Chapter Thirty-Two — Old Grievances and Past Kindness

Yishu, with nothing to occupy her, returned alone to Xiangtang Village. Standing on the large bridge at the entrance to the village, she could hear the distant thudding of pile drivers. The high-rise buildings were beginning to take shape, reaching about ten stories tall. Beneath the camphor trees, a few larvae clung to life, slowly draining the trees’ vitality. The only thing unchanged was the sight of the clouds, seen from the bridge stretching toward the horizon—still as dense and magnificent as ever.

The sun shone straight down from overhead, shrinking her shadow into a solid black sphere. Yishu walked on, cloaked in the shade of the trees, watching the leaves’ patchwork shadows create a black-and-white painting at her feet. She felt a faint sadness. The wind, when it came, was oppressively warm. How she missed those days when the breeze was cool and fresh.

Where her family’s house once stood was now flattened earth, dominated by a hulking gray cement structure. The spot where the banana tree had grown was buried under yellow sand and lime. Yishu deeply regretted not transplanting it when they moved; perhaps it could have survived much longer. She had unearthed that banana tree herself, so carefully, from a patch of grass behind a large tree at the foot of the mountain during her fifth-grade spring outing. But truly, such a large banana tree had nowhere to go.

The construction site was chaotic. Dust billowed violently in the harsh sunlight. Covering her mouth and nose, Yishu instinctively took a step back.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t block our way!” someone shouted.

Startled, Yishu stepped back diagonally. Several burly men, bare-chested and dripping with sweat, carried sandbags and cement sacks, wheeling a barrow of mortar past her.

“Here looking for your man?” joked a dark-skinned middle-aged man, sweat streaming from his body and hair. The white towel around his neck could have been wrung out for a hundred milliliters of water.

Yishu cast him a side glance, not dignifying him with a reply, and walked on.

“Hey, got shy, did she?” one of them laughed.

She followed the crumbling stone-paved path to the main road. The old stone was barely recognizable, hastily and crudely patched over with cement. Only its original orientation hinted at where it had once run.

No direct bus ran from Xiangtang Village to Jinlan Community. She had to ride three stops to Yehe Road and then walk a long way. The roadside trees looked listless, but the cicadas sang cheerily in the heat.

“Su Yishu?”

A hesitant voice drifted up behind her.

“Are you Su Yishu?” This time the question was tinged with certainty.

Yishu was fishing for her keys in her shoulder bag, preparing to unlock the door. She fumbled at the keyhole but couldn’t quite fit the key in. Who could be so bored as to bother her?

The old security guard at the entrance to the aging complex paid no attention to who came or went. No matter their background, everyone was let through.

Yishu turned, her irritation giving way to surprise. It was him! Yihui’s high school classmate!

“So you really are Su Yishu!” he exclaimed, just as surprised.

“What do you want with me?” Yishu asked bluntly, not bothering with niceties. “Are you here to finish bullying my brother, since you didn’t do enough the last time?”

“That sissy brother of yours doesn’t interest me. I’m here for you this time,” he said, posturing as if seeking justice.

“What could I possibly have to say to you?” Yishu shot back, glaring.

“Maybe nothing between us, but…” He paused. “My sister’s business has everything to do with you.”

“Your sister?”

“My sister is Tang Dai.”

Yishu looked at him anew, startled. His name was Tang Chao, Yihui’s classmate—a prominent figure in their class, even the whole school. Their first encounter traced back to March. That day, Yihui’s homeroom teacher, Chu Yixu, called Yishu, saying her brother had been in a fight at school and she absolutely had to come in person or he would be expelled.

Yishu was deeply worried. Her first instinct was that Yihui had been bullied. She believed in her brother’s character; he would never strike unless gravely provoked, even persecuted.

“Ms. Chu, what happened to my brother?” Yishu stumbled into the office.

“Ask him yourself.” Chu Yixu pointed to Yihui, who leaned against the wall. “He hit someone and won’t admit it, and now he’s crying here for me to see.”

Yishu’s blood boiled. This teacher was nothing like a teacher should be—her words sharp and mean-spirited.

Suppressing her anger, Yishu approached Yihui and examined every wound. A scratch on his left cheek, a coin-sized bruise on his right temple, cat-like claw marks on his neck, countless cuts and bruises on his hands and arms. Yishu’s heart ached. “Tell me who hurt you. I’ll stand up for you. We don’t have to swallow this. Our lives aren’t so cheap that we deserve to be tormented by shameless people. And we don’t have to put up with anyone turning the truth upside down.”

