The adults decided to enhance the sense of ritual in having meals. They poured the dishes from the takeout boxes into plates, arranged them on the table, and made it look like a proper four dishes and one soup meal. The food from a decent restaurant’s takeout was quite good, and for a while, only the sound of focused eating could be heard.
The small dining room was filled with a harmonious and joyful atmosphere until Bian Cheng’s phone rang.
He answered the call, and the moment he heard the voice, he frowned, put down his chopsticks, and said to the two confused faces, “You guys eat first.”
He walked to the balcony, and the voice on the other end of the line became clearer: “The principal of Xingcheng called me. Why did you report some campus bullying to him?”
When Bian Cheng adopted Jiang Yu, he explained to outsiders that he was a child of distant relatives. The principal likely contacted Bian Huaiyuan because he knew about Bian Cheng’s background.
Bian Cheng said, “It’s nothing.”
“Is it about that kid?” Bian Huaiyuan asked. “Was he hurt? Was it serious?”
Hearing his father inquire about the injuries, Bian Cheng felt slightly relieved. After all, he was still his biological son, so he had some affection for him: “The physical injuries weren’t very serious.”
“Then that’s it! You couldn’t even get an injury report; what’s the point of making a fuss?”
His heart sank again. As expected. “Since you don’t want to raise him, then don’t interfere in his matters.”
“You’re about to blow this up to the media; how can I not intervene?” His father’s tone tightened. “Having an idiot in the family—is that something you feel proud of and want to broadcast to the whole world?!”
“Is that the point?” Bian Cheng’s anger flared up.
“I’ve told you a long time ago not to send him to school. What achievements could he possibly make?” Bian Huaiyuan said. “When you adopted him, didn’t I say it already? Rent him a place, hire a nanny, and don’t let him go out. You didn’t listen and insisted on sending him to some private secondary school. Isn’t this just asking for trouble?”
“He doesn’t want to be cooped up at home. He wants to interact with kids his age,” Bian Cheng said. “My mistake doesn’t mean you’re right.”
“This school isn’t working out. Just withdraw him—what’s the fuss?” Bian Huaiyuan warned. “Don’t even think about going to reporters or the media. If any news leaks out, I’ll be the first to suppress it.”
Bian Cheng hadn’t expected his father to stand by his side, but he also hadn’t expected him to side with the school.
“That’s enough,” Bian Cheng said. “You still have your retirement matters to deal with. Don’t waste your energy on us.”
“What retireme—”
Before the other party could finish questioning, Bian Cheng put down the phone and walked back to the living room, his footsteps much heavier than when he had left. Jiang Yu had nearly finished eating by now and was carefully scooping up every grain of rice left in his bowl.
Wen Di had overheard this conversation and, seeing Bian Cheng’s gloomy expression, he said, “I can give you a sentence that’s very suitable for this moment.”
“What?”
Wen Di cleared his throat and solemnly said, “I dare not offend my respectable grandmother, but a virtuous mother may sometimes give birth to an unworthy son.”[footnote]This one I translated literally but it’s from the Tempest Act 1, Scene 2, the original English line would be ‘I should sin to think but nobly of my grandmother. Good wombs have borne bad sons.’[/footnote]
This line was so exquisite that Wen Di couldn’t help but admire it after saying it. But thinking about how Bian Cheng, this guy, wouldn’t appreciate Shakespeare, he gave him a resentful glance before asking, “Will your father have any impact on this matter?”
“No,” Bian Cheng replied. “He has other major issues to deal with and no time to bother with us.”
Wen Di recalled the snippets he had overheard. “Retirement?”
“En. The official announcement hasn’t come yet, but it’s as good as confirmed.”
“How do you know about it ahead of time?” Wen Di asked. “Is it related to you?”
“It has something to do with grandpa,” Bian Cheng said. “He’s the type who saves his revenge for the end.”
Bian Cheng briefly explained some of the factional conflicts within the university. Wen Di vaguely understood. The old academician, after enjoying his son-in-law’s filial devotion, had his own protégé pull him down from power. A heartless old man who didn’t care if chaos followed after his death.
Then Bian Cheng remembered something. He took out a pendant from an envelope and handed it to Jiang Yu. “This is given to you by the classmate whose name is difficult to write.”
The pendant was small, with a thin silver chain attached to a round metal locket. Opening the clasp on the locket’s lid revealed that it was completely empty.
