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墨書 Inktalez
The school, like a person, has remained the same for ten years, still retaining its old characteristics: a four-story teaching building, a six-story dormitory, and a greasy cafeteria squeezed between two lowly shops that are too short to stand up straight in. There is also a large playground overgrown with weeds.
"It has changed a little," Nanfeng said.
Upon closer inspection, it was true; the giant honor roll posted on the side of the teaching building had finally succumbed to the ravages of wind and rain and was taken down. The corridors above the second floor were sealed with iron bars to reduce the suicide rate within the school, and a rubber track had been laid on the playground, unlike when they had physical education classes back in their day, running like short-legged horses in a sandstorm.
"The style of the school uniform hasn't changed at all; it's been over ten years and it's still shockingly ugly. At least it balances things out; these kids aren't living any better than we did."
A girl with a ponytail wearing a burlap school uniform and carrying an enormous backpack passed by Ke Li listlessly.
"Summer vacation is just around the corner. Do you remember that incident? In the bathroom with Luo Muye."
At the mention of that name, any sense of schadenfreude instantly felt out of place. Ke Li looked toward the direction of the boys' and girls' restrooms. Thirteen-year-old Ke Li pulled twelve-year-old Nanfeng along as they rushed toward the restroom like they were racing to grab discounted vegetables at a market.
Just thinking about it made her stomach turn. The basic structure of the student restroom consisted of two rectangular pits covered with a layer of cement, each with twenty holes dug out on one side—forty holes in total—completely exposed. While it was manageable on the sides, no one would deliberately turn their head to look at someone else's backside; what was terrifying was facing someone directly. Some shy and introverted girls would hold it in until late at night to sneak into the restroom quietly, as if they were trying to steal something.
The level of filth could be left to one's imagination.
The girls' restroom was bad enough; the boys' restroom was even worse. Naturally, Ke Li had never been inside to see for herself, but she had a deep olfactory memory of boys coming out of there—fermented ammonia mixed with smoke, like a walking bottle of menthol oil that invigorated the senses.
That year, she and Nanfeng were in eighth grade, sitting at the same desk and inseparable.
That incident had nothing to do with them; it was about a boy named Luo Muye who was stabbed to death in the restroom by several male students wielding utility knives and then stuffed into one of those pits, sinking into excrement.
Luo Muye was extremely small for his age, resembling a third or fourth grader. This was their reason for bullying him and also why he could be easily tossed down into the pit.
His family was poor; they were rural low-income households. When the school helped him apply for assistance, they dug up all his family's poverty factors—the slanted earthen walls, dark rooms without sunlight, and an old stove from last century—and displayed them on a bulletin board in photo form for everyone to see in order to garner sympathy and encourage donations.
In the central photo, Luo Muye stared blankly at you; behind him stood his father with polio, rolling up his pant legs to reveal his deformed calves, while his mother gaped with half her tongue sticking out.
Look how miserable they are! Class teachers walked into classrooms holding donation boxes asking for contributions—fifty cents or a dollar—while some tossed in a ten-cent coin only to receive cold stares from teachers.
Fortunately, in the end, there was some funding specifically allocated for Luo Muye.
That day was bright but cold; all faculty and students stood below the stage. The camera had been set up early. Under everyone's watchful eyes, the principal solemnly handed Luo Muye a crumpled stack of bills. Luo Muye accepted the money and deeply bowed to the principal before turning around to bow deeply again to all faculty and students. Then the principal placed his hand on Luo Muye's shoulder and smiled compassionately at the camera. However, Luo Muye lacked acting talent; his smile appeared too stiff and they had to retake it several times before it was deemed acceptable.
Ke Li gazed at where the stage used to be; now it stood empty, yet she felt she could still hear everyone's thunderous applause.
" Nanfeng, do you think that counts as bullying?"
"It's hard to say, but one thing is certain: that incident marked the beginning of bullying."
Luo Muye's family was impoverished; he couldn't afford meals which stunted his growth. His father was disabled, and his mother had her tongue cut off when she was young. Luo Muye relied on everyone's donations just to attend school—why should they have to pay for him? Luo Muye owed everyone money and favors!
