“To them, it’s just too easy, isn’t it?”
Bai Shi set down his teacup and turned his head to look out the window.
“I’m not passing judgment on whether they are good or bad people. I just find it a bit... sickening.”
The woman sat behind the desk, watching him. “In this metaphor of yours, in what ways is your ‘seatmate’ similar to a chimpanzee?”
Bai Shi’s face stiffened for a moment. He knit his brows impatiently. “I wasn’t comparing him to one. I was comparing *them*.”
The woman nodded, signaling for him to continue.
“Student Liu is a rather severe girl. It seems one of her family members is a primary or secondary school teacher. I’m not sure about her other hereditary traits, but she’s certainly inherited the potential of an ‘educator.’ If her soul were placed in the body of a forty-year-old man, it might better suit the style of speech she favors: bossy, condescending, discussing trivialities in a tone of feigned indifference, unable to distinguish between genuine joy and the mere accumulation of clutter. As far as I know, she repeated a year in primary school just to get into this junior high. Her grades are usually in the top ten, recently hitting the top five—a rank that fosters self-esteem. Because she’s improved through hard work, she has a blind faith in it. Though she’s never truly suffered, she’s obsessed with imagining hardship. She often fantasizes about how ‘if I were so-and-so, I definitely would or wouldn’t do this or that.’ She really ought to write novels; her preachy style would surely attract more pre-tax-age girls who love being enchanted by self-indulgent finger-pointing. By that, I mean there’s a girl in class who practically worships her. It’s like an *Alien* movie—to worship a classmate of the same age, how much self-esteem must one lack to do that? Then again, perhaps that girl sees through to the soul beneath the youthful skin, which only proves she was born to worship patriarchy; as long as someone speaks with their hands pressed down and brows furrowed, she’ll listen on the spot. Or perhaps she’s so extremely anti-patriarchal that she chose a female body with patriarchal connotations to admire.
“I’ve strayed from the point. Back to Student Liu. I’ve observed her for a while and thought about it for a long time, but I couldn't think of any way to make her experience my seatmate’s life for a moment before she starts spouting nonsense based on some fabricated web novel. Her words are weightless. I must emphasize again: I don’t think she’s a bad person. I simply loathe her. That’s not a contradiction, is it?”
The woman shook her head, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray. “I don’t believe it is. And the other girl?”
“Student Tang is a romanticist, or rather, a writer who believes she was born in the wrong era. She loves writing lyrical prose. Her fountain pen isn't filled with ink, but with a tube full of metaphors capable of attacking any piece of paper indiscriminately. Her love for piling up imagery is a lingering poison from *Tian Jing Sha*; her passion for convoluted descriptions is a blight from *Moshang Sang*. She can use five hundred words to describe a pair of shoes, three hundred to describe someone twisting about, and insert a hundred words of dialogue that are nothing but affected parallelism. The greatest contribution of exam-oriented education is that it drove away a vast amount of predatory lyrical prose and used the argumentative essay to seal off those endless metaphors—or perhaps I’m just too dull to have discovered a modern-day Flaubert. Though, in her words, that would be ‘the most loathsome thing.’
“Unlike Student Liu’s arrogance, she approaches things with a romantic reformism. She wants everything to flourish upward, to have a beautiful shape that meets her expectations—for instance, orphans shouldn't be too pitiful, beggars shouldn't starve to death, and laborers shouldn't lack money. In that sense, I suppose she is a good person. But I still loathe her. If I need a reason, it’s likely because I am not that naive, so I feel that her being so naive is simply too lucky. She has a face that has never known a blow. That might be a bit harsh; if she’s faced any blows at her age, they likely came from her family. Whether she’s truly literary is hard to say, but she seems to favor the acerbic school of literati. Paired with her metaphors, it’s a perfect match. If Bi Gan were to read her work, he’d rather stick to his original cause of death than be bored to death by her prose.
“However, ease cannot be faked. There are moments when my seatmate has an expression of ‘resignation’ on his face. The others never have that.”
