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Capítulo 7

"Death! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!"

Every sentence ends with an exclamation mark, as if the sentences themselves weren't shocking enough.

No matter how many times she saw these sarcastic remarks, Fang Lin couldn't remain calm. She spent a lot of effort scraping them off with a razor blade, but they would immediately be covered up again the next day. This happened several times, and in the end, she had no choice but to let these vicious words grow on the table like tumors.

The lecturer/instructor?

The homeroom teacher would only erupt in fury, berating her: "Everyone else's desks are so clean, why is yours such a mess! Do you have any manners at all?!" or "If you didn't bother anyone, why would anyone bother you? Before reporting others, shouldn't you reflect on yourself first? Go back!"

No matter how others criticized her, none of their words were as damaging as those from her homeroom teacher. Every single time, the words "no manners" were like a sharp knife, piercing the deepest part of Fang Lin's heart, causing her to bleed profusely.

After a few times, Fang Lin learned the minimum way to protect herself: don't ask your homeroom teacher for help.

She didn't ask her homeroom teacher for help, but the teacher never gave up on making trouble for her...

The second to fourth periods on Wednesday afternoons are all Chinese language classes.

Chinese literature happens to be a core subject taught by the homeroom teacher, and as usual, students were assigned writing assignments for the three consecutive Chinese literature classes. Strangely, the writing assignments seemed to be specifically tailored to Fang Lin each time.

The essay topic from two weeks ago was to choose one of "crime and punishment" or "the cost of leniency".

Last week's essay topic was to choose between "My Dad" and "If I Didn't Have a Dad".

Today's essay topic is...

The homeroom teacher wrote "If I killed someone" on the blackboard with chalk, paused, and then wrote "If my father was a murderer" next to it. The whole class couldn't help but laugh.

"Li Fanglin! You must have gotten a very high score!"

Gan Ze stood at the back of the classroom with his legs crossed and shouted, which immediately made the whole class burst into laughter.

212, 224, 236, 248, 250, 262...

The male student sitting in front of Fang Lin looked at the two topics dismissively, thinking: What kind of essay topics are these? Aren't they obviously meant to embarrass Li Fang Lin? What exactly does the homeroom teacher dislike about Li Fang Lin that makes her keep messing with her like this?

The male student in the seat in front of her didn't turn around to steal a glance at Fang Lin's expression.

He couldn't bear it.

"Same as before, choose one of the two topics." The homeroom teacher said calmly, "The topic 'If I Killed Someone' is mainly to encourage you to use your imagination and try to reflect on the heinous act of murder through internalized thinking. The other topic, 'My Father Is a Murderer,' is to encourage you to discuss the meaning of upholding justice even against family ties. Don't chatter, concentrate on writing! Anyone who hasn't finished writing by the end of three class periods will be punished by running around the playground!"

A commotion arose among the crowd, clearly still discussing Fang Lin. Some even chuckled.

Fang Lin kept her head down, her long hair hanging over the table, and no one could see her expression clearly.

The whispers and chattering comments were like a black beehive right next to us.

"Quiet! Quiet!" The homeroom teacher slammed his hand on the blackboard, his anger flaring. "What are you saying? Focus on your writing, or the whole class will have to run ten laps around the track!"

Everyone then quieted down.

Fang Lin had already memorized the multiplication tables twice, but half an hour later, her composition book was still completely blank.

What should I write?

"Dad, you said I would encounter a lot of unhappy things and a lot of bad people... but you also said that good things would definitely happen, right?" Fang Lin stared blankly at the empty squares and mumbled, "Why hasn't anything good happened to me since I started high school?"

She became more and more lost in thought, and before she knew it, a hand was slowly approaching her back.

"?"

Fang Lin was jolted back to her senses when that hand swiftly picked up the blank composition book on the table.

The cold-faced homeroom teacher, holding the composition book, said sternly, "Li Fanglin, do you look down on me?"

“…No,” Fang Lin said softly.

My heart is beating so fast

"If you're not looking down on me, then what's going on?"

"..."

"Speak?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"What do you mean by 'I haven't thought about it yet'? When you take the college entrance exam, will you be so open about saying you haven't thought about it yet? Do you not want to get into a good university? Or do you just not care at all?"

"...No." Fang Lin's heart was beating so fast, it felt like she couldn't breathe.

"What do you mean 'not'? Why don't you care? Where did you get that contemptuous attitude from?"

"...I'm...sorry," Fang Lin struggled to breathe, managing to utter these three words with all her might.

"Who are you apologizing to? Me? The person you should apologize to the most is yourself! What will you become if you continue with this self-destructive attitude? Don't say I taught you anything after you get out of here!"

"..."

The atmosphere in the class became extremely tense.

Everyone knew it didn't concern them, yet they were all equally oppressed by this intense anger.

