The Grade 12 teachers’ office was on the third floor of the Second Teaching Building. Tong Xilin leaned on the hallway railing, looking outside. The angle of this building perfectly aligned with the school gate—and also perfectly faced the howling wind tunnel. This year’s winter truly was too cold.
The Lantern Festival sky was still a woolly grey. He zipped his padded jacket all the way up, burying his chin, and stamped his aching right shin.
Zhou Qi, standing next to him, draped an arm over Tong Xilin’s shoulder, joining him in leaning on the railing. Tong Xilin rolled his eyes to glance at him. Past Zhou Qi’s shoulder, Eye-Roller Guy was planted at the other end of the railing, seemingly trying to keep a ten-meter distance, still rubbing a bruise at the corner of his mouth.
“Ignore him.” Zhou Qi turned Tong Xilin’s head, his voice pitched just loud enough for all three to hear clearly. “Talking crap.”
“Enough already!” The Uncle Dormitory Manager, sleeves of his coat folded over his arms, barked from behind them. “Until your Head Teachers get here, you all quiet down. Can’t even let a person have peace during a holiday…”
Zhou Qi’s kick had been too solid, directly sending Eye-Roller Guy flying two meters back, sweeping over a clatter of bowls, chopsticks, mugs, and basins. The massive racket drew people from other dorms who hadn’t gone home. By the time someone fetched the dorm manager, Zhou Qi had grabbed Eye-Roller Guy by the collar and was swinging fists into his face. Along with Tong Xilin, caught in the middle trying to break it up, all three were promptly hauled to the dorm manager’s office. Calls were made to their respective Head Teachers to come handle the situation.
“You okay?” Tong Xilin, naturally, paid no attention to Eye-Roller Guy, asking Zhou Qi in a low voice.
“I’m fine.” Zhou Qi rubbed his right leg. Eye-Roller Guy certainly hadn’t just stood there taking hits; he’d returned a few kicks too. It actually hurt a bit.
The teachers from both classes arrived together. Tong Xilin recognized Eye-Roller Guy’s Head Teacher—Class 13’s physics teacher, Teacher Lai.
“Who was fighting whom?” As soon as he reached the third-floor staircase, Teacher Lai raised his voice. “Huh? Wu Zihao, you can fight too?”
Having roomed together for a week, Tong Xilin finally learned Eye-Roller Guy’s name. Wu Zihao, who had been silent before, now stiffened his face, and pointed a finger towards where Tong Xilin and Zhou Qi were. “The two of them ganged up on me.”
“Bullshit, you say that again?!” Zhou Qi was already fed up. Hearing him spout such nonsense sent his temper straight through the roof. Neck straining, he made to lunge over and grab him. “Did Tong Xilin even touch a hair on your head?! Are you just asking for it?!”
The Head Teacher rushed over, shouting, positioning herself between the two students. Seeing Tong Xilin there, she looked quite surprised, then focused her gaze solely on Zhou Qi. “Why did you fight?”
“Ask him what he said!” Zhou Qi’s hand practically shot over the Head Teacher’s head, pointing straight at Wu Zihao’s nose. The two Head Teachers, along with the spectating Dorm Manager, all turned in unison to look at Wu Zihao.
Wu Zihao, however, was utterly silent now, his mouth clamped shut, playing dead.
“You tell me.” The Head Teacher, losing patience, turned back to Zhou Qi. “What did he say that made you beat him up? Can you stop causing me trouble?!”
“He fucking—” Zhou Qi was practically apoplectic. Even a student with his poor record, who skipped class and caused trouble regularly, couldn’t bring himself to repeat it in front of Tong Xilin.
“If you’re going to say it, say it properly,” Teacher Lai cut in, knowing Zhou Qi’s reputation and moving to defend his own student. “What kind of student, dirty words jumping out the first thing you say.”
“He said I was born but not raised properly.” Tong Xilin grabbed Zhou Qi’s arm, interrupting the mutual interrogation between the three adults with a remarkably calm tone.
“Born but not raised.” It was actually a fairly common insult in fights. Far worse things were said every day. But spoken by Tong Xilin, the spacious hallway instantly fell silent. All the Grade 12 teachers knew Tong Xilin from Class 7—the kid who transferred from a small southern town only in his final year, yet consistently ranked among the top of the grade in every exam. So they all also knew his file—knew his parents were gone, that he lived only with a young uncle.
Tong Xilin kept his eyes fixed on Wu Zihao the entire time he spoke, watching him turn his head away, rubbing his nose guiltily. Realizing Wu Zihao knew. Knew full well, which was exactly why he’d deliberately spat out those words.
“Let’s all go into the office first.” The Head Teacher glanced at Tong Xilin, took out her keys, and turned to unlock the door. “Call your parents. We’ll resolve this after everyone arrives.”
Zhou Qi was completely used to having his parents called. Anyway, they were out of town right now and couldn’t do anything to him. He didn’t care—an earful of scolding over the phone was painless. Tong Xilin, however, absolutely did not want Kong Ji to come. At least, not over something like this, not after so long in this cold war.
But the one who reacted the most strongly was neither of them—it was the bruised and battered Wu Zihao.
“Can you please not tell my mom?” All his arrogance from the dorm vanished completely. He pleaded in a subdued voice to the two teachers, “I can apologize to Tong Xilin.”
“You damn well better apologize.” Watching his cowardly act, Zhou Qi only cursed harder. “And your mom definitely needs to come. How else can you prove you even have one?”
Wu Zihao’s whole body stiffened, fists clenched, glaring at Zhou Qi.
“Shut your mouth!” The Head Teacher had a massive headache, but every teacher protects their own students. She stood on Tong Xilin’s side. After contacting Kong Ji, she urged Teacher Lai to notify Wu Zihao’s parent.