Wen Di stretched his neck to take a closer look, recalling a TV drama he had seen. “Oh, this is one of those… picture lockets.” He pointed at the metal locket. “You can put a photo inside.”
Before he finished speaking, Jiang Yu had already run to the bedroom. After a short while, he returned with a passport-sized photo and looked at the pendant with a troubled expression, as if pondering the next step.
Bian Cheng took the photo, carefully trimmed its edges with scissors, opened the locket, and fit the photo inside.
The photo showed a smiling young woman. Wen Di guessed that she was Jiang Yu’s mother.
“Why did he give this to you?” Bian Cheng asked.
Jiang Yu thought for a moment and said, “I have a bad memory.”
The adults were a little confused.
“Mom will come to pick me up, but it may take a long time,” Jiang Yu said, hanging the pendant around his neck. “I have a bad memory. I forget words, I forget formulas. If too much time passes, and I forget what mom looks like, what should I do?”
Wen Di watched as he tested opening and closing the locket, making sure he could see the photo. Once satisfied, he carefully put the pendant under his shirt.
Bian Cheng was silent for a moment before asking, “Do you want to go thank him? I’m going to the school tomorrow; I can take you along.”
Surprisingly, Jiang Yu shook his head. “He said not to talk to him at school.”
Wen Di didn’t know how to comment on the whole situation, hesitating several times but ultimately saying nothing.
Bian Cheng asked Wen Di: “Are you going tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Wen Di said. “How can I miss such a lively event? But now that you have the photo, do those recordings still matter? Exposing this online might have a wide reach, but the attention on the victim and the perpetrator will be the same. I don’t think it’s a good idea to let Jiang Yu get involved in an internet war of words.”
Bian Cheng looked at him. “So what do you plan to do?”
Wen Di thought for a moment and then smiled. “I have a Plan B.”
The meeting between both parties was finally set in a conference room in the administrative building.
Yang Tianhua’s father was much like what Wen Di had imagined a corporate big shot to be. Dressed in a tailored suit, standing tall and upright. Though his meticulously tailored clothes couldn’t hide the physical changes brought on by age, the air of superiority redirected attention away from his physique.
From the moment he appeared, the big shot exuded a faint irritation. He sat across from Bian Cheng and said to the vice principal in charge of mediation, “Let’s make this quick; I have a very important meeting right after this.”
Just as Bian Cheng was about to speak, the other party interrupted him, obviously wanting to control the rhythm in his own hands: “I’ve heard about the matter. Name your price.”
Last time, Bian Cheng had already stated that he wouldn’t be bought off with money, so the couple across the table, along with their lawyer, were on high alert, ready to hear him argue his case and then break down his psychological defenses.
Then Wen Di said, “Alright.”
The sudden capitulation left even the vice principal stunned.
“You’re willing to settle?” the lawyer on the other side confirmed in disbelief.
“Yes,” Wen Di said. “As long as the amount is sufficient.”
“Mr. Bian said yesterday…”
“That was his stance,” Wen Di said. “The recording is in my hands. I convinced him.”
Yang Tianhua’s father glanced at the lawyer beside him. The lawyer, in confusion, pulled a check from the folder and slid it across the table to the other side.
Wen Di glanced at the check, his eyebrows raised high. He exchanged a look with Bian Cheng before slipping the check into his pocket and signing the settlement agreement.
“You’re more reasonable than I expected,” Yang Tianhua’s father said, glancing at his wife. “It seems my wife exaggerated things.”
Wen Di felt that, in their eyes, they were probably the same as the employees who were causing trouble or rebellion and any concession on their part was seen as granting a great favor. If they rejected the offer, it would be asking for too much.
“Since the issue is settled, we’ll take our leave,” Bian Cheng said, standing up. Then, as if remembering something, he pulled out an envelope. “By the way, this is a settlement gift for both of you.”
He slid the envelope across the table. Yang Tianhua’s mother, confused, turned it over, and photos spilled out. She looked down, and her face color changed abruptly.
The picture showed Yang Tianhua’s father with another woman in a shopping mall, the woman holding a luxury shopping bag in one hand and a boy’s hand in the other.
The other photo showed the new woman and the new child.
“Mrs. Yang, you’d better check Mr. Yang’s will,” Wen Di said. “Your son is in trouble, and he can’t even bother to come to the school. But he’s very eager to celebrate the birthday of his mistress’s son.”
The couple on the other side struggled to control their body language, striving to maintain the face of the upper class. Only the trembling of their cheeks could reveal the turbulent emotions in their hearts.
