DSYOM Chapter 51

The moment he finished retracing his memories, the doorbell rang.

Bian Cheng got up to bring in dinner, while Wen Di sat at the table, his heart churning with an indistinguishable mix of astonishment and wonder.

He tried to imagine Bian Cheng behaving like an ordinary child, praising his mother’s cooking skills and smiling, but it was difficult for him to imagine it.

It turns out that Professor also has this side.

Bian Cheng returned with the takeout bag and noticed the person at the table staring at him, so he asked what was wrong.

Wen Di shook his head. “I’ve gained a new understanding of human nature.”

Bian Cheng called out to the person who was watching cartoons to come eat. Although Jiang Yu was deeply absorbed, he immediately came out when he heard his name, sitting upright in the chair.

Bian Cheng handed over his portion, and Jiang Yu broke apart his chopsticks, began to eat earnestly. Wen Di watched his methodical, appetite-dampening movements, seeing a certain family resemblance in them.

Bian Cheng echoed this idea and started eating like a mirror image on the opposite side. After they finished, the three of them cleaned up the meal boxes. Jiang Yu then took a collection album from the living room bookshelf and held it up eagerly. “Gege, look!”

Wen Di stretched his neck curiously, and Jiang Yu showed him the booklet with many four-leaf clovers pasted on it.

Bian Cheng explained to Wen Di, “He likes collecting things like this.”

Jiang Yu happily flipped through the pages, one by one, showing the neatly arranged leaves. “I finally filled it up!”

Wen Di thought Bian Cheng might offer a bit of praise, or at least a nod or something. Instead, Bian Cheng looked at his brother with a serious expression and said, “Close the book. We need to talk.”

Jiang Yu, unaccustomed to seeing this expression on his brother’s face, closed the album, feeling like he had done something wrong but unsure what it was.

“We’re transferring to a new school,” Bian Cheng said.

Wen Di showed an expression of approval. Regardless of whether it was to cultivate an interest or because of Jiang Yu’s desire for club activities, this school was not a suitable place.

Jiang Yu’s reaction was far beyond what they expected. Normally, he accepted things without complaint, even happily enduring grievances. But now he strongly resisted: “No.”

“That school isn’t right for you,” Bian Cheng said. “We’re going to a better place to study.”

It was unclear whether Jiang Yu understood, but he only repeated stubbornly, “No.”

This child was always obedient, which made Bian Cheng feel puzzled. “Why?”

“There are friends there.”

Bian Cheng sighed. It was a cycle. Jiang Yu was like a human magnet; wherever he went, he always managed to attract the worst types of people. They played him like a fool, and the victim stayed blissfully unaware, getting sold out while helping them count money.[footnote]被卖了还帮人数钱: literally translates to “being sold and still helping count the money for others.” It describes someone who is so naive or oblivious that they don’t realize they’re being taken advantage of, even to the point of assisting their own manipulators.[/footnote]

He felt a headache coming on, worrying about how to explain the dangers of the world to this sunny little fool. Then Jiang Yu left the dining table and ran to his bedroom.

When he came back, he was holding a small metal piece. He placed it on the table with great care and showed it to the two adults: A friend gave it to me.

Wen Di leaned in to take a look. It was a metal bookmark. “Why did he give you this?” Wen Di asked.

Jiang Yu thought about it for a moment and said, “I don’t know; he doesn’t let me talk to him.”

Bian Cheng felt his headache getting worse. This didn’t sound like a gift; it sounded like mockery. The scene probably went like this: a classmate was reading a book, and Jiang Yu, curious, asked what he was reading. The person sneered, saying, “Even an idiot wants to read ah” and tossed the bookmark over, laughing with the people around him.

“You should stay away from this kind of person from now on,” Bian Cheng said. Bian Cheng said, “What’s his name?”

