In the evening, Nassau Hall was bathed in the afterglow, and the ivy on the walls shimmered with a golden hue. Under the shade of the trees, students strolled in a group of three or four, occasionally with a few sitting on the lawn, reading books or conversing softly. Beneath the sky, which was layered with hues of the setting sun, stood the Gothic spire of Princeton University’s chapel, adding a touch of solemnity to the tranquil campus.
Bian Cheng walked out of the gate of Fine Hall and blended into the crowd. A few students from the Department of Mathematics who knew him greeted him, and after a few seconds, he nodded in response
His father’s trembling, angry roar still lingered in his ears.
Before coming out to his family, he had anticipated his father’s reactions—shock, sadness, refusal to accept reality—all of which were normal. But his father’s emotional breakdown and forcing him to go on blind dates and get married far exceeded his expectations.
He had always believed that his own family background was enviable. His parents were well-read, talented, had a happy marriage, and were open and lenient in their education, always supporting his choices. Even though the previous generation was steeped in the atmosphere of ‘homosexuality is abnormal,’ his parents should have been more accepting than their peers when it came to their son coming out.
But the result was that his usually kind and gentle father seemed to have turned into a different person. He became like the clan elders in the feudal period, stubborn, conservative and inflexible.
Bian Cheng repeatedly emphasized that sexual orientation is fixed before puberty and cannot be changed, but this only sped up his father’s arrangements for blind dates. It was as if letting him meet and interact with women more frequently could ‘pull him back onto the right path.’
Last week, since the girl went to the dinner as scheduled, he had no choice but to attend as well. The meal ended in an unhappy way. The next day, his father sent another photo of a girl.
The girl smiled with bright eyes, but he had a severe headache.
The orange clouds gradually darkened, and the campus lights began to turn on. Bian Cheng walked past a street corner when his phone started vibrating. He stopped at the traffic light, took out his phone, and saw an unfamiliar number on the screen, seemingly from China based on the format. He didn’t have many close friends or relatives, and they usually contacted him via WeChat. Who would call him from overseas?
Bian Cheng answered, “Who is this?”
The voice on the other side was a bit hoarse: “I’m Jiang Yunruo.”
Bian Cheng was quite confident in his memory, and he had never heard this name before. “You must have dialed the wrong number.”
The other side was silent for a moment, then the tone became uncertain: “Aren’t you Bian Cheng? Bian Huaiyuan’s son?”
Things started to seem strange. “Yes. Do you know my father?”
“You don’t know who I am?” The voice on the other side was filled with astonishment. “I’m Bian Huaiyuan’s second wife—oh, now ex-wife.”
The traffic light turned green, and the crowd around him began to move, but Bian Cheng stood still.
Wife? Second wife?
“You must be joking ba,” Bian Cheng said. “My father only got married once.”
The person on the other end was just as shocked as he was, repeatedly muttering, “What?” and “How could this be?” It was clearly her who took the initiative to talk to him, but now she was hesitating.
“I really didn’t expect this,” Jiang Yunruo finally said. “Bian Huaiyuan kept saying that you hated me, didn’t want to see me, wouldn’t let me into your home…Do you really not know who I am?”
Bian Cheng calmed down and took a deep breath. This incident was too shocking. His brain reflexively defended itself and refused to accept this fact: “You said you are my father’s legal partner. What proof do you have?”
“Wait a minute.” The sound of a drawer opening and closing was heard from the other side, and then Jiang Yunruo said, “I sent you a photo via text message.”
Bian Cheng pulled his phone away from his ear and opened the new message. A high-definition photo of a marriage certificate appeared on the screen—it was his father and another woman. The evidence was solid and irrefutable.
Looking further down, the marriage date was exactly one year after his mother’s death.
One year.
Bian Cheng remembered the scene at the funeral, where his father cried inconsolably, an eight-foot-tall man holding the coffin sobbing uncontrollably. The grief even surpassed that of his white-haired grandfather burying his black-haired child. When delivering the eulogy, his father had recounted, with heartfelt sincerity, the memories of their journey from college to marriage, moving the professors present to tears. After the cremation, he had held the urn and told Bian Cheng and his highly respected father-in-law that he would never have a second wife.
One year.
“I didn’t know anything about this,” Bian Cheng felt his voice was distant. “It’s really… unexpected…”
The other party was even more devastated than he was. “Then who have I been hating all these years?” The voice, sounding weathered, was completely different from the lively and youthful look in the wedding photo. “What am I… Oh my god…”
The other side fell into a vacuum-like silence, giving Bian Cheng a brief moment to catch his breath. This stepmother who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere instinctively made him feel hostile. “How did you and my father meet?”
