Chapter 35: He’s a Lunatic
Third-year junior high school coursework was already heavy, and on top of that, Yang Jiabo had to take care of Grandma Yang, leaving him looking haggard and listless. When he went to school, his classmates would stare at him with strange looks, whispering behind his back.
“How could that be? After being classmates for over two years, don’t you know Yang Jiabo? Sure, he talks less and doesn’t interact much, but he’s completely normal.”
“But everyone says he’s mentally ill. He was even hospitalized for attempting suicide.”
“Right, have you noticed the scars on his wrist?”
Yang Jiabo overheard his classmates’ conversation. In his previous life, after he fell ill, people had also looked at him with the same strange eyes, avoiding him like snakes and scorpions, as if he carried some contagious disease. That incident should have happened nearly two years ago, why were people still bringing it up now?
[避他如蛇蝎 (bì tā rú shéxiē): lit. avoid him like snakes and scorpions; fig. shun someone as if they were dangerous or toxic.]
Only his parents knew about the doctor’s diagnosis regarding his mental state. Yang Jiabo was certain his father wouldn’t spread such things. His mother, though she was selfish and a bit foolish, wasn’t the type to gossip, if she had wanted to talk, she would have done so long ago.
“Yang Jiabo, Teacher Jin wants to see you in the office,” the class monitor called from the doorway.
Yang Jiabo stood up, irritably running a hand through his hair. There was no avoiding this. The moment he left the classroom, the whispers started up again.
“The teacher called him in to talk about him being a lunatic, right?”
“Must be. Look at how awful he’s been looking lately, do you think he’s sick?”
“Who knows?”
Yang Jiabo arrived at the homeroom teacher’s office, a large room shared by over a dozen teachers. Aside from their homeroom teacher, Ms. Jin, three other teachers were present. Ms. Jin had only become their homeroom teacher in their second year, after their previous teacher got married and transferred.
On her wedding day, the entire class had skipped school to deliver gifts, only to be chased around the school by the principal, with many students getting caught. Yang Jiabo had slipped away early and given their kind-hearted teacher a generous red envelope. She was one of the few people who made him feel warmth.
As for the new homeroom teacher, Ms. Jin, Yang Jiabo despised her. She openly discriminated against students with poor grades or from disadvantaged families. In their third year, she constantly pulled underperforming students aside, pressuring them to voluntarily withdraw from the high school entrance exams. If they did, their scores wouldn’t count toward the school’s advancement rate.
[升学率 (shēngxuélǜ): lit. advancement rate; fig. the percentage of students advancing to higher education, often used as a measure of a school's performance]
She frequently collected fees for materials, ordering piles of practice exams. It was a common practice in third year, so no one blamed her for that. But when there weren’t enough test papers to go around, she’d skip the weaker students. Once, a student snapped, slamming the desk and demanding to know why he hadn’t gotten one despite paying.
Ms. Jin claimed there weren’t enough and that he wouldn’t do them anyway. The student threatened to take her to the education bureau, and the class, disliking her, joined in, driving her to tears until she fled.
One student, a relative of the principal, received special treatment from Ms. Jin and acted arrogantly, leading to his isolation by the others.
Ms. Jin had originally taught at a now-defunct factory-affiliated school. After its closure, staff and students were redistributed. By merit, she shouldn’t have qualified for their prestigious No. 1 High School, her English pronunciation was so poor even Wei Jing struggled to understand. But she had connections, securing not just a position but also the homeroom teacher role for Yang Jiabo’s class.
“Ms. Jin, you wanted to see me?” Yang Jiabo approached her desk.
“Have a seat.” She gestured to a stool beside her. Once he sat, she said, “You’ve been looking unwell lately, and your grades are slipping. Are you feeling okay?”
Yang Jiabo shook his head. “Just family matters keeping me up.”
“You’re a student. Your focus should be on your studies. Let your parents handle the rest.”
“Ms. Jin, my grandmother is bedridden and needs constant care. My father works to support us, and my mother tends to her. Is it wrong for me to help?”
“Filial piety is good, but your future depends on your education. If it’s too much, have you considered hiring a caregiver?” Her tone faltered, she knew his farming family couldn’t afford one.
“We tried, but Grandma’s temper drives them away.”
Ms. Jin dismissed this as an excuse. “There are rumors about you attempting suicide and having… mental instability. I need to understand the situation.”
Yang Jiabo smiled coldly. “Two years ago, there were also rumors about zombies—”
“The school prioritizes safety. I’m just gathering facts, don’t overthink it.” Her smile was strained. “May I see your scars?”
Knowing hiding was pointless, Yang Jiabo rolled up his sleeves, revealing a scar on his wrist and another gruesome one on his arm.
“How did this happen?” Her suspicion solidified.
“Boys play with knives and sometimes get hurt.”
“I heard these are from two suicide attempts, and that you’re prone to outbursts.”
“You’d make a great detective,” he sneered.
“Don’t be defensive. We’re responsible for other students’ safety. The school takes this seriously. Bring your parents in.”
“And then?” His gaze pierced her.
“If your mental state is confirmed unstable, you’ll be expelled.”
“Understood. I’ll tell my father.” He left, seething. Returning to class was unbearable, he needed to find out who betrayed him.
After school, Yang Jiabo detoured through back alleys to a two-story house. After hesitating, he knocked.
“Who is it?” A lazy voice answered. The door opened to reveal a heavily made-up girl dressed like a delinquent.
“Qiu-jie, it’s Jiajia.” He smiled warmly, her appearance didn’t faze him. To others, Qiu-jie and her friends were societal rejects, but many were just kids of broken homes.
“Jiajia! What brings the model student here?”
“I’m in trouble. Might get expelled.”
“Fight? Knocked someone up?”
“Get real.” He explained the rumors. Qiu-jie, well-connected, agreed to investigate.
“Find the source, and I’ll treat your crew to barbecue.”
“Want us to rough them up?”
“Just identity them for now.”
As he left, she called after him, “Hey, my makeup’s not that bad!”
At home, Yang Jiabo told his parents. His mother erupted: “Who’s spreading this? I’ll tear their mouth apart!”
His father remained calm. “I’ll handle it tomorrow. Without proof, it’s just rumors.”
The next day, at school, Yang Jiabo’s father confronted the teacher. The expulsion threat was dropped, but the whispers persisted.
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