“Qu Ruiheng.” Jiang Yu tried writing the name on the table, but he stopped after writing a radical. He scratched his head and thought about the remaining strokes, but was frustrated to find that he had forgotten them again. Why couldn’t this person have an easier name?

Bian Cheng only got a pronunciation, but that didn’t prevent him from adding this person to the list of defendant.

Wen Di watched silently for a moment, then looked at Bian Cheng and said, “Take me with you when you go to the school tomorrow.”

Bian Cheng was a bit surprised. “What are you going to do?”

“Resign,” Wen Di said. “How can I stay here after offending the school’s big sponsor? Before they can fire me, I’ll resign first, so it’ll look like I’m the one looking down on them, not the other way around. This is called a spiritual victory.”

“Sorry,” Bian Cheng said, “you encountered this situation because of my younger brother. Sorry for the trouble.”

“Sorry,” Jiang Yu quickly lowered his head. He understood what ‘causing trouble’ meant.

“I’m feeling proud of playing the hero here, don’t ruin the mood,” Wen Di waved his hand. “It’s fine; I’m used to it anyway. I’ve got a bad-luck constitution anyway, so one more time doesn’t make a difference.”

“Bad-luck constitution ?” Jiang Yu pondered over those four words.

“It’s just bad luck,” Wen Di said, becoming sad again. His bad luck had extended from academics to job hunting. He hoped things would go better in the fall recruitment season.

After they finished eating, Wen Di still had some chores to do, so he stood up to say goodbye. Although they were only about ten steps apart, Bian Cheng still walked him to the door.

Glancing at the couplets on the door, Bian Cheng said, “It’s been a long time since we’ve had such a peaceful conversation.”

“Isn’t that because there’s a kid around?”

“Yes,” Bian Cheng replied. “Thanks for helping him. Let me treat you to a meal sometime when you’re free.”

Wen Di felt this was only fair, so he agreed. Then he suddenly realized something. “When I went to your house to eat, why wasn’t he surprised? Does he know who I am?”

“No, he just likes you,” Bian Cheng tried to reassure him. “He doesn’t know about our relationship or that it was his gefu[footnote]哥夫 (gefu): a brother’s boyfriend, which corresponds to jiefu (姐夫, elder sister’s husband)[/footnote] who helped him.”

“What do you mean, ‘gefu’?!”

“Brother-in-law?”[footnote]Bian Cheng replied in English btw[/footnote]

Wen Di covered his head, what’s with that ah! “Bye!”

Just as he was about to close the door, a head suddenly popped out from behind it. Wen Di looked down to see Jiang Yu’s big eyes gazing at him expectantly.

“Do you want to say goodbye to gege?” Bian Cheng asked Jiang Yu.

Jiang Yu shook his head, took out his collection album, and handed it to Wen Di.

Wen Di looked at the booklet, feeling a little confused for a moment. “For me?” He took it hesitantly. “Why?”

“Four-leaf clovers,” Jiang Yu said, “it will definitely get better.”

Wen Di lowered his head and saw the green color coming through the paper. The clovers had been carefully collected, dried, and pressed flat with cardboard, all neatly arranged between the pages.

“Thank you,” Wen Di said. At that moment, he suddenly understood a lot of things.

The next morning, just after he’d finished getting ready, Bian Cheng came knocking at his door. Having a ride to and from work was indeed convenient.

When they arrived at the school, Wen Di first went to the high school division to submit his resignation and collect the remainder of his internship pay, while Bian Cheng headed to the principal’s office in the administration building.

The principal’s office was spacious, with a small reception area upon entry. Two sofas faced each other there, with an ashtray and tea cups placed on the glass coffee table in between. The day before, Bian Cheng had received a call from Vice Principal Fang, who was in charge of student affairs, telling him they’d have a discussion here today.

However, when he walked in, he found that he was the only one there.

The secretary came in with a polite yet insincere smile and poured him a cup of tea.