The woman folded her hands and looked up at him. “When I said ‘we can talk about anything,’ I truly didn't expect you to spend so much time discussing two classmates you aren't even close with.”
Bai Shi looked around her office. “This is psychological counseling, isn't it? They are my mental affliction.”
The woman smiled slightly. “You aren't very tolerant of people, are you?”
Bai Shi fell silent and did not answer.
Shang [ ] stood up and pulled open one side of the window. The clamor from the playground outside drifted in. She sat back down.
Bai Shi asked her, “Don't I need to fill out any forms for a psychological assessment?”
“I don't think it's necessary, but if you wish, I can provide some measurement tools.”
Bai Shi shook his head and leaned back into his chair.
“Let’s talk about you, Student Bai.”
“I have nothing much to say.”
Shang [ ] pulled out another cigarette. “As you said, do your peers often observe their classmates like this and draw such varied conclusions? Or rather, do they have a logic similar to yours, weighing every word as you do? Has anyone ever told you that your speech is a bit too... literary?”
Bai Shi stared at the glow of her cigarette and nodded.
“Are you allowed to smoke? During work hours?” Bai Shi looked at her.
“May I speculate? When you feel disgusted by Student Liu’s words and actions, are you standing from your seatmate’s perspective? Because some people would surely understand her idea of ‘demanding progress’; from an absolute dimension, there is nothing wrong with it. Or, to go further, did you simply find a shadow of yourself among the ‘type of people’ Student Liu attacks? Did you find yourself categorized, to some extent, as one of those ‘spiritually impoverished’ people?”
Bai Shi smiled. “I’m not that morally noble. Why would I stick my neck out for my seatmate’s sake? Furthermore, there’s no need to make such associations regarding my background. My upbringing was quite decent.”
Shang [ ] nodded. “Is that so?”
“Are you allowed to smoke?” Bai Shi asked again.
Shang [ ] tilted her head. “Do you want me to put it out?”
Bai Shi paused, staring into her eyes.
It was five in the evening in the office. The sky outside had darkened. Only a single green desk lamp emitted a pale yellow light, reflecting on her face. The cigarette was held between her slender fingers, trembling slightly, the ash at the tip swaying as it fell. The woman curved her red lips, her eyelashes fluttering as she leaned forward. Her curly hair was gathered to one side, revealing the smooth line of her neck on the other. In a tone as soft as a whisper, she asked again, “Do you want me to put it out?”
Like an antelope asking a lion for permission.
Bai Shi’s tooth throbbed with a dull ache. Using a deep tone he hadn't even noticed himself, he stared at her and said, “Put it out.”
Shang [ ] smiled, extinguished the cigarette, and sat back in her seat, returning to her usual tone. “You have quite a desire for control, don't you?”
Bai Shi did not reply.
Shang [ ] crossed her arms and looked at him. “Understanding yourself begins with facing yourself honestly.”
Bai Shi glanced at his watch and suddenly stood up. “I’ve thought about it. I don't actually hate Student Liu and Student Tang that much. I must have been overthinking.”
“Is that so?”
“I’m leaving.”
Shang [ ] rose to see him out. “Then, until next time.”
Bai Shi’s hand paused on the door handle. “I don’t plan on coming back.”
Shang [ ] laughed as she saw him off.
***
Bai Shi left Shang [ ]’s office with a heavy heart. Voicing his recent thoughts hadn't made him feel any better; instead, he felt a strange sensation, as if he’d been caught in the middle of a crime.
He went to the school gate to wait for Pei Cangyu. When he had first transferred here, Pei Cangyu had been squatting right there. From a roadside shop window, Bai Shi saw his own gloomy face and remembered that he was always so lifeless—to the point where he even disgusted himself.
But if he were truly asked to change, he seemed unwilling.
Today was Friday. Because Pei Cangyu had to stay late to finish his homework, Bai Shi had gone to Shang [ ]’s office first and was only now coming out to wait. By now, the sky was dark and the streetlights were lit. Bai Shi saw Pei Cangyu, the class monitor, and Qi Shuo walking out of the teaching building together, laughing and chatting as they headed toward the gate.
