Wen Rui and Song Xiuzhu had parted on decidedly unpleasant terms. On the way back, they walked one behind the other without saying a word.
When the dorm room door was almost in sight, Song Xiuzhu spoke softly, as though conceding defeat. “You’re right. Lu Congzhi and I really haven’t communicated enough. During the National Day holiday, I’ll ask him to come back to the welfare institute with me for Director Mom’s birthday. I’ll find a chance to talk to him properly then.”
Would Lu Congzhi actually go back with him to visit Director Mom? At the thought, a mocking smile flashed in Song Xiuzhu’s eyes.
Of course he wouldn’t. Ever since leaving the institute, Lu Congzhi had never wanted to return. To him, it wasn’t the place that had raised him, but a shameful, filthy mire that could neither be mentioned nor revisited. At noon, Song Xiuzhu would invite him in front of Wen Rui.
Lu Congzhi would certainly refuse. A little provocation would be enough to make him spew a torrent of heartless, ungrateful words. Then Wen Rui would see just what an ungrateful bastard Lu Congzhi was. Wouldn’t going into business with someone like that be asking to get ruined?
Wen Rui wasn’t stupid. He would surely make the right judgment.
With his plan settled, Song Xiuzhu recovered his usual gentle composure. He opened the door and smilingly greeted Yu Binbin, who had just climbed out of bed.
Still bleary-eyed, Yu Binbin asked, “Where’s Brother Lu?”
“He went to the university president’s office.” Song Xiuzhu tidied the things on his desk.
“When did he leave?”
“A little over ten minutes ago.”
“Did he eat breakfast?”
“I don’t know,” Song Xiuzhu answered patiently, though his eyes were cold. To Song Xiuzhu, Yu Binbin was practically Lu Congzhi’s dog.
Lin Yuan climbed down from the top bunk and asked, “Xiuzhu, have you had breakfast? If not, I’ll go buy you some.”
Song Xiuzhu: “…”
Wen Rui came in and studied the two of them with an unreadable, searching gaze. As he passed Lu Congzhi’s bed, he noticed that the same pillow towel was still spread across the pillow, and his steps faltered.
Something that had been used to cover **, and he was still going to rest his head on it tonight?
Elio’s Notes: The ** is censored in the Chinese original, not a typo here. I’ve left it as-is instead of guessing what the author meant.
He kept walking, returned to his desk, opened his draft notebook, and took up the pen engraved I long to bring you honor. Stroke by stroke, he continued writing the contract.
Song Xiuzhu knew what he was doing but was powerless to stop him. The sudden closeness between Lu Congzhi and Wen Rui stuck in his throat like a fishbone.
Lin Yuan emerged with his toothbrush still in his mouth and asked again, “Xiuzhu, want me to buy you breakfast?”
Song Xiuzhu was irritated and wanted to get out for a walk, so he replied, “I’ll go with you.”
“Great! I’ll be right there.” Delighted, Lin Yuan brushed his teeth at lightning speed.
Song Xiuzhu went to the washroom doorway and waited quietly.
Wen Rui suddenly capped his pen, went to Lu Congzhi’s bed, and picked up the gaudily patterned pillow towel.
Yu Binbin stared at him in confusion. “What are you doing?”
Wen Rui brushed past Song Xiuzhu into the washroom, took down his plastic washbasin, added laundry detergent, and threw the pillow towel in to soak before scrubbing it.
He simply couldn’t stand it. A person could be rough around the edges, but there had to be a limit.
Yu Binbin followed him into the washroom and asked suspiciously, “Why are you washing Brother Lu’s pillow towel?”
Wen Rui ignored him.
Yu Binbin walked over and put his hand into the basin. “If anyone’s washing it, it should be me.”
Wen Rui paused, suddenly realizing what he was doing. He hardly knew whether to laugh or cry, and felt a twinge of annoyance. Perhaps Lu Congzhi had stressed him out so much that he’d developed a reflex.
He stepped aside. “Then you wash it.”
Yu Binbin accepted without hesitation. “I’ll take care of all Brother Lu’s laundry.”
Wen Rui washed his hands clean and headed for the door.