Bian Cheng asked: “Where are Yang Tianhua’s parents?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Yang have an important cocktail event today and couldn’t make it,” the secretary replied. “Their lawyer will be speaking with you.” He glanced at his watch. “Maybe there’s a traffic jam on the road. Please wait a moment.”

Bian Cheng frowned. Their attitude was even more dismissive than he’d expected.

Shortly after, two middle-aged men appeared at the door, one with a large belly and the other in a crisp suit. The secretary pointed to the heavier man, introducing him as Vice Principal Fang, while the other was, naturally, the Yang family’s lawyer.

Seeing the vice principal’s beaming smile, Bian Cheng felt that today’s trip would likely be a waste of time.

As expected, the moment Bian Cheng brought up yesterday’s incident, Vice Principal Fang’s smile vanished, his brows knitting tightly. “Bullying? There’s absolutely no such thing at our school,” he said with a stern expression.

Bian Cheng turned his phone around to show several photos of bruises on arms and legs.

Vice Principal Fang took a quick look at the images, then shook his head and pushed the phone back. “Parent of Jiang Yu, let’s be realistic, boys at this age can get scrapes and bruises from chasing and playing between classes, or in gym class. We have such a rich variety of extracurricular activities at our school; kids who learn fencing, equestrian, and hockey have far more bruises than this.”

“He doesn’t do fencing, equestrian, or hockey.”

“How do you know? Parents sometimes don’t understand their children.”

Bian Cheng looked at him: “What do you mean?”

“You’re not his biological parent, and you don’t spend much time with him,” the vice principal said. “Children sometimes exaggerate the facts, and we as parents need to carefully distinguish them.”

The lawyer at the side also spoke up: “Mr. Bian, the law relies on evidence. If there is physical violence, there should be a medical report; if it’s psychological violence, there should be a diagnosis. You can’t just come in and label it as school bullying without any evidence; that would be unjust, wouldn’t it?”

“So if he breaks a few ribs or gets some scars, it’s no problem?” Bian Cheng looked at him coldly. “As long as he doesn’t go insane or become depressed, it’s fine?”

“Jiang Yu’s parent, calm down. Things aren’t as serious as you’re making them out to be,” the vice principal said. “You weren’t even there.”

“I was.” A voice came from the doorway.

The two men confronting each other by the sofa turned around to see Wen Di standing at the door.

The vice principal shot a glance at the secretary, seemingly blaming him for not stopping anyone: “Is this person also a parent of Jiang Yu?”

“I’m an eyewitness,” Wen Di said. “I saw the student surnamed Yang run into him with a bicycle with my own eyes.”

The lawyer exchanged a glance with the vice principal. “Are you sure it was a collision? My client claims it was just a slow reaction, that he didn’t dodge in time,” the lawyer asked. “Or do you have video evidence?”

“When you see a bike hit someone, your first reaction must be to help, how can you be bothered to video it?”

The lawyer gave a small smile. “That…”

“But I recorded everything that happened afterward.” Wen Di took out his phone and played two brief clips.

[Why are you so arrogant, you intern? My dad can crush your whole family with just one finger, believe it or not? ]

[Fuck, you’re just a teacher, but you really think you’re something? I’ll make a call and get you fired immediately!]

The other two people present looked gloomy. Wen Di turned off his phone, sighing, “If this were posted online, the effect would definitely be explosive. As it happens, I have a friend who runs a self-media business.”

He gave Bian Cheng a knowing look—although they had said quite a bit, it could be edited appropriately.

“The mother’s words were also… colorful,” Wen Di added. “One could say it was like dealing with two peas in a pod.”

The lawyer stared at him, as if he was calculating the potential public relations mess. After a moment, he turned to Bian Cheng and asked, “What are your demands?”

“Expulsion, and for the instances of violence against other students to be recorded in his academic record,” Bian Cheng replied. “That’s a reasonable demand ba.”

The lawyer frowned, seeming to completely disagree with the wording of ‘reasonable’. After a moment of thought, he said, “How about this: though my client didn’t act intentionally, Jiang Yu did get hurt, so we’re willing to offer financial compensation for your losses.”

