Chapter 55: A Polite Provocation

The early self-study session had already begun. Even someone like Qiu Hui, known for his unruly behavior, was sitting quietly in the classroom. The third-year curriculum was more demanding, and their homeroom teacher, Mr. Qin, had even commandeered the morning session. At the front stood the teacher, and every seat was taken by senior students. All eyes were fixed on Wen Xiaocheng standing at the doorway.

He knocked first, speaking politely, but the image that flashed through everyone’s mind was Qiu Hui kicking open the door and cursing the teacher just yesterday. The atmosphere was awkward. Every third-year student present knew that Wen Xiaocheng was issuing a challenge. Qiu Hui’s face was twisted with rage, while Mr. Qin at the podium was completely at a loss.

Xiaocheng, standing by the door, nodded towards Lü Qi’s seat as a greeting, then shot Qiu Hui a scornful look, as if to say: “Well? Are you coming?” A true gang leader never rushes in to wield a knife himself; that's what the red poles are for. Now, Wen Xiaocheng was politely throwing down the gauntlet at the door—“Weren’t you looking for me? I’m here. Do you dare come out?” The advantage of this time slot was clear: only one person could come, and Qiu Hui’s cronies could do nothing but glare helplessly.

Another dilemma—what now? If Qiu Hui didn’t go out now but waited until after class to bring his gang, he’d lose all standing as a leader! If word got out that he’d been cornered alone by a second-year, called out by name in front of the whole class and didn’t dare face him, his reputation would be in tatters. But if he did go out, Qiu Hui wasn’t sure he could take Xiaocheng in a fight. He was a year older, but in height and build, he had no real advantage. Physically, he was no better off than Zhang Peiyue, who’d been beaten to a pulp by Xiaocheng—Qiu Hui wouldn’t fare any better.

Qiu Hui hesitated, but Mr. Qin, growing impatient, barked, “If you’ve got business, go deal with it—quickly now!”

There was no backing out now.

At the classroom door, Wen Xiaocheng remained unfailingly polite, his smile warm as he said, “Senior Qiu Hui, I heard you came to our class looking for me yesterday. What was it about?”

Qiu Hui ground his teeth in fury, but alone against Xiaocheng, he dared not make the first move. All he could do was snarl, “What did you say to Lü Qi yesterday?”

Xiaocheng smiled. “I just said the weather was nice today.”

This time, Qiu Hui was beyond words, forced to channel his anger through his glare alone.

“You should ask Seventh Master about that! Whatever I say, you won’t believe me anyway.”

“Damn it! What spell did you cast over Old Seven?”

“You really want to know?”

“Speak!” The veins on Qiu Hui’s forehead bulged.

At this, Xiaocheng’s smile faded. He straightened, his tone serious. “Lü Qi asked me to meet him on the rooftop. He said he wanted to stand up for his brother. I asked him, ‘Who’s your brother?’ He told me, ‘Qiu Hui.’ And I laughed and asked him—how can the son of a county official and the son of a laborer be brothers?”

“You bastard! You’re trying to sow discord between us!”

Xiaocheng sneered, “Brothers? Do you really see him as a brother? To you, Lü Qi is nothing but a thug! In a month, you third-years will take your entrance exams. With your connections, no matter how poorly you do, you’ll get into the county’s top high school. But Lü Qi? If he doesn’t pass, he’ll have to go home and swing a sledgehammer with his father, hauling cement! True brothers share fortune and hardship. If you could get him a spot at that high school, I’d believe you’re brothers!”

This retort left Qiu Hui red-faced. A place at County First High School was worth at least fifty thousand yuan! His father was the Chief of the Basic Education Division at the county education bureau and called the shots at all the local schools, but those spots were reserved for favors. To promise another for Lü Qi—who would dare make that guarantee?

“Can’t do it, can you? Being your brother means standing up for you, fighting your battles, but when you have a future, you won’t even spare him a glance. Such brotherhood isn’t worth having! Am I sowing discord? Haven’t you ever considered, for all your talk of brotherhood, what you’re really thinking?”

These words struck at the heart. When Qiu Hui first befriended Lü Qi, there was indeed some calculation—having him nearby meant even the older students wouldn’t dare mess with him. Still, three years in the same class had created some genuine feelings. To say their friendship was pure exploitation would be unfair.

“Do you hate me?” Instead, Xiaocheng stepped closer. “Honestly, I should be the one hating you! Five years ago, it was your fathers and their group who stormed into my family’s courtyard, setting off everything that followed. Now, you’re the ones pushing me, making me fight back! You think you and Lü Qi are the same? You’re not! He’s just an innocent victim! Five years ago, my father struck out, causing one death and three injuries, and paid for it with prison—he deserved his fate. But you all rushed into my house armed, and whatever happened was your own fault! Lü Qi’s father was paid a hundred yuan to come along, and when things went wrong, nobody cared about him! If fate demands that one of us must die between you and me, then let there be no complaints—but don’t drag Lü Qi down with you! If you have a shred of humanity left!”

“We all owe Old Lü’s family. My father owes his father a knife wound, and you all owe him an explanation!”

As for the bloody case five years ago, Qiu Hui didn’t really know the details. He’d only been eleven, not present at the scene. He remembered his father being injured, hospital visits, police investigations—only fragments pieced together from adult conversations. He knew even less about Lü Qi’s family. Xiaocheng’s words left him uncertain.

“Tell me, you want him to fight for you, to go to jail if he kills me—how can you call that brotherhood? You accuse me of sowing discord, but I’m only telling him the simplest truth: ‘Big brothers’ like you are nothing but scum!”

“Damn you!” Qiu Hui was no match for Xiaocheng in words. Enraged, he threw a punch.

But before the punch was even a third of the way, Xiaocheng had already read his move. His mind instantly spun out half a dozen ways to counter, but he didn’t strike back. Raising his arm to block, he let the force spin him sideways, crashing through the door of Class 3-4, then tumbling headlong to the floor before the podium—a flawless performance, worthy of a textbook on street scams.

“Teacher, Qiu Hui hit me!” he cried, the picture of innocence.

His acting fooled everyone. The classmates all knew Qiu Hui was seething, and with his temper, he’d cause trouble even in front of a teacher, let alone outside. No one doubted the claim, and the dilemma now landed squarely in the homeroom teacher’s lap.

Qiu Hui’s father was an education official, and Mr. Qin understood the situation well—this required a delicate touch.

“Don’t fight, Qiu Hui. Go back to your seat,” Mr. Qin said.

From the floor, Wen Xiaocheng climbed to his feet, fixing the teacher with a cold stare and demanding, “Your student hits someone, and as homeroom teacher, you’re just going to let it go?”

The teacher was momentarily speechless.

Xiaocheng hadn’t expected an answer. “You won’t handle it? Fine, I’ll deal with it myself!”

———

Fighting might seem all about strength, but in truth, there’s a lot of strategy. Sometimes, a little act goes a long way.