As he approached, Song Xiuzhu said in a very low voice, “Lin Yuan and I are just ordinary friends. There’s nothing strange about getting breakfast together. But washing Lu Congzhi’s clothes is going too far. Who are you competing with?”
Competing out of jealousy? Me? Wen Rui was briefly taken aback, then gave a low chuckle whose meaning was hard to read.
At noon, Lu Congzhi returned carrying two large bags of food.
“Kids, open up! It’s hot, and I know you’re too lazy to go out, so I brought boxed lunches. Ribs, red-braised pork, eggs, sausages, all your favorites. Eight stir-fried dishes and five boxes of rice. Enough, right?”
There were six people in the dorm, and he’d brought only five boxes of rice. How could that be enough? Song Xiuzhu frowned, then realized that Lu Congzhi had brought food for only four people, with an extra box of rice in case someone was still hungry. He and Lin Yuan had been excluded entirely.
He wasn’t even a shareholder yet, and he was already forming a little clique. Didn’t Wen Rui think that was excessive? How could someone like this make a reliable business partner?
Song Xiuzhu immediately looked at Wen Rui.
Wen Rui’s features were cool, his expression composed, and he wore the same aloof dignity as always. He snapped apart a pair of disposable bamboo chopsticks, handed them to Lu Congzhi, and asked, “You’re not treating those two?”
Lu Congzhi answered frankly, “I’d rather feed my food to dogs than give it to them.”
Lin Yuan slammed the table and pointed at Lu Congzhi’s nose, ready to curse him out. Song Xiuzhu merely rested a hand on his shoulder, and he immediately calmed down.
Wen Rui gave the two of them a meaningful glance. So, even at this early stage of the company, two of its five shareholders were already acting in concert. That greatly weakened his own authority, despite his absolute controlling stake. Song Xiuzhu certainly knew how to play the game.
Noticing Wen Rui’s unusual glance, Song Xiuzhu’s heart gave a little jolt, and he quickly withdrew the hand resting on Lin Yuan’s shoulder.
Lin Yuan continued ingratiating himself regardless. “Xiuzhu, sit down. I’ll go buy us something. We don’t need his food.”
Song Xiuzhu managed a reluctant assent and let Lin Yuan leave.
Zhou Ming didn’t dare pick up his chopsticks. He looked awkward.
Yu Binbin opened all the lunchboxes and arranged them neatly. He piled the meat dishes in front of Brother Lu, pushed the vegetable dishes toward Zhou Ming, and sat down between them.
Wen Rui suddenly said, “Lu Congzhi, I’m not a dog.”
The remark picked up the earlier conversation with a touch of teasing, and the frozen atmosphere instantly loosened.
Sitting beside Wen Rui with one leg crossed over the other, Lu Congzhi gave a low laugh. “Class monitor, I’ll only give a dog what you leave uneaten.”
Then he turned to Song Xiuzhu and said with apparent warmth, “Song Xiuzhu, we can’t finish this boxed lunch. Why don’t you have it?”
Without his earlier joke, the second remark might have sounded like an invitation. But none of them were fools. How could they miss the insult hidden inside it?
Wen Rui and Song Xiuzhu had always been closest. What did Lu Congzhi expect to gain by calling Song Xiuzhu a dog right in front of Wen Rui? What good could possibly come of that? Wasn’t he afraid that if relations soured, Wen Rui might side with Song Xiuzhu and refuse to transfer the shares?
Under the table, Yu Binbin secretly tugged at Lu Congzhi’s trousers.
Zhou Ming still didn’t dare speak.
Wen Rui put down his chopsticks and turned to Lu Congzhi. He was just about to say, “Lu Congzhi, if you’ve got something against Song Xiuzhu, you might as well say it now.”
The company was already established. Rather than have everyone plotting behind each other’s backs, it would be better to bring their conflict into the open and resolve it.
But Song Xiuzhu spoke first. “Lu Congzhi, will you come back to the welfare institute with me over National Day? It’s Director Mom’s birthday. What if we pool some money and get her a gift? I’m sure she’d be delighted.”
Lu Congzhi hated the director. Merely bringing her up would send him into a rage. Over the years, Song Xiuzhu had often done just that, both to torment Lu Congzhi and to cultivate the impression that he was ungrateful and impossible to get along with.
