Chapter Forty: Zhao Tianxing

Zhao Tianxing was always the last to leave the classroom. He didn’t like school, but compared to going home, he would rather spend the entire evening dawdling in the empty classroom.

“Go home now, it’s already late, the school is about to close.” The old security guard looked at the boy who never left until he came to urge him. He didn’t understand why—his own grandson dreaded school every day, but this lanky young man was always the last to leave. “Do you like school?”

“No,” Zhao Tianxing shook his head, said nothing more, and slung his backpack as he walked out.

“You useless good-for-nothing! Old Wang’s wife next door says he got promoted again, making six thousand a month. You’ve been at the company longer than him, so why are you still just a low-level employee, huh?”

Zhao Tianxing stood at the door, but didn’t knock.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m useless. How did you ever fall for me in the first place? If you’re so capable, why didn’t you go find yourself a rich man? All you do every day is spend my money.”

“I spend your money? I’d like to go out and find a job, but what about Tianxing and Ziqiang? Are you going to look after the kids? Your mother insisted I have them early, said she’d take care of them. Where is she now? Always claiming her health is bad, but when she’s dancing with the old men downstairs, her back doesn’t ache at all!”

“She’s your mother. Watch your mouth. If you can’t say it right, don’t say anything!”

“That old wretch always wants money. If she really wanted me to call her ‘mom,’ she’d hand over some cash.”

Zhao Tianxing finally knocked, and, seeing his parents hurling blame at each other, quickly slipped into his own room with his backpack.

He hated those textbook depictions of family—those warm, loving scenes were castles in the air, things he’d never experienced. Ever since he could remember, his home had never resembled what a family should be, not even after his brother was born. The outward harmony lasted only five months. Sometimes he wondered if all families were like this—endless quarrels, senseless insults. He loathed this place, but had no choice but to live here.

“Mom, I’m going out for a walk.” After dinner, Zhao Tianxing left the cheap rental apartment that had contained his entire childhood. The buildings in City X were mostly deep gray—concrete walls, dark roads, all beneath a gloomy sky that perpetually radiated a sense of oppression. At night, the city was especially silent. People came and went, finished with the labor of a wasted day, boarding the subway or riding bicycles, returning to their cramped rooms without a word.

Barbecue stalls at the roadside were among the few places steaming with warmth on winter nights. Zhao Tianxing wondered if he would someday become one of these men—coarse, boastful, tipsy after a few bottles, as if the whole world belonged to them. Yet the tales they spun, weren’t they really the dreams they once chased in their youth?

After bearing the weight of years, memories would first fragment under alcohol, then reconstruct themselves. The ideals of the past became drunken reveries, as if life had taken another path—one grand, magnificent, dazzling.

But when the drunken haze lifted, reality returned.

To him, the world was always meant to be this way—full of loneliness and absurdity.

Zhao Tianxing stepped into the milk tea shop. The proprietress, busy tallying up the day’s earnings, looked up and smiled at him. “The same as always, strawberry flavor?” He nodded, and when he held the warm cup in both hands, a faint, barely perceptible smile flickered across his face.

“Good evening.” The girl under the streetlamp, blowing bubbles with her gum, made Zhao Tianxing pause as he strolled down the avenue.

“Good evening.” He looked at the girl before him—so bright and vibrant, so out of place in this city, like a deer lost in a jungle of steel.

They walked side by side, maintaining a comfortable distance, just as they had on countless nights before. Zhao Tianxing thought of a film he’d seen, “Pulp Fiction”—why must we speak to fill the silence? When you find someone truly special, you can simply enjoy the quiet together.

They passed the long street and, as if by mutual understanding, sat down on a bench in front of the park.

“There are still no stars tonight.” The girl gazed up at the sky, which held only a full moon. Though starless, the gentle moonlight made everything seem beautiful to her.

“But at least we have the moon,” Zhao Tianxing said, offering her his cup of milk tea. The warmth in his hands seemed to seep into his heart.

She lifted the corners of her mouth, her eyes brimming with laughter. “If only you were this gentle at school. You’ve got such a handsome face, but all you do is wear that deadpan expression—no girl would ever fancy you. Second year already, and you haven’t even dated. Honestly, that’s pretty lame.”