The class monitor was a gentle person, possessing the patience of a good education and the empathy of a naturally kind heart. She and Bai Shi were like two extremes. Bai Shi seriously suspected that if he were to bite himself and taste the blood, even his blood would be bitter. He was just that kind of resentful creature.
Going to Shang [ ]’s office had made him suddenly realize this.
So, Bai Shi hid. He ducked into an alleyway instead of waiting for Pei Cangyu under the agreed-upon streetlight.
Even he didn't know why; he just instinctively hid as they approached.
He watched Pei Cangyu reach the school gate. Not seeing Bai Shi under the light, Pei looked around but couldn't find him.
Qi Shuo suggested in a low voice, “Maybe Student Bai already left?”
Pei Cangyu let out an ‘ah.’ “No way.”
Qi Shuo added, “Then do you want to walk with us? You can call him while we walk.”
Hearing her say this, Bai Shi wanted to burst out and appear before them. Then Pei Cangyu would surely refuse to go with them and choose Bai Shi instead, walking with the person he’d made plans with. But Bai Shi didn't move.
Sure enough, Pei Cangyu thought for a moment and refused, saying it was better to wait a bit; maybe Bai Shi would show up soon.
Qi Shuo blushed and said she’d wait with him for a while then, since they hadn't finished their conversation anyway. Pei Cangyu happily agreed; he wasn't comfortable leaving a conversation halfway through either.
The class monitor smiled and bumped Qi Shuo’s shoulder, standing under the streetlight with her.
Standing in the shadows, Bai Shi watched them under the light.
At that moment, he realized what a contradictory person he was. He was both arrogant and cowardly, which gave his entire being a morbid sense of self-indulgence. Combined with a desire for control etched into his bones, yet with nothing ever going quite as he wished, it felt as though ants were constantly gnawing at his nerves, making him feel like the whole world was against him.
Bai Shi crouched down against the wall. He remembered a line from a movie Pei Cangyu liked, saying that everyone is like a ship sailing at sea, needing an anchor to reach the shore. Bai Shi didn't want an anchor for himself, but he knew that Pei Cangyu’s anchor was right here.
It didn't belong to him. Nothing in Bai Shi’s life belonged to him. Not his parents’ care, not his so-called friends, not the way others looked at him—none of it was truly given to him.
Bai Shi thought he needed to do something to make himself feel better, to gain some grasp on things so he wouldn't just drift along. He needed things to develop according to his own ideas. He needed to do something.
Qi Shuo and the monitor had been waiting for a long time. Pei Cangyu felt a bit bad and checked his watch, telling them they should go first since it was getting late.
The girls tried to get Pei Cangyu to come along again, but he wouldn't agree. The calls he made to Bai Shi weren't going through.
Eventually, the girls left first.
Bai Shi stood up and watched Pei Cangyu leaning against the lamp post, staring at a small roadside stall as if he really wanted to go take a look.
A boy walked up from behind and brushed past Pei Cangyu’s shoulder. Pei Cangyu didn't see clearly and mistook him for someone else, grabbing the boy’s backpack and shouting, “Bai Shi! Bai Shi! Dammit! You’re so slow!”
The boy froze, looked left and right, then pulled off his hat and shook off Pei Cangyu’s hand. “Who the hell are you? You crazy?”
Realizing he’d mistaken the person, Pei Cangyu quickly apologized. “Oh, oh, sorry. Mistook you for someone else.”
The boy clearly wasn't the friendly type. He tilted his chin up. “Yo, and that’s it?”
Hearing that, Pei Cangyu immediately turned aggressive, curling his lip with a look of disdain and intimidation. “That’s fucking it. Now beat it, before I punch you.”
The boy quickly gauged their relative strengths through that brief exchange. He put his hat back on, laughed it off, and left briskly. Pei Cangyu scoffed at his retreating back and kicked the lamp post in frustration.
“Kicking a lamp post isn't very good, is it?” Bai Shi appeared behind Pei Cangyu.