In their two years as roommates, Lu Congzhi had made no friends apart from the easygoing Yu Binbin. Song Xiuzhu deserved all the credit for that.
The trick had never failed.
Today, Song Xiuzhu intended to reinforce that impression in front of Wen Rui. He wanted Wen Rui to understand perfectly clearly that Lu Congzhi was a mad dog.
Sure enough, the Lu Congzhi who had been smiling only moments before now darkened visibly. His pale, thin lips pulled into a nasty smile.
“What does her birthday have to do with me? Why should I chip in for her gift?”
Song Xiuzhu frowned slightly. “Lu Congzhi, that’s going too far. The director is the person who raised us, after all.”
Leaning back with a cigarette between his fingers and his long legs crossed, Lu Congzhi raised his sharp chin and looked at him mockingly. “Song Xiuzhu, allow me to correct you. The state raised me, not the director.”
Song Xiuzhu reproached him gently. “But the director was the one who took care of us. She devoted herself to us, helped us find sponsors, and protected us as we grew up. Don’t you feel the slightest gratitude toward her? We’re not related by blood, but she loved us as if we were her own children.”
Zhou Ming plainly agreed. He thought it couldn’t have been easy for the director to raise Song Xiuzhu and Lu Congzhi into such outstanding young men. Lu Congzhi was being a little cold-blooded.
Yu Binbin leaned toward Lu Congzhi and whispered, “Brother Lu, let’s give a little ground. Don’t argue with him. You’re somebody important now, and your reputation matters.”
Wen Rui lit a cigarette. He offered no opinion. He wanted to hear what Lu Congzhi had to say.
Lu Congzhi leaned back until three legs of his stool lifted off the floor, leaving it balanced on one.
Maintaining his balance on the brink of toppling over, he said mockingly, “Song Xiuzhu, when we were little, your pockets were always full of candy and spending money, and your schoolbag was always full of notebooks and pens. The other children wore the same clothes for years, while you got several new outfits and pairs of shoes every month. The director said your relatives sent them from out of town. Did she think I was an idiot? If you’d had relatives to care for you, you wouldn’t have ended up at the welfare institute. So I think you’ve misunderstood something. You were the only one the director ever loved like her own child.”
Song Xiuzhu looked faintly stunned. He had believed that Lu Congzhi saw his time at the welfare institute as a stain he absolutely had to conceal, one he would never discuss in front of others. He hadn’t expected this sudden change in temperament.
But his reasons were far too flimsy.
“Lu Congzhi, I admit the director paid a little more attention to obedient, well-behaved children. That was because she had limited energy and could only do so much. You kids were so mischievous that keeping you in line gave her headaches. Favoritism is human nature. Even parents can’t treat every child exactly alike. When you behaved yourself, wasn’t she good to you too?”
Lu Congzhi shook his head and laughed darkly. “Song Xiuzhu, you’re lecturing me about human partiality. Today, I only want to talk to you about human evil.”
With that, the smile vanished from his face, and his voice turned abruptly icy. “Song Xiuzhu, do you remember my older brother, Tang Hu?”
Song Xiuzhu froze. “Who?”
Lu Congzhi stubbed out his cigarette and began slowly. “Looks like you’ve forgotten. The year you first came to the institute, when you were twelve, there was a tall, skinny boy who liked your schoolbag. He touched it and left a dirty handprint.”
“He felt terrible about it, so he pulled the bag off your back and brought it to the pool by the playground to wash it. You thought he was trying to steal your stuff, rushed over, and fought with him. Both of you fell into the pool.”
“That night, you both developed high fevers. The director took you to the hospital for emergency treatment, but locked that boy in a dark little room. You spent a week in the hospital with the director watching over you every day. No one looked after the boy. The fever damaged his brain, and he went deaf.”
“Leaders came to inspect the institute during festivals and holidays. Every orphan’s condition was recorded in detail in their files. How could the director explain to the inspectors that one of the children had suddenly become disabled? So the boy disappeared. What do you think happened to him? Is he even alive? Where is he? And did the director have anything to do with it?”
Question followed question, his voice thick with anger and obsession. Lu Congzhi’s bloodshot eyes bore into Song Xiuzhu.
All the words Song Xiuzhu had spent the entire morning rehearsing were cut off in one brutal stroke.