“No need,” Bian Cheng said. “I’ve already stated my demands. I expect to get a reply before 5pm tomorrow. Also, I want Yang Tianhua’s parents to come and talk to me in person. Otherwise, I’ll upload the video.”

He stood up, walked around the cold tea cup on the table, and moved in front of Wen Di. Wen Di naturally followed him out the door toward the parking lot.

Along the way, lively students were playfully arguing, their laughter filling the campus. They were young, with bright futures ahead, as if no sorrow would ever touch their lives.

Turning the corner of the teaching building, Wen Di said, “If it were me, I’d just drop out of the school and be done with it. I wouldn’t make a fuss, cause a scene, or even think about seeking justice.”

The person who had gathered evidence beforehand, anticipated the negotiations wouldn’t go smoothly, and rushed over to intervene, now said he would simply surrender. Bian Cheng was surprised.

“Although I like the idea that justice will always prevail, it’s hard to apply in real life,” Wen Di said. “As a common person, rebelling against the powerful only brings far more trouble than benefits. My first reaction is always to just let it go.”

“Then why…”

“Because you’re here,” Wen Di turned his head and gave him a relaxed smile. “I believe you’ll take care of the troublesome part.” After saying that, he nervously added, “You will, right?”

Bian Cheng quickly reassured him: “Of course.”

Wen Di nodded, as if no further proof was needed, then asked, “So why aren’t you afraid of trouble?”

“School isn’t society,” Bian Cheng said. “At least not during the stage of compulsory education period, we cannot use such things to let students know that as long as you have power, whatever you do is right and there are no consequences. If the school teaches students this kind of mentality, then society is beyond saving.”

Wen Di was not surprised that he had such an idea. This person was terribly idealistic when it came to teaching and academia.

Talking about school, Bian Cheng remembered that Wen Di had just resigned, and said again: “I’m sorry for causing you to lose your job.”

Wen Di sighed: “I’ve gotten tired of hearing you apologize lately. I’ve already said it’s fine, this crappy school wasn’t worth staying at anyway, and I’ve always planned to go into higher education.”

They had been married for five years, and this was the first time they talked about their future plans. Bian Cheng was curious about his partner’s life plans: “Why do you want to be a university teacher?”

“It’s not really something I’ve wanted,” Wen Di said. “It’s just that, naturally…I ended up on this path.”

‘Naturally’ wasn’t a sufficient reason in Bian Cheng’s eyes. Academia was hard and exhausting, with low pay, and the only benefit was the freedom to research. If you weren’t truly passionate about it, walking this path would be too much of a loss: “If you don’t want to pursue academia, why did you go for a PhD?”

“Many people don’t pursue a PhD because they want to do academia,” Wen Di said. “Take me, for example. My major in college was a fallback, I wasn’t good at it, and for the first few years, I was just focused on studying, with no career plan. By the end of my third year, I hadn’t done any internships, and had no idea about the industry or the workplace. During the summer, I applied for a few positions, and during group interviews, I was completely lost, not knowing how to compete for speaking time. The interviewer asked me if I had any experience that matched the position, and I could not say anything except studying. After being rejected a few times, I suddenly realized my biggest strength was my ability to study, and the best place for me was school. So I might as well stay in school for the rest of my life, and that’s how I ended up pursuing a PhD.”

Looking back, it wasn’t a wise choice. He wasn’t good at literary research to begin with, and his advisor was a poor match, so what he developed the most in his PhD was his ability to handle miscellaneous tasks.

“Of course, there’s also social status,” Wen Di added. “When I talk to relatives and friends, if they ask me where I work and I say I’m a university professor, the conversation ends in an atmosphere that both parties are satisfied with.”

“Just to avoid awkward conversations during the New Year, do you do academia?”

