Diary (Part Two)
During his final six months in China, Sizhao’s health had more or less recovered. Aside from his hair being a little too short, no outsider could tell that he had once suffered a serious illness.
Once autumn arrived, he would be going to the United States for university.
It was hard to say whether Xunli’s current level was really good enough for the second year of middle school. But his father felt that staying at home for another year might not necessarily make things better. He might as well send him to school and let him experience normal group life.
His father intended to send Xunli to a boarding school, with him coming home once a week. He had probably reached the end of his patience with the boy. This kid had a backbone of iron. He wasn’t afraid of being scolded, nor was he afraid of being beaten. When pushed to the limit, he could even say things that made people so angry they nearly had heart attacks.
This rebellious son was personally brought back by his father, and Sizhao suddenly thought of another rather inappropriate proverb: “It’s easy to invite a god, but hard to send one away.”
There was nowhere to send him. If he didn’t repeat a year, they would at least have to endure him for another four years before they could send him away to university.
Fortunately, Xunli had gradually gotten used to life in Nanshi. If a person didn’t have particularly high expectations for himself, and all he cared about was eating, drinking, playing, and having fun, then he had already figured out the tricks of a spoiled rich kid’s life. There was no way he could be shortchanged when it came to food, clothing, or the things he used.
It was only the playing part that was a problem. He could only play by himself. Online games and video game consoles were out too. His father wouldn’t allow them. His father had always held an unrealistic idea, believing that sooner or later Xunli would grow up to be like Sizhao: outstanding in his studies, able to speak two foreign languages, with an SAT score close to perfect, good at sports and musical instruments. Winning prizes in competitions would be a common occurrence.
It simply required a process. If Xunli were raised the way Sizhao had been raised, he would become just as outstanding.
Sizhao was too lazy to even mention how far this kid was from him. Even if intelligence were taken out of the equation, their temperaments were completely opposite. Xunli’s goals in life were closer to those of a Neanderthal. As long as he could survive in this world, and live a little more comfortably while he was at it, that was good enough. More than good enough. There was no way he would use self-discipline to improve himself, set goals, and strive for achievements more outstanding than anyone else’s.
Though they were blood brothers living under the same roof, Sizhao and Xunli left each other alone. Unless necessary, they did not speak. There was nothing to say, and neither of them knew what to say.
That was what he thought, and that was how he acted, but in reality, it was difficult to operate that way.
Near the end of the middle school term, Xunli got into a fight at school, and the teachers called his parents. HIs father was away on a business trip and couldn’t return, so he sent his secretary to meet with the teachers at the school.
The secretary went in the morning and came back afterward, informing President Liu that the matter could be settled privately by paying compensation. Xunli had hit someone at school. He attended an international school, where the students were all from wealthy or prominent families, and their family circumstances were roughly comparable. If the matter was handled poorly and gave anyone something to hold against them, things would become troublesome.
Whether it was fighting, hitting someone, or getting hit, Sizhao was not surprised by any of it. It was only that the school teachers repeatedly insisted that a parent had to be present, that they had to meet face-to-face, and that they could not send a secretary or nanny in their place. Otherwise, there would be no educational effect.
Sizhao suspected that even if his father were in the country, he wouldn’t personally go to the school. It wasn’t exactly something to be proud of. After the matter went around in circles, it somehow ended up falling on eighteen-year-old Sizhao’s head.
After the little attic bookshelf incident, Sizhao and Xunli had not spoken for more than a month. This time, whether as the one coming to his rescue or the one being rescued, neither of them was particularly willing.
In the school’s conference room, five half-grown boys sat there obediently, each with injuries on his face. Xunli had a large bruise over his cheekbone.
The fight had started with a verbal altercation, and Xunli had been the first to throw a punch.
Although the homeroom teacher had said not to send secretaries or nannies, he felt that most of the adults among these parents were still not immediate family members. Some children had brought their maternal aunts or uncles. Even so, Sizhao was still the youngest “parent” there. The children’s actual parents were all too busy with their careers to spare the time, and they couldn’t bring themselves to attend this kind of parents’ meeting.
“One against four?” Sizhao suddenly asked.
“No... three against two.” The homeroom teacher was in the middle of listing the seriousness of the fighting and its far-reaching consequences. He was interrupted by Sizhao for a moment, then continued.
Paying compensation was not a problem. That was why Sizhao had come in the first place. But when it came time to apologize, the parents had to bow their heads and apologize as well as the students who had caused the trouble.
Sizhao immediately didn’t want to do it anymore. If he had known this was how it would be, he wouldn’t have come either.
Xunli sat there expressionlessly, listening as the homeroom teacher went through the severity and audacity of his behavior. It felt as though today’s matter had already been officially labeled and settled, and there was nothing more to say.
Then he saw his brother suddenly say, “No. We can’t settle it like this.”
“Then how would you like to handle it?”
“Pull up the surveillance footage. Watch it from beginning to end.”
“It really was Liu Xunli who threw the first punch. He admitted it himself. Do we still need to look at the footage?”
The other parents began to object as well. Was there really any justification for hitting someone?
“In a three-against-two fight, there has to be a reason. You said it started with a verbal altercation, but what exactly was said?”
Sizhao suddenly refused to let the matter go, leaving the homeroom teacher somewhat at a loss. “I asked about it. They said it was boys comparing themselves to each other, who had the latest things and who didn’t. Just some trivial matter like that.”
The fight had come much later than Sizhao had expected. He had thought that once Xunli entered school, it would take only three days before he caused trouble serious enough for the school to call his parents. He hadn’t expected him to make it almost all the way to the end of the term before getting into trouble.