“Make sure you deal with this properly,” Yang Tianhua’s mother said. “If these bastards try to fight for inheritance…”
“Do you have the face to tell me that?” Yang Tianhua’s father picked up another photo, showing his wife hugging a young man at a gym. “You spend money to chase after another man, and you don’t even look at how wrinkled your face has become?”
“What, you want a divorce?” Yang Tianhua’s mother sneered. “Fine, give me half of the shares, and I’ll leave.”
Wen Di watched the bloody story of the rich family explode with satisfaction, and left the crime scene like a detective who had revealed the truth.
It was a pleasant sunny day, just like yesterday, but the sunlight seemed even brighter. The forsythia flowers at the entrance of the administrative building bloomed brilliantly, eager to burn through Beijing’s fleeting spring.
The two walked up the steps. By the flowerbed, Wen Di bumped into Yang Tianhua, who was hurriedly rushing upstairs with a phone in his hand. Upon seeing the familiar faces of the two adults, he stopped, his youthful face twisted with anger.
“Did you guys do this?” The photo in his hand had already been crumpled beyond recognition. “The entire grade knows about it!”
Early in the morning, a student sitting in the front row found these photos on the podium. In just one short break, the news spread throughout the entire second-year class. He didn’t know how many students had these things saved on their phones. Every time he passed by a classroom, countless pairs of eyes looked at him with interest, and many people whispered softly.
In just half the morning, he felt like he was going to explode.
Wen Di leaned against the flower bed, looking at the boy on the verge of collapse. “I’ve seen many people like you,” he said, “always talking about who my dad is, who my mom is, how much money my family has. Do you know what I think every time I hear those words?”
Yang Tianhua, with bloodshot eyes, stared at him.
“I think, so you know too,” Wen Di said. “You know your abilities don’t match your background, so you can only keep talking about your family’s wealth. However, considering how many children your dad has,” Wen Di glanced at him. “With your IQ, I don’t think you’ll ever be the heir. You might be kicked out by your brothers and sisters one day.”
Yang Tianhua didn’t have as good self-control as his parents. He clenched his fists and rushed forward, but Bian Cheng easily stopped him.
Wen Di pointed upwards. “Your parents are in the conference room on the third floor. I think it’s better for you to go and deal with your family issues first. If no one talks to them, they’ll really get a divorce.”
Yang Tianhua hesitated for a moment between facing two adults alone and saving his family. He gritted his teeth and turned, running up the stairs.
Never chase a desperate enemy. After a decisive strike, Wen Di reached out his hand to his comrade beside him. Bian Cheng thought he wanted to hold his hand, but the hand was simply giving him a high five.
Since the whole school knew about the family scandal, Yang Tianhua would probably drop out of the school. Even if the methods were different, they still reached the same final outcome.
They walked toward the parking lot, deciding never to step foot in this school again.
From the beginning of the bullying incident up until just now, Wen Di had one question. When he saw the Cadillac’s body, he finally asked, “Why didn’t you want them to apologize?”
Bian Cheng had made many demands to the lawyer and Yang’s parents, some of his own and others decided after discussing with Wen Di, but he had never asked for an apology.
“I don’t want to force my father to be a good father to Jiang Yu either,” Bian Cheng said.
Wen Di looked at him. “So, what’s the reason?”
Bian Cheng remained silent for a long time. Just when Wen Di thought he was going to leave this reason as an eternal unsolved mystery, he spoke up. “Mercy is not forced.”
Wen Di paused for a moment. Suddenly, it felt like he had heard the first breath of spring wind breaking through the ice on the lake. Soon, this crack would stretch in all directions, and eventually, the entire ice layer would collapse.
“Yes,” he said. “Mercy is not forced.”
The author has something to say:
I dare not offend my respectable grandmother, but a virtuous mother may sometimes give birth to an unworthy son.[footnote]Again, this is literally translated but it’s from the Tempest Act 1, Scene 2, the original English line would be ‘I should sin to think but nobly of my grandmother. Good wombs have borne bad sons.[/footnote] – The Tempest
Mercy is not forced, it descends from heaven like dew upon the earth; it brings happiness not only to those who receive it but also to those who give it.[footnote]Literally translated. The original English line is ‘The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.[/footnote] – The Merchant of Venice
T/N: Title is from The Merchant of Venice, Act 4, Scene 1. The literal translation for the title ‘慈悲不是出于勉强’ would be ‘Mercy does not come out of reluctance.’
