Chapter 3: The Murderer's Son

Talking back to the teacher and beating a classmate in front of everyone—no matter how you looked at it, those were enough reasons to be expelled. Yang Liushan felt a wave of sorrow. Wen Xiaocheng was not a violent person by nature; he had just been bullied for too long, and years of pent-up resentment had finally erupted.

But the price was too great...

Expelled from school, studies interrupted, a life of idleness ahead—would he really end up selling candied hawthorns on the street like his grandmother?

“Wen Xiaocheng…” At this thought, Yang Liushan threw caution to the wind and chased after him.

Maybe her classmates would gossip, maybe the teachers would even rebuke her, but this was like Xiao He chasing Han Xin under the moon—what she did now might change the course of someone’s entire life! So, Yang Liushan did not hesitate. As soon as she walked out of the classroom, she caught sight of Wen Xiaocheng’s figure at the end of the corridor. She hurried after him, down the stairs and all the way outside, seeing him head alone toward the back hill. Yang Liushan ran after him.

“Wen Xiaocheng!”

Hearing her call, Wen Xiaocheng turned around. The afternoon sun was at its fiercest, dazzling her so much she couldn’t open her eyes. It was as if he himself was shining, his face alight with a brilliant smile, carrying a hint of mischief—he seemed somehow different from before.

Following him had been an impulsive decision, but now, standing face to face, Yang Liushan had no idea what to say. She blushed deeply, regretting her rashness.

“Did the teacher kick you out too?” Wen Xiaocheng joked, looking relaxed.

Yang Liushan ignored his teasing and anxiously asked, “You… you don’t want to study anymore?”

Wen Xiaocheng chuckled, “Who said that? I’m so smart—it’d be a waste not to study. Not only will I keep studying, I’ll work hard and strive to improve every day!”

In that instant, all the lines she’d prepared were blocked off.

“But… if you do this, the school will expel you!”

“You probably don’t know this—under the nine-year compulsory education system, as long as you don’t commit a criminal offense, the school can’t expel you. It’s the law for the protection of minors—every child has the right to an education! Expulsion is just a scare tactic. Students who get into trouble are either transferred or persuaded to leave. Have you ever seen anyone actually expelled?”

Yang Liushan really hadn’t known this, but seeing Wen Xiaocheng’s confidence, she felt somewhat reassured. As they chatted, she found she’d unconsciously followed him up to the small pavilion on the back hill of the school. The hill wasn’t high, but the view was expansive—the main gate and all the teaching buildings could be seen at a glance. Wen Xiaocheng seemed completely at ease, nothing like someone who’d just caused a major incident. He casually picked up a dry twig from the ground and fiddled with it, sitting on the stone bench in the pavilion as if sketching something.

“You should go back. It’s already quite a spectacle that you came out looking for me; if you stay too long, people will talk.” He’d deliberately chosen a time when girls were least likely to come up the hill, and now he said, “I understand what you mean. The fact that you followed me out means more to me than you know.”

Yang Liushan felt a little embarrassed, but she didn’t move. Shaking her head, she said, “No, since I’m already here, I want to talk with you.”

Talk about love? Wen Xiaocheng kept that thought to himself. “Alright, what do you want to talk about?”

“Actually, you shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” After a long pause, Yang Liushan finally spoke.

“I may have seemed impulsive, but I wasn’t, really.” Wen Xiaocheng gave a dazzling smile. “You’ve seen them bully me—not just once or twice. By the way, I never thanked you for speaking up for me.”

“No need to thank me. I just couldn’t stand by and watch.”

Wen Xiaocheng shook his head. “No, I’m truly grateful. You’re the only one in the whole school who dared to say a word for me. Even many teachers wouldn’t get involved. I never thanked you in person, but I’ve always remembered it in my heart.” He kept his head down, drawing on the stone bench with the twig, as if muttering to himself. When he finally looked up at Yang Liushan, she blushed for reasons she couldn’t explain.

“Maybe it doesn’t mean much to you, but it means a lot to me! The teachers treat me like dirt, my classmates avoid me as if I’m contagious. I get dragged out and beaten every other day, come home covered in bruises but can’t even tell my family. All I get are looks of pity—few are willing to talk to me. Only you dared to stand up for what’s right. That’s almost the only reason I’ve managed to hold on, the only hope I have left.”

Yang Liushan blushed even more. She knew, translated, his words meant: you’re my goddess.

But Wen Xiaocheng stopped just short of a confession and changed the subject. “You know, they bully me every day. If I weren’t so thick-skinned, I’d probably have shut down long ago.” He gave a self-mocking shake of his head. “Five years ago, my dad lost his temper, grabbed a hatchet, and there was one dead, three injured. He didn’t die, but he left me here in school, living a life worse than death.”

