his mother’s encouragement, Shaoxiong gradually got better and better at playing table tennis. Later, it became one of the hobbies that Shaoxiong mastered best.

■ Photo: Shaoxiong taking part in a table tennis competition in Chicago on November 3, 2021

I am writing down these small and mundane memories with tears filling my eyes. I feel like they just happened yesterday. But a brutal reality forces me to recognize that I will never see him again—not in this life.

■ Photo: The “Three Brothers” visiting Xichang in 2017

■ Photo: The “Three Brothers” visiting the Hong Kong Jockey Club in 2015

“Shaoxiong didn’t eat watermelons for a whole year in Hong Kong, as they were very pricy there; when he came home, he had a feast’s worth of them.”

Shaoxiong took the National College Entrance Examination one year after me. HKU was our dream school, but I failed to get in. As we all fully expected, Shaoxiong scored a 651 (out of 750) in the Examination and was admitted into HKU, realizing the academic dream for the both of us. We had a WeChat group where we used to discuss our ambitions and university choices. We renamed that chat group to “Chase Our Dreams in Hong Kong” after Shaoxiong’s admission into HKU. The members of the chat group were our two mothers and Shaoxiong, me, and my twin, the Three Brothers. Our group chat has been very active these past six years. It was the main space where we shared our life experiences and wishes with each other, despite the fact that we were living on different continents and in different time zones.

The high tuition of HKU left a huge financial burden on Shaoxiong’s family. But his mother would never restrict his academic dreams because of money.

After Shaoxiong entered HKU, his mother began to tighten her purse even more. She tried her best to save money in all aspects. She sold their house and even had to borrow money from their relatives and friends to cover Shaoxiong’s tuition. All the relatives and friends who knew Shaoxiong were more than willing to help such a promising young man. In spite of all this, Shaoxiong’s mother still cut her garment budget from a few hundred yuan to less than a hundred ($16) per piece, and there was only one lamp switched on in her entire apartment.

Shaoxiong and his mother relied on each other. Shaoxiong also tried his best to ease the financial pressure on his family. After some research on the Internet, he found out about the Soong Ching Ling Foundation, which provides financial assistance to students like him. He applied to the Foundation without telling his mom and eventually received a generous scholarship. Only after did he break this good news to his mother and gave her a joyous surprise.

■ Photo: Shaoxiong ZHENG receiving a scholarship from the Soong Ching Ling Foundation

■ Photo: Shaoxiong ZHENG receiving a scholarship from the Government of Hong Kong

■ Photo: Shaoxiong ZHENG awarded Outstanding Winner of the Mathematical Contest in Modeling 2017

To further ease the financial burden of his family, Shaoxiong tried to cut all expenses during his undergraduate studies. Because he found the watermelons in Hong Kong too expensive, he did not take a single bite of watermelons the entire year. He waited until he came back home during the holidays to enjoy a feast of watermelons.

Shaoxiong also decided to finish his undergraduate studies early to pay less tuition. He studied several courses at the same time. From high-speed trains, to planes, bus stops, and restaurants, there was no place that could not be transformed into one of his study spaces.

Due to his outstanding performance at HKU, Shaoxiong was selected as HKU’s student ambassador, receiving visitors from the general public and all walks of life. It also offered him exceptional and eye-opening opportunities to see the world while representing HKU at annual international events. At the same time, Shaoxiong collaborated with another student to publish a book titled The Logic of Doing Things (Sichuan University Press), based on his learning experiences. Although the royalties from the book were only drops in the bucket compared to his tuition fees, the money did help alleviate a little bit of his family’s financial burden.

Eventually, Shaoxiong graduated a semester early from HKU with first-class honors.

We never thought that when we saw the words “first-class honors” again, it would be in a condolence letter from HKU’s president, Prof. Xiang Zhang.

With a bachelor’s degree in statistics from HKU, Shaoxiong soon secured an offer of admittance from a graduate degree program at the University of Chicago, one of the best universities in the world, with a top department of statistics.

As always, he tried his best to apply for all kinds of scholarships and part-time opportunities at the University of Chicago. The pandemic broke out only a few months after the start of the academic year. Although he had to attend classes online in his rental apartment near campus, he still took good care of himself. Even while making a simple breakfast, he would pay attention to the presentation on the plate, take a photo, and share it with his mother, showing her that he was doing well. All of his neighbors knew that he loved cooking.

■ Photo: Shaoxiong learning to make mooncakes in his Chicago apartment. He then shared them with his neighbors.

■ Photo: Shaoxiong’s conversation with his mother on his birthday in 2021.

