Chapter 1 Returning to School for His Sister
Chen Jiahua was sitting comfortably in his room, thoroughly enjoying a classical music CD gifted by a friend—the album titled Night at Dongliang Bridge. His peaceful moment was abruptly interrupted by the sudden “bang” of the door being flung open.
Startled, he looked up to see none other than the old man of the house, his father, who seemed to be in one of his inexplicable foul moods again.
“Ah Hua, come out for a moment,” the old man said gruffly.
Chen Jiahua stubbed out the cigarette in his hand against the side of an old, battered nightstand. He shifted to sit on the edge of his bed, puzzled, and asked, “What’s up?”
“I said, come out!” his father barked, his face darkening. Chen Jiahua felt a shiver run down his spine and hurriedly jumped off the bed. Sliding his feet into a pair of worn-out flip-flops, faded beyond recognition, he followed his father into the living room.
His mother wasn’t home. She worked as a Chinese language teacher at a nearby middle school and was often too busy to be around. As for the rest of the family? Chen Jiahua had a younger sister who had just gotten into college, but she was nowhere to be seen—likely out enjoying the summer break after surviving her grueling final year of high school.
“Ah Hua,” his father started as they reached the living room. “Your mom and I have talked about this for a long time. We can’t let you just waste away at home like this anymore.”
“And?” Chen Jiahua responded, casually reaching for an old enamel cup on the coffee table. Just as he was about to take a sip, his father snatched it out of his hands.
Chen Jiahua squinted at the enamel cup, noticing the words printed on it: 1989 Model Worker of Jiajing City. He momentarily blanked out, forgetting that this was his father’s favorite cup.
But it was clear that the old man hadn’t snatched the cup because of its sentimental value. It was simply his habit—when having a serious talk, both parties were expected to focus, without any distractions.
Awkwardly, Chen Jiahua placed his hands back on his thighs and said with a sheepish grin, “Alright, Dad, just spit it out. We’re father and son, no need for all the formality.”
Hearing this, the old man’s expression softened slightly. Yet as he began to speak, his brow furrowed again.
“Ah Hua, you know your sister’s leaving for college at the end of August, right? I’ve been reading the news recently, and there’ve been so many reports of heinous crimes. The more I think about it, the more uneasy I feel.”
That’s it? Chen Jiahua thought his father was overreacting. Stories about roommates harming each other, obsessive suitors throwing acid in fits of rage—sure, they were horrifying, but weren’t those incidents rare?
He began to explain—mentioning the statistical improbability of serious crimes happening on a college campus. He even joked that, with his sister’s peculiar personality, she might scare off any potential troublemakers before they could act.
But his father wasn’t buying it. He waved his hand dismissively and retorted, “If something did happen to your sister, your stupid probabilities wouldn’t matter one bit. And you think bad guys care about personality?”
Well, that was that. They were talking past each other, as usual. Chen Jiahua shut his mouth, realizing—once again—that his father wasn’t here for a real discussion. This was one of those “democratic debates” where the final decision had already been made, and his role was just to comply.
“So, Dad, what’s the plan?” Chen Jiahua asked with resignation.
“Your mom and I have decided,” the old man began. “We’ll rent an apartment near her school. You’ll move in with her. Pick her up and drop her off every day, cook meals, do laundry, and whatever else needs to be done.”
“What?!” Chen Jiahua laughed incredulously. “Dad, are you serious? That’s like signing a slave contract with me! When Chen Jiapei was in her second year of high school, didn’t she live in the dorms for a whole year? Why didn’t you insist on her staying home back then?”
He thought he’d made a solid argument, pointing out a contradiction in his father’s logic. But the old man just chuckled dismissively, as if he’d been waiting for this question.
“That’s exactly why! If your mom hadn’t decided to bring her back home that year, do you think she’d have gotten into Jiajing University?”
“(*⊙~⊙)...” Chen Jiahua was left speechless.
The thought of his carefree, unrestrained lifestyle over the past few years coming to an abrupt end filled him with dread. Summoning his courage, he made one last attempt to negotiate.
“Dad, Jiapei’s about to be an adult. She should learn to live independently. How about this: I’ll find her a secure apartment with good safety measures. As for me doing her laundry, cooking, and chauffeuring her around—let’s forget about that, alright?”
“Absolutely not!” his father thundered, slamming his palm on the coffee table. The impact was so forceful that the enamel cup, half-full of tea, nearly jumped off the surface.
Chen Jiahua fell silent.
For a while, the father and son sat in an awkward stalemate, neither speaking. Chen Jiahua gritted his teeth, considering whether to just agree to his father’s demand. After all, once they were away from home, who would know who was actually doing the cooking and laundry? If his sister ate her own food and handled some chores herself, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.