The voice on the other side was dull and drifting, and it was obvious that she was also in a daze: “I was a waitress at Jingweizhai, the restaurant next to the University of Technology.”
Bian Cheng had no intention of making any comparisons, but this woman was a completely different type from his mother.
He opened the wedding photo again, zooming in, and looked at the ID number written on it. Jiang Yunruo had been only 20 when she got married.
A long time later, suddenly, Jiang Yunruo let out a laugh: “So he kept me hidden not because of you, his son, or your grandfather, but purely because he thought I was an embarrassment. If it weren’t for the child, he probably wouldn’t have married me at all.”
Today’s surprises really had been too much.
His father had not only gotten married a second time but also had a second child?
“You have a child too?”
“Of course. You don’t even know I exist, let alone about Ah Yu,” Jiang Yunruo said. “He thinks I’m an embarrassment, and he thinks my son is an embarrassment too. When we got divorced, he didn’t even fight for custody. He gave me money on top of everything, afraid that I would leave the child to him.”
Bian Cheng felt a sharp pain in his head. “What?”
In his memory, his father would accompany him to build Lego, play Sudoku, climb rocks, and play football. He was an impeccable father. Abandoning a child? This was totally inconsistent with his memory.
Everything was in chaos, and the past world had been turned upside down.
“That’s impossible.” He spoke with certainty, but there was a hint of doubt in his voice.
“Do you want to see our divorce agreement?” Jiang Yunruo’s voice was weak yet cruel. “It’s written very clearly. We are not allowed to appear in front of him, and we are not allowed to tell others that he has this son. Otherwise, the child support will be reduced by half.”
The message alert rang out, and it was a photo of the document. Bian Cheng only skimmed it before closing it. He couldn’t handle any more shocks.
“I originally called to tell you that we’ve divorced, so you don’t have to be on guard against me anymore,” Jiang Yunruo said. “But now… forget it. Goodbye.”
The call ended, and Bian Cheng stared at his phone screen, while the flow of traffic moved back and forth before him.
The red light turned green again, and in a daze, he crossed the crosswalk and returned to his apartment. The silent night descended upon the windowsill. He sat on the sofa and dialed his father’s number. It rang a few times before the other party picked up.
“Why haven’t you been replying to my messages?” Bian Huaiyuan said. “That girl is the daughter of Section Chief Liang from the Ministry of Science and Technology. Please be more polite…”
“You got married?”
The voice on the other side abruptly stopped. Then there was a long, deathly silence—or maybe it was only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
What was his father thinking during that time? How to phrase it? An excuse?
Then the other person said, “That woman told you?”
It was blame.
Bian Cheng did not answer. There were so few people who knew about this, so there was no need to guess who had told him. He went straight to the point: “Why have you been hiding it from me all this time?”
“I was afraid that you would mind, so I didn’t tell you,” Bian Huaiyuan said, “After all, back then…”
So he still remembered the vow he made. Bian Cheng had thought it was just something said casually.
“You’ve been abroad, you didn’t even come back for the New Year, so I thought, there’s no need to let you know…” Bian Huaiyuan sighed. “Alas, I was also afraid you’d overthink[footnote]多心 means oversensitive/suspicious but it some context it can also be interpreted as someone overanalyzing something so that’s why I’m using overthink here[/footnote] it.”
Bian Cheng’s temple twitched: “Are you afraid that I’d overthink, or that Grandpa would overthink?”
His father’s rise to being the dean of the School of Engineering at the University of Technology was due to his grandfather playing a crucial role in it. After losing his only daughter, with such a dutiful and considerate son-in-law, it was only natural that the family’s resources would be directed toward him.
Hiding a second marriage and the existence of a second son—was it really just about being afraid of the overthinking?
Even… even further…
If he got married and had a child with another woman a year after his deceased wife’s death, were his parents truly as loving and devoted as he had imagined? If from the very beginning…
He couldn’t think any further, because there was an abyss below. He closed Pandora’s box with a snap.
“You…” Bian Huaiyuan clearly noticed his doubts and his face changed color with anger. “What do you take your father for?”
“I don’t know,” Bian Cheng said, “After all, up until today, I always thought I was your only son.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. That woman’s child can’t compare to you.”
“Why?” Bian Cheng asked. “Because he doesn’t have a grandfather who is an academician?”
Is that it? Because he had a mother who was a professor, his father would play Legos with him and solve Sudoku puzzles. The other child didn’t have this, so he only had the fate of being expelled from the house?