His tone was calm, not betraying any real emotion. “A man’s wrath spills blood within five paces. My father’s name is Wen Xinwu. You’d never think a gentle, cultured man could have such fire.”

It was as if he were telling someone else’s story; his mood unchanged. Yang Liushan listened quietly. She’d heard most of it before.

“After that, my dad went to prison. Because it was partly self-defense, he wasn’t sentenced to death—twenty years. He’ll be almost sixty when he gets out. My mom couldn’t wait for him; after divorcing him, she left for another city and disappeared. Only my grandmother is left, selling candied hawthorns to support me. We owe hundreds of thousands in civil compensation. Every time they beat me, they say it’s justified—because I owe their families money.”

Yang Liushan felt awkward, uncertain whether to offer sympathy or comfort. Wen Xiaocheng just kept his head down, as if he weren’t talking to her at all.

“Every time I visit my dad in prison, all he says is, ‘You have to study hard.’ Easy to say, not so easy to do. For others, studying hard means being diligent. For me, it means enduring humiliation. Why do I carry my backpack home every noon? Because if I don’t take it, someone will pour soup or garbage into it the moment I turn away. When they beat me, I just cover my head—I don’t care about the rest, just don’t let them hit my face. I’m not afraid for myself, but if my grandma sees the bruises, she’ll cry…”

Yang Liushan sighed inwardly, filled with pity.

“Given how things are, do you think I could survive in this school until graduation?” Wen Xiaocheng finally looked up at her.

“Actually, you don’t have to endure it alone. You could tell the teachers…” Even as she said it, Yang Liushan herself didn’t sound convinced.

Wen Xiaocheng gave a wry smile. No need to say it—if teachers were any help, why would we need the police?

This time, Yang Liushan was truly at a loss for words.

“Zhang Peiyue’s father is the richest man in our town, got rich off demolitions. Qiu Hui is the big shot of our grade, and his family has influence. Lu Qi can take on six of me by himself. Even Ding Sina, with all her suitors—she could bury me with a wave of her hand. And me? I’m just the son of a murderer.”

“Don’t say that…”

Wen Xiaocheng smiled, “It’s fine, it’s the truth. My dad is in prison for murder. That makes him a killer. Because of that, he’s even respected in there! I used to feel ashamed to mention it, but now, thinking back, what does it matter? He cast a long shadow over me, yes, but in those circumstances, killing someone wasn’t exactly wrong.”

Yang Liushan didn’t know what to say—how could a girl comment on something like murder?

“My dad used to teach history at the city’s teacher training college. I’ve heard our school’s history teachers attended his classes. He was gentle and courteous, friendly to everyone, never spoke unless he was smiling. Even when I was mischievous, he rarely scolded me.”

A murderer, yet such a gentle teacher?

“That day, there was the roar of machines outside—bulldozers rumbling, our courtyard wall collapsing. Then a dozen men with steel pipes and pick handles rushed in. My dad shielded my grandmother and me behind him, grabbed a hatchet and charged. I don’t know how they beat him—I couldn’t see, my grandmother covered my eyes. The air was thick with the smell of blood…”

“For the first time, I thought my dad was really a man.”

“When they bully me, I sometimes think—my dad killed their people, maybe it’s only fair they take it out on me. Getting beaten is nothing. Back then, I hated my dad, but later I realized he wasn’t wrong. When a dozen men with weapons barge into your home, no man could tolerate that! No one wants it to come to this. I always thought, if I could just endure until graduation, we wouldn’t be in the same school in high school and things would be fine. But enduring is not the answer.”

“But, if you keep on like this…” Yang Liushan hesitated.

“I can handle it myself,” Wen Xiaocheng said confidently.

“I don’t know how to help you. I just hope you won’t give up on yourself.”

“Give up? How could I?” Wen Xiaocheng smiled. “At lunch, Qiu Hui or maybe Ding Sina kicked me in the head. I blacked out, but when I woke up, I realized a lot of things. So, this isn’t giving up—it’s making some necessary changes.”

After hearing him speak, Yang Liushan felt the boy before her had changed, yet she couldn’t say exactly how.

“The change is here.” Wen Xiaocheng tapped his temple.

———

Is this another cliché story of an underdog’s rise? Let me tell you: it’s not. Old Blade’s novels never follow formulas. If you’re interested, check out my previous works—“The Divine Scam” for some humor, and see if it’s like other supernatural stories, or “All Because of Black Stockings” and see if it’s the same as other reincarnation tales. This book is the same—the golden finger is high intelligence; all problems are solved through thinking, no relying on powerful patrons or miraculous cheats. The superpower in this book? You can have it too.