Chapter 80: Thugs or Cowards

“My Reflection.” Xiao Cheng’s voice was low and resonant, rising and falling like a recitation of poetry rather than the dispirited confession one might expect.

“Three days ago, a violent brawl broke out at school. The instigator—was none other than myself.” As he spoke, the crowd below erupted in raucous approval, but Xiao Cheng seemed unfazed, exuding an almost cavalier arrogance, as though he looked down upon the world.

“We are classmates under the same roof, neighbors in spirit and students of the same institution. How did we come to draw swords against one another?”

Director Chen watched from above with a smile, while Principal Niu muttered to himself, “Even his self-criticism has to be so pretentious? And with suspense, no less!”

“Is it because I, Wen Xiao Cheng, am cruel and merciless? Why don’t I beat up anyone else?”

At these words, the tone shifted dramatically.

“Five years ago, a vicious armed assault took place in this very town. One dead, three injured—five families plunged into suffering. The perpetrator was my father, Wen Xinwu! He is currently serving time at the Second People’s Prison of Yang City. Was my father a madman? He was a history teacher!”

The fight three days ago, the killing five years ago—a thread of fate seemed to bind them.

Even Director Chen by the principal’s office window looked shaken. This confession—it cuts to the bone.

“I am the son of a murderer.”

“Because I am the murderer’s son, my classmates view me with cold indifference; because I am the murderer’s son, even teachers keep their distance; because I am the murderer’s son, I am meant to be bullied. I am the murderer’s son, they are the victims’ families—so it is only right that they beat me…”

“Now I finally understand why my father killed.”

“The purpose of this reflection isn’t to humiliate me, nor is the school targeting me. I believe the point is to learn from this, weigh the gains and losses, share insights, and prevent similar incidents in the future.”

“Two years ago, I entered this school as a new student, full of dreams for my secondary school life. I never imagined I’d make enemies, much less come to blows. That day, a senior named Qiu Hui dragged me behind the bike shed, slapped me across the face, kicked me three times, and said he would beat me every time he saw me. That was the beginning of my nightmare.”

“Perhaps you know the pain of a fist, but you can’t imagine the fear and humiliation. So many times, crawling up from the ground, all I could think about was murder—only blood could wash away my shame! Thank goodness I didn’t lose control. I only beat him up. And when I did—my heart soared!”

“I know it was wrong. But if I could do it over again, I’d do the same. Because no one is perfect, and everyone makes mistakes. I would rather stand here and confess my fault than be an obedient child who swallows his humiliation.”

“But then, was I really wrong? I hit him because he had bullied me almost every day for two years. Was Qiu Hui wrong? To him, bullying me was justified—my father had slashed his father, and he was only avenging his family! Was my father wrong? A dozen men stormed our yard with clubs while he stood between his elderly mother and his young son. And were those men he wounded wrong? They were merely following orders from above…”

“So whose fault is it, in the end?”

“How should I even write this self-criticism?”

Upstairs, Principal Niu grew anxious and wanted to intervene, but Director Chen stopped him. “Let him finish.”

“I know violence is wrong. I know we should care for each other as classmates. But even knowing it was wrong, I still did it—because violence is the only language he understands! And if he doesn’t get it, I’ll keep beating him until he does!”

“I want him, all of you, everyone, to understand one thing: don’t provoke the son of a murderer, no matter how weak or easy to bully he may seem! Because one day, if you push him too far, he will hit you—he might even kill!”

“Anyone who is truly pushed to the edge is capable of killing. So for heaven’s sake, don’t go too far!”

He had lost control now. Upstairs, Director Chen narrowed his eyes and said nothing. Principal Niu frantically signaled to Vice Principal Zhou, sweat beading on his brow. But with the leader present, Zhou dared not interrupt for fear of displeasing him, and so the standoff continued as Wen Xiao Cheng carried on.

“Why did I make this mistake? Because I had no choice! If I didn’t fight back, Qiu Hui would keep on tormenting me. They had already peed in my backpack. Who knows when they’d do it on my head? If I didn’t use violence, no one would respect me. Even if you say nothing, you’d sneer inwardly: ‘Coward!’ If I didn’t use violence, I couldn’t face myself. If not for this mistake, I’d spend my life as some pathetic doormat!”

“This world forced me to choose—be a waste, or a thug! So I chose the latter, without regrets!”

“When ordinary means can no longer defend one’s dignity, violence is not a crime! I admit I beat Qiu Hui, but if all the blame for this falls on me—then I refuse to accept it!”

“I—do—not—accept!”

Wen Xiao Cheng glared with bloodshot eyes, shouting hoarsely.

“The strong flaunt, the weak are mocked.
The gentle scholar picks up the butcher’s blade.
Better a thug than a coward.
Whatever my faults, at least I stand tall!
All this righteousness, all this pretense—
Who, in the end, should be confessing?
Who can tell right from wrong?
Who can know the anger in my heart?
The heavens are bright, the heavens are bright!
Good and evil have their reward, or do they?
Damn—damn it all!”

After the last, anguished cry, Xiao Cheng began to sing—a hoarse, self-composed rock ballad, his own lyrics, his own melody. With it, he swept away the gloom in his heart, sounding uncannily like Wang Feng. For two years, he had borne humiliation in silence, with no one to confide in, carrying a burden heavier than mountains.

The strong are celebrated, the weak are objects of scorn—such is the world. You must choose: be a coward, or a thug! Violence is the basest of tools, deserving only contempt. Yet in reality, violence never lacks a market, for we live in a society so crude that only crude methods can answer its crudeness.

This should not be Wen Xiao Cheng’s confession alone—it should be a confession for all of society. What gives violence its market? Who turns gentle souls into brutes?

Either abandon your dignity and become a coward, or defend it and become a thug…

In the environment Wen Xiao Cheng endured, how could he feel any affection for this school? Perhaps he had embarrassed Principal Niu, but who cared? Xiao Cheng only wanted a moment of catharsis—after two years of repression, was he not allowed a single release?

Genius, after all, has the privilege of rebellion.

The entire school was left stunned. Upstairs, Director Chen watched with narrowed eyes and a subtle, amused smile. “Not a bad song.”

——————

Everyone knows that people cannot be perfect, yet so often parents and schools hold children to a standard of perfection. Children must be allowed to make mistakes, and books should be allowed to hold differing views.

I wrote this chapter four times, deleting about ten thousand words in the process. If speed were my goal, I could have had a massive update. The pay for online writers is tied to word count, so this approach is a loss for me. But income should not be a writer’s sole pursuit, so I will remain true to myself. For those who find the wait hard to bear, I hope you’ll understand.

I want every word I write to be worth something—to deserve the money and the time you spend on it.