This speculation was too dark it even startled Bian Huaiyuan. “What nonsense are you talking? Did that woman tell you this? Don’t listen to her sowing discord!”
“You hid your marriage from me back then because you wanted to become the dean,” Bian Cheng said. “Are you now forcing me to marry because you want to run for president?”
Bian Huaiyuan’s anger erupted: “Stop talking nonsense! I’m thinking about your happiness! I’m your father; I have to consider your future!”
“My future doesn’t need your concern,” Bian Cheng said. “You got married so freely; why do you have any say over me? Even if I marry a man, it has nothing to do with you.”
“What do you mean by that?” Bian Huaiyuan’s became tense “I’m already divorced; it’s all in the past. Are you going to turn against your father over an insignificant woman?”
Bian Cheng paused and said, “You have more than one son anyway.”
Before his father could yell again, he hung up the phone, leaned back on the sofa, and closed his eyes, tilting his head back.
When did things become like this? Where did the father who once held his hand when he had a fever and cheered for him from the audience go?
He felt a splitting headache and his phone vibrated twice. It was probably another message from his father, but he really didn’t want to read it.
However, the vibrations continued, and then the ringing sounded again, with no sign of giving up. Annoyed, he picked it up and saw it was from his only remaining friend.
“I’m in America!” Song Yuchi shouted on the phone. “Come out and have some fun!”
“I’m busy.”
“You haven’t started school yet, haven’t you? You can’t spare two days?” Song Yuchi said. “You’re living too boringly; you’ll end up making yourself sick. Hurry up! Las Vegas! Bars! Casinos!”
“Does Uncle Song know?”
“Don’t throw cold water on me,” Song Yuchi said. “I’m going crazy from studying for my doctorate, and I finally managed to sneak out for two days. Shouldn’t I celebrate? I found a super cool gay bar; come over and hang out with me. I’ve already booked the hotel for you!”
Good students who had been holding back for too long were really scary. Once they indulged themselves, they wandered from the laboratory to the bar.
Bian Cheng hung up the phone, opened his eyes, and looked at the empty room. The apartment was designed according to the principle of empty in, empty out, with only the essential furniture. A whiteboard hung in the center of the living room, with a line of formulas written on it alone. He usually enjoyed this kind of quiet and empty space, but now, the emptiness made his thoughts grow endlessly and he was on the verge of collapse.
He needed to fill this void with something else. He grabbed his wallet, bought the next available flight to Las Vegas, and went straight to the airport.
When he met up with Song Yuchi, it was already close to midnight. As soon as he put down his bag at the hotel, he was immediately pulled into a taxi. Song Yuchi told the driver the name of a bar and excitedly patted the front seat of the car.
When they arrived, they saw a long line of people waiting outside the door. They paid a bit of a tip to get in, stepped over the threshold, and were greeted by jewel-toned velvet booths and modern art paintings on the walls. Crystal snowflake-shaped chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and melodious lyrical songs floated in the air, creating a scene completely different from the noise outside.
Sitting down at the bar, Song Yuchi patted Bian Cheng’s shoulder and said earnestly, “I’ve done my homework. You like the Oriental charm style, right? There are a lot of Asians here, so you’re sure to find…”
Before he finished speaking, he suddenly pointed and said, “Look over there, at ten o’clock there are so many little white flowers… Hey, hey, hey, they are coming towards you.”
Bian Cheng looked up and saw a young man parting the crowd and walking toward him. The young man had a fair face, and his short-sleeved shirt and jeans were light blue. He looked very fresh, but his clothes seemed to be washed too many times and were a little pale.
Song Yuchi disappeared quietly.
Bian Cheng watched as the young man approached him, hesitating to speak, as if he were an inexperienced flirt. After a moment, the young man looked up and fixed his gaze on Bian Cheng’s eyes.
“Your irises have a hint of light gray,” the young man said. “What a beautiful mutation of HEAC2 and OCA2.”
Bian Cheng looked at him for a while and said, “It’s HERC2.”
The young man looked like a student who was called out in class to recite a text. Once interrupted, he couldn’t remember what to say next and just stared at him blankly.
“HERC2,” Bian Cheng said. “Human EpiRegulin Containing Protein 2.”
The young man’s face turned from pale to red, though it could also have been due to the lighting on the dance floor. He angrily muttered in a certain direction, “What a terrible idea! I knew using biology for a pick-up line was a bad idea for someone in the liberal arts!”
T/N: There are seven more chapters on university memories and i will try to update all the chapters by this week!