This thought brightened his mood a little, lifting the oppressive gloom the old man’s proposal had cast over him.
"How about—" both of them started speaking simultaneously. Chen Jiahua paused, stunned. Could his father be compromising for once?
Reaching for a plastic cup to sip some water and ease the tension, Chen Jiahua prepared to hear him out.
“Ahem,” his father cleared his throat and began solemnly, “If you agree to go back to school, the apartment idea is off the table.”
“Pfft—” The water that had just entered Chen Jiahua’s mouth almost came spraying out, but he managed to hold most of it back, turning his head aside in a half-choke.
“Dad, I’m already twenty-four, almost twenty-five! If I go back to school now, I’ll be nearly thirty by the time I graduate. And if, by some miracle, I decide to go for a master’s or PhD—or worse, get roped into becoming a future academic by some professor—you’ll never see a daughter-in-law at this rate!”
Go back to school? What kind of joke was this? If anyone he knew caught wind of this, he’d become the laughingstock of the town.
But the old man seemed genuinely enthused by the idea. “Think about it! If you go back to school, first, you’ll be able to keep an eye on your sister while you’re there. And second, there are plenty of girls on campus! You’d have a much better chance of finding a girlfriend than you do now, wasting your life away out here.”
Chen Jiahua’s academic past was a point of pride in the family. He’d scored fifth in liberal arts in Jiajing City back in the college entrance exams, which had served as inspiration for his sister to aim high and get into the prestigious Jiajing University, one of the top three universities in the country.
“Dad, you’re oversimplifying things. It’s not that easy to re-enroll after being expelled for so many years. We don’t have any connections at the school. Who’s going to help us get this done?”
Then, attempting to sidestep the whole discussion, Chen Jiahua proposed, “How about this: I’ll pay for the apartment rent and her living expenses myself. But let’s drop this idea of me going back to school. Deal?”
“No deal!” his father declared, slamming his palm on the coffee table. The impact sent the enamel cup wobbling dangerously. “You’ve got some nerve bringing up your expulsion! What’s your current education level, huh? High school diploma! You think you can drift aimlessly forever? No way. Go back, finish your degree. We’re not asking you to do a master’s.”
Chen Jiahua wanted to keep arguing but realized from his father’s deathly serious expression—like a man ready to “die on this hill”—that resistance was futile. Begrudgingly, he muttered, “Fine, fine. I’ll talk to a few people and see if it’s possible.”
With that, he pushed the door open and stormed out.
Not long after, as he trudged along the street, he ran into his mother on her way home from work. She called out to him, but without turning his head, he replied, “I’ve got something to take care of. Don’t save me lunch.”
Perplexed, his mother went home, only to find her husband sitting on the sofa, grinning from ear to ear while watching a war drama on TV. The show, My Brother’s Name is Shunliu, was in full swing when she snatched the remote and turned off the television.
“What’s going on?” the old man asked, baffled.
“You tell me! I just ran into Ah Hua on the way back, and he looked furious. What did you say to him?”
“Nothing much,” he replied casually, “just told him to find a place near Jiajing University to live with Jiapei and help her out.”
His wife raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? I told you, Jiapei’s old enough to live on her own. She needs to grow up someday. What’s next? After she gets married, will you make Ah Hua move in with her too?”
Faced with her relentless criticism, the old man resorted to recounting the grim news stories he’d read about campus crimes. But his wife dismissed his concerns with a snort. “If you don’t give me a real explanation by lunch, you can forget eating today.”
Left with no choice, the old man spilled the beans, proudly detailing how Chen Jiahua had “nobly volunteered” to go back to school. Seeing his wife nod in approval, he puffed up with pride and added,
“Pretty clever of me, right? You don’t know this, but Ah Hua’s third uncle has been looking down his nose at me lately. His son barely scraped by into Jiajing University, and they’ve been acting like they hit the lottery.
Now it’s our turn to shine!”
Despite his words, even he couldn’t deny that a degree from a top-three university was an impressive achievement. His third brother’s son may have just made it past the cut-off, but he was still leagues ahead of the average student.
“Think about it,” the old man continued smugly. “If Ah Hua tries to get a degree from some adult education program, he’d be better off collecting recyclables on Jiajing University’s campus. At least that’d have more dignity.”
The comparison was absurdly exaggerated, but it captured the deep respect society still held for graduates of elite universities.
Chen Jiahua’s mother felt a mix of joy and sadness. If her son really did go back to school, it would be a great thing for his future. But if he re-enrolled, it also meant he probably wouldn’t be living at home anymore.