"Very good, you think you're very excellent," the class teacher said calmly.

"..." Fang Lin wanted to say no, but she had no strength to respond.

"You don't need to write the essay anymore, come up to the stage." The homeroom teacher pointed towards the podium.

"?" Fang Lin thought she had misheard.

"Come up on stage." The homeroom teacher's eyes were extremely cold.

"I……"

"Are you looking down on me? You didn't write your essay, and you didn't want to go up on stage when we asked you to. Li Fanglin, what are you even doing at school? Go up there!"

With no other choice, Fang Lin slowly walked onto the podium.

Although I don't know why I have to go on stage, my legs are already trembling slightly.

"If you don't write, you'll have to speak." The homeroom teacher crossed her arms and raised her chin slightly. "Choose one of the two topics and give an impromptu speech. If you do well, I won't punish you; if you don't, I'll make you go to the stage at tomorrow's morning assembly and give a speech to the whole school. Begin."

Fang Lin was stunned.

The whole class was stunned.

Fang Lin felt burning hot all over, and her mind went completely blank.

"What are you waiting for? To clap?" The homeroom teacher clapped her hands: "Alright, everyone clap!"

The whole class erupted in applause.

"Great! We really want to hear it!" Gan Ze laughed heartily and clapped his hands vigorously.

Fang Lin stared blankly at everything that was happening before her eyes, everything that was happening to her, everything that was as malicious as thunder.

cry?

If you were to break down in tears in front of everyone, it might be much simpler.

But if crying were effective, we would have used it already.

Since the outcome was the same—utter humiliation and degrading—Fang Lin had long ago resolved never, ever to shed a single tear in front of these people. The problem was, she was just a seventeen-year-old high school girl; at this moment, being able to hold back her tears was already her limit. If she were to actually give a speech on these two topics, she would definitely break down in tears.

She stood on the podium, in front of the two lines of chalk writing the essay titles on the blackboard.

The applause was intermittent.

To be stared at, to be spied on, to be pitied, to be ridiculed.

She stood there expressionless for three classes that day.

4

It turns out it wasn't just about losing a father.

It's not enough to simply feel sad about my father's early death; there are many other things in life that can be lost.

No one ate lunch with Fang Lin; no one accompanied her to the restroom after class; no one sat with her under the big tree to chat during PE class; and she always stood silently to the side during group experiments in chemistry class. She went to school alone. She went home alone. This was Fang Lin's high school life.

Compared to school, home is a warm haven.

But it was also a small port that Fang Lin absolutely did not want to take "wind" back with her.

Back home, Fang Lin never mentioned anything about what had happened at school to her mother. It wasn't that she didn't want her mother to help her solve the problem, nor that she didn't want her mother to worry. It was simply that she didn't want her mother to experience the pain she had gone through... Just thinking about her mother's sad expression made her heart ache.

This kind of pain can be endured alone.

My mom, who just got off work at the supermarket an hour ago, is washing cabbages at the kitchen counter.

The shredded radish and garlic sprouts were cut, and a fish head floated in the half-boiling miso soup.

Steam rose from the electric cooker, carrying the aroma of large, family-sized steamed buns—part of tomorrow's lunchbox.

"How's school lately?" Mom took two eggs out of the refrigerator.

“Normal.” Fang Lin sat at the dining table reading a book, with her mother busy cooking behind her.

"Is nothing special happening?"

"...I don't like PE class, it's tiring to have to run every time."

"Mom didn't like PE class either, and she still hates it when she thinks about it now."

"So it's genetic?"

"But even though I hate it, I'll still go to class. You should exercise more too..."

The mother and daughter stood back to back, each doing their own thing, but they cherished this time of conversation. Whenever one of them spoke, the other would chime in.

After dinner, Mom had to go to a nearby betel nut stand to help out until 2 a.m., and by the time she got home, Fang Lin was already asleep. Mom didn't have much time to rest; she would only sleep for a few hours after getting home before going to clean a nearby apartment building. In the afternoon, when it was time for her shift at the supermarket, Mom would go to the hypermarket to help put fresh vegetables on the shelves.

Actually, the family's expenses are very small. Apart from rent and insurance, they don't spend much money. The reason why her mother works so much is mostly because she doesn't feel secure. After all, she needs to save enough money for Fang Lin's education before she graduates from university. She doesn't want to see Fang Lin working part-time while studying.

After putting the washed vegetables into the wok, Mom glanced back at Fang Lin.

"Should I get some tutoring? Should I focus on improving my math?"

"Just read it yourself."

"Won't it be very difficult to read math aloud by yourself?"

"It's okay, I didn't plan to do very well on the exam." Fang Lin underlined points on her reference book with a highlighter.

Mom laughed.

The child's spontaneous words of thoughtfulness always made her feel guilty.