From then on my confidence grew and grew. My exam grades improved remarkably. Teacher Xiao gave me a "good" grade and even Gao gave me a much-improved "above average". But I knew there was still much more to do. I wanted to be among the top students in my class. I wasn't sure how long this would take but I knew I would get there eventually. I had the bow-shooter's image from Teacher Xiao's fable stored firmly in my mind and I was determined.

That year we experienced one of the worst autumns in Beijing since our arrival in 1972. Because of massive fuel shortages over the years, virtually every tree in and around Beijing had been cut down and the strong winds blew up the treeless soil on the outskirts of the city, covering the ancient capital in dust. We called it Beijing Dust and once the strong winds started to whirl we would avoid the streets as much as possible. If we had to go out we wore small white facemasks to shield us from the dirt. Some people wore sunglasses too, but I could never afford a pair of those. When Xiongjun and I returned from his family on Sundays, our facemasks were always covered with dust and pollution. But we had to wear them, or by the end of the day we would be coughing up thick black mucus. The next Chinese New Year holiday, on my trip home, I visited my fourth brother Cunsang on his battleship. It was February 1975. He had been in the navy for a year and was well liked by his superiors and his fellow sailors. He was stationed in Qingdao that year and the commander of the ship asked the chefs to cook me a delicious meal. I had to earn it though, by performing for them on the big metal deck. They applauded everything I did but I could tell they were bored with my pliés and arabesques: the backflips and the martial arts movements were much more interesting, and they were so impressed when I told them I had seen Chairman Mao and even met Madame Mao in person.

After lunch Cunsang and I sat on the edge of the ship's deck with our legs dangling over the side. It was a beautiful winter day, with the sun warm on our heads. I asked him if he enjoyed the sailor's life.

"No, I hate it," he said simply. He missed home, especially his girlfriend Zhen Hua, and couldn't stand being apart from her for much longer. He was now only two years into his standard four- year service. He told me that his political mentors in the navy wanted him to apply for Communist Party membership. They'd said promotions would follow but that he'd have to stay longer than the four years before he would be considered for such enhanced privileges.

Cunsang told me he would not serve beyond his four-year term. He wanted to marry Zhen Hua as soon as he retired from the navy. Then, all of sudden, to my great surprise, he leaned forwards and dived gracefully into the sea. The deck was far, far above the surface of the water. He called out for me to dive down too, but when I looked over the edge I froze with fear. Eventually one of Cunsang's sailor friends brought me a pair of shorts and a white cotton vest for me to change into, then lowered me down to the freezing water with a rope. Within minutes my teeth started to chatter uncontrollably and my lips had turned purple.

Cunsang had to ask his colleagues to pull me up, but he swam on for another half an hour. I sat on the deck, shivering, wrapped in towels-and Cunsang never mentioned his unhappiness again.

Teacher Xiao went to Qingdao too for a few days that New Year's holiday, and paid a surprise visit to my family, driven by the desire to know his students' families better. Our third year was now completed and Teacher Xiao had been teaching me for one and a half years.

He arrived at our house one day just as we were about to have lunch. The special New Year food had virtually been depleted and there was no time or money for us to go shopping. Our dia was home for lunch that day and our parents were embarrassed to serve what was left to my teacher. "Can you wait for about half an hour, so I can prepare you a better meal?" my niang begged.

"Please, Auntie, this is not what I'm here for and I'm so hungry." Teacher Xiao hopped onto the kang and sat between Cunfar and me, legs folded like us in the lotus position. "The reason I came unannounced was so that you wouldn't have to prepare a special meal just for me. I want to eat what you normally eat. This way I can truly experience what your life is like."

That meant experiencing dried yams, a few pieces of leftover corn bread, pickled turnips and sorghum soup. Teacher Xiao started with a piece of corn bread.

"Tastes good!" he said, out of politeness, but my niang took this to heart and immediately started to pile pieces of corn bread in front of him.

"No, no! I can't eat this much! Besides, I want to taste this- what do you call this?" he said enthusiastically.

Oh no, I thought. Not those.

"Dried yams," my niang replied.

Sure enough, he gagged on the first piece and had to drink a great deal of sorghum soup to wash it down. But the sorghum soup didn't taste too good either. I couldn't help thinking it was funny, but I didn't dare laugh out loud.

I showed Teacher Xiao around the village after lunch-he was shocked at our poor living conditions. "Cunxin, you must be thinking about your family constantly while you are in Beijing?"

"Yes. I think about them when I'm eating-meat, fish, rice or fruit. I wish I could help them," I replied.

"You can," Teacher Xiao said.

"How?"

"By working hard and becoming the best dancer you can! I have watched you over the past year and a half, Cunxin. I have no doubt that you have the inner strength to become a special dancer. Now I understand where that inner strength comes from. The strength of your parents' character is in you. It is the most valuable quality anyone can possess. If you are ever in doubt about your own abilities, all you need to do is think of your parents and what they have gone through. Your desire to help them is your incentive to work hard." He paused, with passion in his eyes. "Cunxin, I would dearly love to make you see ballet through my eyes. The subtleties of each step! The elegance of each movement! Ballet is one of the most refined art forms in the world!"

"But I can't do the high jumps or turns," I said. "Actually, I have nothing special to make me a good dancer."

"Cunxin, nothing is impossible for a determined human being. Physical imperfections are easier to overcome than mental deficiencies. Remember the bow-shooter fable?" he said. "Nothing is impossible if you put your heart and soul into it! Let's make your family proud! Become a good dancer, the greatest dancer you can be. Starting next year, I expect to see nothing less than the best from you."

It was true that Teacher Xiao's fable of the bow-shooter had left a deep impression on me. But from that day on it became an inspirational driving force. Whenever I met difficulties or challenges in my dancing, like the split jumps, I always went back to this fable for my basic inspiration: hard work, determination and perseverance. That day, Teacher Xiao's words had touched me deeply, and I knew that he cared.