We knew that Chicago has safety problems, so we always worried about him. Every time the news reported a shooting incident in Chicago, he would send us screenshots of a mobile app, displaying information about the incident, to reassure us that he was paying extra attention.

But how can a mother not be concerned for her son? Shaoxiong’s mother rarely told him that she was worried about him every single day. Last year, when I came home for the Chinese New Year celebration, I took a walk in the park with his mother. She told me that whenever she saw toddlers trying to take their first steps, she thought of Shaoxiong. Whenever she saw teenagers walking by in the blue school uniform of Chengdu No.7 High School, she thought of Shaoxiong. Even when she sat alone in her living room at night, she always felt like her beloved son would walk out from his room at any moment. She followed not only the weather in Chicago, but also the news there. Whenever she heard about a violent incident in Chicago, she would lose sleep. But she tried to only give him cheerful encouragement and good wishes during their calls. When Shaoxiong’s mother heard about another shooting in Chicago in September, she said:

■ Photo: Whenever news of shooting incidents came from across the ocean, Shaoxiong’s mother could only express her worries through text.

This summer, Shaoxiong submitted his master’s thesis and was thinking about applying for a PhD program. He would probably have been accepted, but he did not end up applying. He decided that he did not want his retired mom to live under this kind of mental stress anymore.

Shaoxiong’s mother was not in good health. When Shaoxiong was in elementary school, she fractured her ankle in an accident. She had two operations where four steel nails and five steel needles were drilled into her foot. When Shaoxiong was in middle school, she was taken to the emergency room for a collapsed lung. When Shaoxiong studied at HKU, she was on the operation table again due to acute pancreatitis. As she got older, she started suffering from chronic diseases like hypertension. Shaoxiong decided to give up pursuing PhD studies and start working soon to support his family. He planned to gain some work experience in the US before going back to China, so that he could pay back his debts faster and look after his aging mother.

Three days before the tragedy, he sent his mom a birthday gift.

Shaoxiong was always a caring and thoughtful son. Before heading to the US, he replaced all the sockets in their house with switchable ones for his mom’s convenience. He prepared a pill dispenser so that his mom would not forget to take her medication. And never did Shaoxiong forget to send gifts home on Mother’s Day or his mom’s birthday, with money saved from his living expenses.

As planned, Shaoxiong’s mom received the scheduled gift from the US on November 7. It was a bottle of perfume, one that his mom would never have spent the money on herself. She shared her excitement with us in our group chat. She could never imagine that Shaoxiong would no longer be with her three days later. The perfume turned out to be the last birthday gift from her son.

■ Photo: Our mothers’ chat record from November 7, 2021.

Early on November 10, my mom received a WeChat message from Shaoxiong’s mom. Something had happened at the University, she said, and she had lost contact with Shaoxiong. She was shivering all over. From 11:00 to 11:40 a.m., Shaoxiong 's mom searched for information across her group chats and begged friends to contact the University. Suddenly, the Chinese Consulate called us at 11:50 a.m.

Sensing that something must have gone wrong, my mom burst into tears. A voice tinged with a Cantonese accent came from the phone: “Is this Zheng’s mother speaking? Are you with your family? Shaoxiong had an accident. He is now in the hospital. His heart stopped…”

All manner of friends, schoolmates, and colleagues have expressed condolences since then. Family members came to Shaoxiong’s mother as soon as they could. On the outside, Shaoxiong’s mother seemed unexpectedly composed, dealing with matters in the most methodical manner. But we knew what that composure really meant: under great pressure, Shaoxiong’s mom held onto a mother’s wish to see her son again. Shaoxiong was everything to her. Having earned his master’s degree this summer, Shaoxiong was about to start a new chapter in his life. As Shaoxiong’s mother said:

How tragic it is when hope turns into despair. Despite the pandemic, Shaoxiong’s mom is determined to take her son home to rest. The homeward journey will be difficult, and more hardships are sure to arise. As a sworn brother of Shaoxiong, I am now a sworn son of his mother. Today I have no other wish than to support her through this ordeal, so that my little brother may rest in peace.

November 14, Shaoxiong’s mom flight to Shanghai to obtain her visa, and headed to Chicago via Detroit to bring her son home. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs and strangers from all walks of life have expressed their dearest concern for Shaoxiong’s fate. The US Consulate also scheduled an emergency appointment to accelerate the whole process. May Shaoxiong’s homeward journey, however difficult, be blessed.

The deceased now rests in eternal peace, and the bereaved are left with their memories. Shaoxiong’s way home will be long, and so will be his mother’s life ahead. We wish all the kindness and mercy in the world for Shaoxiong’s mother for the rest of her life.