Either he had completely changed his ways, or he was consciously keeping himself under control and trying to cause less trouble. A fight he had only gotten into because he was pushed into it, with a reason that wasn’t embarrassing enough to make Sizhao feel too ashamed. He might as well take a gamble on this one.
“If we don’t get to the bottom of what happened, we won’t apologize, and we won’t make peace. My brother is not going to take the blame for something he shouldn’t.”
The five students involved in the fight were divided into two groups. The three who had been beaten sat together, while Xunli sat with a thin, wiry boy. The boy was named Hou Zicheng, and his mother had come in person.
The boy had already admitted to being at fault for the fight. His mother had glared angrily at him from beginning to end, poking and scolding him, and was already preparing to hold him down and make him apologize to the others. He lowered his head timidly and did not defend himself with a single word.
And what about his own little brother? He remained utterly indifferent. No matter whether others said he was guilty or innocent, no matter what kind of crime they pinned on him, he remained unmoved. If Sizhao hadn’t known for certain that the bruises on his face had come from the fight, anyone who didn’t know better might have thought he was some proud, unyielding warrior.
“Besides looking at the surveillance footage, I suggest separating the five of them and questioning them one by one. Ask them what exactly started the argument. If their statements don’t match, then someone is lying, and this matter isn’t over.”
Though still young, Sizhao handled matters with a maturity far beyond his years. Even though the other parents all wanted to avoid unnecessary trouble, they could not withstand his relentless questioning.
“Don’t even talk about minor injuries. Even if someone suffered serious injuries, I would pursue this to the end. I’m not going to smooth things over by paying money. Children fighting isn’t a crime. At most, they’ll be sent to a juvenile correctional facility. If my brother did something wrong, I’ll be the first to send him there. But if someone else was the one who did something wrong and still wants to lie and deny it, trying to muddle through and cover it up, I can speak for my father here and say that he absolutely will not allow something like that to happen.”
This was the first time the refined young man had made such a clear statement after entering the conference room. His words left not only the homeroom teacher speechless, but the other students’ parents as well.
He could truly be called impartial and unsparing, showing no favoritism. Moreover, he had invoked his father. Everyone present knew whose children they were dealing with.
“Take these children outside and question them. And as for the surveillance footage, I’ll take my time watching it here. However long they fought, that’s how long I’ll watch.”
With such a formidable ally on his side, perhaps Hou Zicheng felt that he had finally found someone to rely on. At that moment, he suddenly spoke up. “They called me a nouveau riche first. They said I was ignorant, that the shoes I wore were an outdated style and looked tacky. Xunli is my friend. He... came out to speak up for me. Then they all started insulting him, saying he was a bastard. In the end, we started fighting.”
The expressions of the adults present all became rather complicated. If a child knew about the matter of being a bastard, then the adults must have discussed it at home, where the child overheard it and then brought it to school to spread around.
Sizhao was a little surprised that Xunli actually had a friend at school. It seemed the saying was true: even Qin Hui had three friends.
“Teacher Wang, does this count as a personal attack? My brother is only fourteen. These words will leave a heavy psychological shadow on him. I’m extremely concerned about his mental health right now, especially since there are already rumors circulating at school. The others suffered physical blows, while my brother has suffered emotional trauma. They’re not even on the same level.
“I need the others to apologize to my brother. Otherwise, we will sue the school.”
“He really is a bastard. My dad said so. He knows Liu Xunli’s father...” the beaten boy shouted indignantly, only for his uncle to cover his mouth.
That was what had happened to Xunli that day. He had thought that no one from his family would come to the meeting for him, but his brother came instead. That day’s fight had simply been a muddled mess. No one was going to pass judgment on his behalf, and he hadn’t expected anyone to. One person did something, one person took responsibility. If he deserved to be scolded, then scold him. If he deserved to be punished, then punish him. He didn’t care.
He hadn’t expected Liu Sizhao to stand his ground all the way that day. And this person really was full of schemes. He had actually managed to convince everyone. Not only did Xunli not have to apologize to anyone, he had even become the “victim.” He didn’t understand what exactly was wrong with his supposed psychological problems. But his brother insisted that he had severe depression and had only been examined at the hospital the previous week. It had to be the rumors from his classmates that had given him depression.
“Liu Xunli is not a bastard. If he were a bastard, would I have come here for this parents’ meeting? We’re brothers.” Before leaving, Sizhao said to those boys, “Remember that properly, and spread it around. Spread it all the way to your parents. What happens in our family isn’t something for other people to turn into gossip over tea.”
During his final six months before leaving Nanshi, Sizhao and Xunli restored diplomatic relations. Although their topics were limited to Sizhao tutoring him, with Sizhao frequently ordering him not to leave the house until he had finished studying.
Xunli stopped tearing up books and throwing his weight around. Even though he didn’t like studying and didn’t want to study, he slowly began picking up his books. He could now manage to answer two questions on a test paper.
Sizhao’s diary hastily recorded the process from falling ill to recovering, the inexplicable appearance of a new younger brother, all the way to his eventual departure from Nanshi. That was more or less everything that had happened.
The handwriting on every page was extremely messy. He rarely described his own feelings. It was as though he was simply trying to record everything that happened in his life. Perhaps from the very beginning, he had felt that he would not survive. The diary he left behind was the only evidence that he had once passed through this world.
He had never thought about whom to leave the diary to. His father was out of the question, and his mother even more so.
When Zhuyu saw these words on the first page, she could not help but gently run her finger over the faded traces of ink left by the passage of time.
Morituri te salutant was a Latin phrase meaning, “Those who are about to die salute you.” In ancient Rome, gladiators would say these words to the emperor before engaging in a fight to the death.
He had been even more carefree, even more heroic, than she had imagined.
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