Pei Cangyu clutched his chest and jumped to the side. “Holy crap, you’re like a ghost! Scared the life out of me.”
Bai Shi smiled. Pei Cangyu gave Bai Shi’s backpack a kick. “Where’d you go? You’re so slow.”
Bai Shi pointed to the stall Pei Cangyu had been staring at. “Want to go take a look?”
Pei Cangyu threw an arm around his shoulder. “You want to go too? What a coincidence.”
They walked toward the stall with their arms around each other’s shoulders. It was a roadside stall selling handmade decorations and various trinkets, ranging from woven bamboo birds to ten-yuan toy cell phones.
Pei Cangyu looked over everything seriously. Bai Shi followed behind him. “What do you want to buy?”
“Just looking, just looking.”
Pei Cangyu circled the stall and finally bought a music box. When opened, a little angel sang—there was no other choice; all the others featured two little people getting married.
“What are you buying that for?” Bai Shi asked.
Pei Cangyu didn't hear him. After paying, he realized he had some budget left, so he bought a necklace from the stall that perfectly matched his usual taste: a skull pendant that looked visibly cheap and crude.
Pei Cangyu specifically asked the vendor to wrap the music box with a ribbon before happily taking it. He carefully tucked it into his backpack, slung an arm over Bai Shi’s shoulder, and smiled with satisfaction. “Let’s go.”
“Hey, we’re planning to go mountain climbing over winter break. Which day are you free?” Pei Cangyu offered Bai Shi a bite of stinky tofu.
Bai Shi frowned, not wanting any, but Pei Cangyu was persistent. “Try it, try it and you won't hate it anymore. This stuff is best once it’s in your mouth.”
Bai Shi had no choice but to eat a piece. The smell left him speechless for a long time. Only after finally swallowing did he answer, “I don't have time during winter break. I have to follow my family’s arrangements.”
Pei Cangyu was a bit disappointed. “Ah... not even one day?”
Bai Shi shook his head. The end of the year was the time for the Bai family to host guests and cultivate social connections.
Pei Cangyu could only nod.
Bai Shi really wanted to say, “You guys should have more fun without me,” but seeing Pei Cangyu’s puffed-out cheeks, he didn't say it. He suddenly wondered: if he imitated the class monitor, would it be easier to get along with people?
They reached the intersection where they usually parted. Bai Shi said goodbye and was about to turn away when Pei Cangyu suddenly grabbed him.
Pei Cangyu pursed his lips, his eyes sparkling. He lowered his voice and leaned close to Bai Shi’s ear. “I’ll tell you something.”
Bai Shi looked at him. There was no one around; Pei didn't need to be this close for no one to hear, but Bai Shi didn't point it out. He just nodded.
A smile spread across Pei Cangyu’s face. “My dad is coming back.”
Bai Shi immediately understood who the music box Pei just bought was for.
“When?”
Pei Cangyu thought for a moment. “I don't know. Probably around the time school starts again.”
He hesitated for a second. “Grandma said he should be released by then.”
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 天净沙 (Tiān Jìng Shā) | Tian Jing Sha | A famous Yuan dynasty qu (poetry) known for its sparse, vivid imagery. |
| 陌上桑 (Mò Shàng Sāng) | Moshang Sang | A famous Han dynasty Yuefu poem known for its detailed description of a beautiful woman. |
| 比干 (Bǐ Gān) | Bi Gan | A historical/mythological figure from the Shang Dynasty known for his loyalty; his heart was famously cut out by King Zhou. |
| 臭豆腐 (chòu dòufu) | Stinky tofu | A popular Chinese street food known for its strong odor. |
| 放出来 (fàng chūlái) | Released | Contextually refers to being released from prison. |
| 税龄前少女 (shuì líng qián shàonǚ) | Pre-tax-age girls | A cynical term used by Bai Shi to describe girls too young to pay taxes (minors). |
| 颐指气使 (yí zhǐ qì shǐ) | Bossy / Domineering | To order people about arrogantly. |
| 居高临下 (jū gāo lín xià) | Condescending | To look down from a height; to act superior. |