Wu Zihao’s mother’s reaction upon arriving was beyond anyone’s expectations. She was a middle-aged woman who looked very worn. Her hair was permed in an outdated style, the ends dry and yellowed. Her clothes were styles from years past. Although it was apparent she had tried to fix up her appearance, the aura she naturally carried made her effort only highlight an irrepressible coarseness. Within that coarseness, there was a dense, undeniable intensity, pride, and stubbornness.
She strode forcefully into the office. Seeing the bruises on Wu Zihao’s face, she didn’t ask a single question. Raising her hand, she delivered a crisp, loud slap.
Slap! Wu Zihao’s face was knocked sideways. He immediately lowered his head deeply, remaining silent. Tong Xilin was stunned. He and Zhou Qi exchanged wide-eyed glances.
“Aiyah!” The two teachers hurriedly rushed over to pull her back. “Don’t hit the child. We called you here to explain the situation. Let’s talk it out calmly.”
“I’m sorry, teachers.” Wu Zihao’s mother brushed her hair back with a rough hand, steadying her breathing and anger. But her next words came out as a timid question: “Will a student fight go on his file? It won’t affect his future job prospects or civil service exams, will it?”
“His dad and I divorced early. I’ve raised him alone, working day and night just to put him through school. He’s my only child. Everything in the future depends on him. He’s usually not like this, very well-behaved, good grades too. Please don’t give him a black mark, okay?”
She asked in a flustered, urgent rush, completely disregarding why her child had fought, nor caring who he’d hit. In between, fueled by a bitter mix of anger at his failure, she kicked Wu Zihao again. The two teachers couldn’t even get a word in, utterly dumbfounded, having to constantly block her from hitting him further. Watching this scene, Tong Xilin felt a strange, complex mix of absurdity and emotion.
“Holy crap…” Zhou Qi whispered into his ear. He found it beyond comprehension. “So suffocating.”
Two knocks—tap tap—sounded at the door, halting the farce unfolding in the office. Tong Xilin turned his head and met Kong Ji’s dark eyes.
“The other student’s guardian is here,” the Head Teacher and Teacher Lai quickly seized the moment to placate Wu Zihao’s mother. “Let’s understand the situation first. Talk slowly.”
Kong Ji didn’t acknowledge their words. He walked straight up to Tong Xilin, lifted his chin, and examined his face carefully.
“Are you hurt?” he asked Tong Xilin.
Tong Xilin shook his head, then pointed to Zhou Qi. “Zhou Qi helped me out.”
“And you?” Kong Ji looked at Zhou Qi.
“Hello, Uncle.” Zhou Qi was about to say he was fine, but worried the mother-son duo might try to extort money, he pointed to his own thigh. “Took a couple of kicks.”
Kong Ji nodded. He released Tong Xilin’s face and only then turned and walked towards the office desk. He didn’t acknowledge the Head Teacher’s polite greeting. His movements were unhurried and casual as he pulled out the chair behind the desk and sat down, calmly waiting for the teachers and the other parent to explain. He didn’t even glance at Wu Zihao.
Aura was a strange thing. Not everyone possessed it. Some people, by simply appearing, could transform a chaotic scene into one of stability. Wu Zihao’s mother finally quieted down. Teacher Lai offered her a chair. She took a deep breath, straightened her clothes, and also sat.
The matter was actually very simple. So simple that after Tong Xilin understood the whole picture, he found it absurd. Wu Zihao’s hostility stemmed from a parents’ meeting held by Teacher Lai. Teacher Lai had used Tong Xilin as a typical example to tell all the parents in his class: there’s a student in another class named Tong Xilin. He has no parents. There’s no one watching him or pushing him to study. Yet he consistently scores excellently and steadily on every exam. Others probably forgot it immediately after. Wu Zihao’s mother was different. A divorced marriage and her strong-willed personality had pushed her expectations and need for control over Wu Zihao to the extreme. Returning home from the meeting, she immediately scolded Wu Zihao, saying: Others don’t even have a mother! At least you have one. If someone else can do well, why can’t you?
A twisted family bred a twisted character. The moment Wu Zihao laid eyes on Tong Xilin in the dorm, it was practically inevitable that he would redirect the pressure his mother placed on him into hostility towards Tong Xilin.
“Sorry,” he mumbled under the direction of the two teachers, apologizing to Tong Xilin through gritted teeth.
Tong Xilin just looked at him calmly.
“You’re really something else.” Zhou Qi had simply laughed in disbelief.
“Actually, it’s not that huge of a deal,” Teacher Lai chuckled awkwardly from the side. “Grade 12, pressure’s high. Wu Zihao is usually a decent kid. His words were way out of line, but getting beaten up is also a fact…”
“Is that so.” Kong Ji, who had been silent until then, finally spoke, turning his gaze towards Teacher Lai. “Using a child’s trauma as a means to motivate other students,” his tone was icy. “Does the school find that appropriate?”
Teacher Lai froze, exchanging glances with the Head Teacher, momentarily at a loss for words.
“Words can be heavy, but he didn’t throw the first punch, did he?!” Wu Zihao’s mother immediately became sharp, rising to grab Wu Zihao’s face and show it to Kong Ji. “At the most critical stage of Grade 12, what if you’d hurt our child?!”
“Medical expenses, I’ll cover them. Help get his brain treated.” Kong Ji still didn’t raise his eyelids. “The apology is not accepted. I only have one request,” he stood up, gave the Head Teacher one last look, then came over and took Tong Xilin by the hand, walking out. “Move that student to a different dormitory.”
“They will never be part of the same world.”
Tong Xilin didn’t pull his hand away, nor did he look back. Ignoring whatever the Head Teacher might still want to say, he followed Kong Ji and walked out.