“They don’t like me, and I don’t like them,” Zhao Tianxing replied, inwardly grumbling that by her own standards, she wasn’t much better.

“Ke Xin brought a bunch of chocolate sticks to school today. She said her father sent them from abroad. I got several—want to try?”

“I, mmm…” Before he could finish, the girl shoved a chocolate stick into his mouth. Zhao Tianxing could only sigh in resignation.

“I know you don’t like sweets, but I think these are really delicious.” She paused. “And if you eat someone’s food, you owe them a favor. You have to promise me something.” She slurped a pearl from her milk tea, her wide innocent eyes gleaming with mischief.

“I’m not agreeing to anything outrageous,” Zhao Tianxing sighed, tacitly accepting the unequal deal.

“Next week our class is performing a play. You absolutely must come watch.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m playing the princess.”

Zhao Tianxing looked unconvinced but nodded anyway. He’d always felt plays were for children, but if his only friend was performing, and there was just one audience member, it should be him.

“I need to get back—if I’m late, Grandma will scold me.” The girl stood, tossed her empty milk tea cup into the green bin, and left.

Zhao Tianxing nodded, watching her diminish into the distance. Just before she disappeared around the corner, she stopped.

“Come early—sit in the front row, the very first row!” She waved, her raised finger waggling in the air.

Zhao Tianxing smiled, and didn’t leave until her figure vanished completely behind the buildings.

Back home, the arguing continued. Zhao Tianxing didn’t care for the reasons anymore. He expertly scooped up his little brother, who had already returned from kindergarten, kissed his forehead, and retreated to his room. He began softly asking what new stories the teacher had told today. One door could not keep out the ongoing quarrels of decades, but Zhao Tianxing didn’t mind. He cared only for his brother’s muffled tales.

The performance went smoothly enough. Zhao Tianxing was the first to applaud, and the girl on stage blushed, catching his raised thumb. He didn’t watch the rest of the program, but slipped backstage. Yet seeing her surrounded in the crowd, he quietly left.

“Now it’s time for the awards ceremony for our school’s stage play competition! Let’s give a warm welcome to our city’s renowned entrepreneur, Huang Chenxu!” The corpulent principal, hoarse from reciting his speech, eagerly introduced the contest’s sponsor like a hen showing off to her master.

“It turns out I graduated from this school myself. So when Principal Zhang asked if I’d like to sponsor a drama competition for the students, I immediately agreed…” The greasy-faced middle-aged man on stage spoke with fervor, desperate for everyone to know he had made it, now possessed enough wealth to squander at will. Standing there, he was like a crow flaunting every feather.

Until Zhao Tianxing, nearly dozing off, was startled by a name.

“We happen to have a student from the orphanage, supported by Mr. Huang. We’ve asked backstage, and she’s willing to express her gratitude publicly. Let’s welcome Lin Yaxin from Class Six, Grade Two!”

The pale girl stood on stage, while the principal recited with emotion: “Classmates, Lin Yaxin grew up in the orphanage. Thanks to Mr. Huang’s support, she now enjoys a life just like ours…”

Zhao Tianxing couldn’t hear the rest. He saw only the silent girl standing before the crowd, helpless as a lamb.

“That’s enough,” he suddenly called out, startling the principal in the midst of praising the businessman. “Do you have something to say? If not, please sit down. Interrupting others is very rude, you know?” The principal cast an unhappy glance at Zhao Tianxing. He didn’t want to scold a rude high schooler at this moment; he wanted to impress the entrepreneur.

Without a word, Zhao Tianxing rushed onto the stage and seized the microphone. He drew a deep breath and turned to face the entrepreneur sitting among the judges. “On behalf of Wang, I thank you.” Then he shoved the microphone back into the stunned principal’s arms. He took the girl’s hand, giving her a smile she could not resist. “I’d like to buy you a milk tea. The timing may be off, but would you come with me?”

“Which class is he from? Who’s his homeroom teacher?” Zhao Tianxing ignored the principal’s angry shouting. Holding the girl’s hand, he led her through the jeering students and out of the school.