Chu Yixu understood the veiled rebuke. “Miss Su, your brother hit someone first. I called you to solve the problem, not make it worse.”

“I am solving the problem, Ms. Chu,” Yishu glared back. “Can’t you see that? My brother is battered—do you, as his teacher, really not care? Even if, for the sake of argument, he did strike first, have you investigated what led up to it? Have you looked into the circumstances? And why hasn’t anyone taken him to the clinic to treat his wounds?” Yishu was indignant. When it came to her only family, she feared nothing. Anyone who hurt him would answer to her. She pressed on, “So what do you plan to do about it? How will you resolve this and follow up?”

Yishu’s impassioned words left Chu Yixu flustered. “With attitudes like yours, it’s no wonder teachers can’t manage students these days.”

Yishu scoffed. If this was her idea of managing, no wonder things turned out this way; if she managed any harder, there’d be nothing left of her students.

“I’d like to know, where is the student who claims to have been hit?” Yishu steadied her emotions. “Why not call him here so we can clear things up face to face?”

Chu Yixu pursed her lips and grunted, “Su Yihui, go call Tang Chao.”

Yihui stood in the corner, ignoring her.

“Didn’t you hear the teacher? Go call him,” Chu Yixu’s tone grew harsh. “You see, you…”

No wonder he’s always bullied, Yishu thought.

“I won’t,” Yihui said, each word as heavy as lead.

Chu Yixu’s face fell instantly.

Yihui, with a thoughtful look, raised his head. “Ms. Chu, may I ask, if someone is bullied long enough, if someone never fights back, does that make them a punching bag by default? And then if one day, the punching bag finally retaliates, is that suddenly a crime?”

Chu Yixu’s face was expressionless. “Why doesn’t he bully others? Why do people only target you? You should look for the fault in yourself, not always blame others.”

Yihui was speechless. He wasn’t good at arguing. Just now, he’d mustered all his courage to speak his mind.

By now, Yishu understood what had happened and could restrain herself no longer. “Ms. Chu, tell me, why is it that no one else is bullied, yet someone picks on my brother again and again? Is that not the other person’s fault? I can’t accept your reasoning. As a teacher, you should mind your words! Such logic is tantamount to condoning wrongdoing!”

Their heated argument must have carried into the adjoining classroom, for Tang Chao soon swaggered into the office.

That was the first time Yishu and Tang Chao locked eyes.

Tang Chao was tall—at least 1.85 meters by a rough guess. His build was well-proportioned, neither too thin nor too bulky. His short hair was crisp and neat, setting off his striking, finely-chiseled features. If he simply stood quietly at a distance, and you observed him from afar, he could have been the subject of a beautiful painting.

Yishu saw he was unscathed and stepped forward. “Where exactly are you hurt?” she asked. Then, gesturing sorrowfully, “And look at my brother’s injuries.”

Tang Chao glanced at her, then raised his wrist and rolled up his sleeve to show a bite mark on his arm. “Does this count as an injury?”

A mere bite mark—compared to Yihui’s battered body, it was nothing.

So the beautiful surface hid such ugliness within. Like dazzling mandrakes and tulips—lovely to look at, but deadly to touch.

“How did you get that?” Yishu asked, weariness in her voice.

“You know perfectly well—it was your brother Su Yihui who bit me!” Tang Chao arched his brows and let his sleeve fall.

“Then why did he bite you?” Yishu pressed on.

“Why not ask him?” Tang Chao replied indifferently.

“You’re one of those involved, and you claim to be the victim, so you have the obligation to explain what happened,” Yishu insisted, leaving him no room to evade.

“I just said a few words, and he jumped up and bit me,” Tang Chao said lightly.

“A few words?” Yihui let out a hollow, bitter laugh. “A few barks, you mean! What you said was hardly human!”

“What did he say?” Yishu moved in front of Yihui.

Tears streamed down Yihui’s face as his pent-up emotions burst the dam. “He… He said that as a man, I’m nothing like a man, that I deserve to have no father, no mother…” he sobbed, his words broken.

Yishu could imagine all the rest. For a boy who’d grown up without a father and lost his mother in elementary school, the thin, fragile membrane around his heart shattered at the slightest touch.

Why tear open old wounds and pour salt on the bleeding flesh? What satisfaction could such cruelty bring?

Yishu exhaled slowly and deeply. “Yihui, let’s get your wounds checked.” She helped him up and turned to the others. “Some things are destined never to be resolved fairly. I just hope everyone can leave each other in peace.”

As she walked away, Tang Chao watched her departing figure. The hardness in his expression began to melt. Su Yishu—she truly was a little different from the rest.