Wen Di frowned and looked at him: “That’s a perfectly valid reason! You haven’t been in a familiar social circle and you don’t consider other people’s feelings, so of course you don’t care.”

Bian Cheng didn’t refute him but asked, since he implied that he wasn’t suited for studying literature, why not change majors.

“It’s not that easy to change majors,” Wen Di said. “In the first two years, my GPA wasn’t high enough to transfer. Later, my grades improved, but by then it was too late. Besides, where would I even transfer to? The job prospects for liberal arts are all similar, so there’s no need to change. Changing from humanities to liberal arts is much too difficult.”

So, just as he ‘naturally’ went into academia, he also ‘naturally’ stayed in the Department of Foreign Languages.

Bian Cheng looked thoughtful. For some reason, Wen Di sensed regret in his silence.

“What’s wrong?” Wen Di asked.

“You’re smart, have strong learning ability, and can endure hardship,” Bian Cheng said. “If you had started on the right path from the beginning, you should have done really well.”

Wen Di wasn’t surprised by ‘You, a genius, think I’m smart.’ He looked at the willow tree, which was beginning to sprout, and after a while, said, “Do you remember Yu Jingyi? My roommate.”

Bian Cheng nodded. He had met her once during an argument with Wen Di.

“She was the top student in our class,” Wen Di said. “The professors all acknowledged her as the best student in the Department of Foreign Languages in the past decade. Her graduation thesis won an award at an important linguistics conference, and a professor from Cambridge really admired her and wanted to take her as a student.”

“Isn’t that great?”

“Yeah, and she likes linguistics,” Wen Di thought for a moment, then corrected himself, “I shouldn’t say ‘liked, it should be ‘obsessed.’ But although she wasn’t from a poor family, her parents were just ordinary workers and didn’t have much money.”

Bian Cheng had heard this kind of story before. There were quite a few students in the Department of Mathematics who had changed majors due to financial difficulties.

“She hadn’t planned on going at first. But when her parents found out, they called her over and scolded her, saying that there was no parent who would not let their daughter go to Cambridge. Then they sold their house and sent her to the UK to pursue her PhD.” Wen Di had paused, then continued, “After a little over a year, in her second year of the PhD program, her father had been diagnosed with lung cancer.”

“She took a leave of absence to come back and take care of him. He underwent treatment for a year, but the money ran out, and he passed away,” Wen Di said. “At home, there was only her mother, who was about to retire and didn’t even own a house. She originally wanted to find a job back in her hometown and spend her life with her mother, but her mother encouraged her to go out, saying staying there would bury her talent. So, she came to Beijing. Now, she teaches at an IELTS institution while preparing for the Foreign Ministry exams. Back in college, she never thought she would become a civil servant. You see, even if you start on the right path, you may end up off track.”

The past three years of Yu Jingyi’s life had been so painful, yet it could be condensed into a story that could be told in just a few minutes. Wen Di looked at the young faces in the campus. To them, life still held countless possibilities, and tomorrow was full of hope.

“The world is just a huge makeshift stage, and everyone is miscast,” Wen Di said. “Those who should be studying linguistics are teaching IELTS, those who should be directors are working in investment banks, and those who were originally science students are studying literature.”

“It’s understandable if one or two people are wrong, but how come everyone is wrong?” He sighed and looked at Bian Cheng. “That’s why I envy you. You’re the only one who got the right script from the beginning to the end.”

Talent, diligence and luck, coupled with the halo of their parents, had enabled them to maintain the brilliance of idealism to this day.

How wonderful it is, idealism.

He sighed as he walked around the artificial lake and headed towards the junior high school and Bian Cheng called out to him in confusion: “The parking lot is on the other side.”

“I know,” he replied. “I’m going to find someone.”

 

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T/N: Title is from Macbeth, Act 3, Scene 2. The literal translation for the title ‘以不义开始的事，必须用罪恶巩固’ would be ‘What begins with iniquity must be consolidated with sin’