Seeing him just rubbed people the wrong way!
He had Cabbage Stew with Meat for lunch today! Spending our money!
He bought a thick stack of writing paper from the convenience store, which was a whole dollar more expensive than the thin kind!
Shameless, you're just a filthy beggar!
Stay away from me! Do you know how bad you smell? You can't afford clothes, but you can always buy laundry detergent, right? You haven't changed in days! Also, the dormitory water is free; can't you take a shower? Look at your neck; you could scrape mud off it!
I really hate that beggar from Class Two—
"Bullying is never sudden; it often has a gradual process. It starts with verbal offenses, and when they find you submissive and easy to bully, they latch onto one of your small flaws and magnify it endlessly, portraying you as an unbearable, filthy, thieving villain. This leads everyone to isolate you, slander you, spread rumors about you, and mentally bully you. Consequently, the physical abuse they later inflict on you becomes justifiable in their eyes."
"So, those involved in bullying are usually not just a few individuals but everyone in the group. Some are responsible for destroying the victim's spirit, while others inflict physical harm. Physical injuries can be pursued for accountability, but mental damage is irreparable; it lingers for a lifetime without any punishment."
"Yeah—" Ke Li sighed, "but the fact is no one is held accountable for Luo Muye's death."
Everyone hated Luo Muye.
Everyone cursed this leech named Luo Muye to disappear quickly.
Thus, those who habitually bullied the weak carried the banner of justice to help everyone turn their grievances and anger into bricks, sticks, fists, and excrement... all aimed at Luo Muye's frail body.
Some knelt in worship, some watched coldly from the sidelines, and some turned it into a joke that spread everywhere...
What were Ke Li and Nanfeng doing at that time?
Ke Li thought carefully; well, at that time, the homeroom teacher was worried about them. The two of them chattered endlessly together. When separated, one was placed in the front row by the wall and the other next to the trash can in the back row. They were separated by the longest diagonal line possible; notes often had to cross mountains and rivers to reach each other. This time it was good; not only did they become restless, but all the students on that diagonal also got busy. Occasionally someone would intercept a note halfway and share their opinion. The homeroom teacher was so angry she gritted her teeth but ultimately lost to their persistence and rearranged them back together.
They were fortunate enough to miss that mental bullying directed at Luo Muye because they were too close-knit.
If Ke Li remembered correctly, "Nanfeng, when we were separated, your deskmate was Luo Muye, right?"
"You remembered wrong; Luo Muye sat in front of me; his friend was my deskmate."
"He has friends?"
"One; he's from the same village as him. They both have similar personalities and don't like to talk much. My temporary deskmate was so ordinary that basically no one paid attention."
"Uh."
Being unnoticed is a good thing; unlike Luo Muye, every corner of the campus was filled with disdain for him.
Because no one intervened, bullying escalated further. What exactly happened that day in the boys' restroom is widely debated but remains uncertain.
It was a twenty-minute break; the restroom was crowded with people. Surely someone witnessed the entire process of Luo Muye being killed. However, Luo Muye hadn't returned home for a month; his mother anxiously came looking for him but couldn't find him and eventually learned that her son was missing.
Where did he go missing? How long has it been?
No one knows, no, no one is speaking.
His mum, who spoke unclearly, gestured as she talked, sweating profusely. The school couldn't provide answers, so she had to turn to the police.
After ruling out various possibilities such as running away from home, being bullied by classmates, or leaving campus, the police relied on their years of investigative intuition to uncover clues hidden within the collective silence of all the students. Children can't withstand fear; when questioned individually, they would spill everything out of fright.
Soon, the police recovered the remains of Luo Muye from a toilet pit in the boys' restroom.
The bullies were taken away and then brought back again.
They were below the age of criminal responsibility.
Class teachers warned students not to go out and talk recklessly, not to discuss them, and not to disclose their personal information; otherwise, the police would take you away!
"But was Luo Muye at an age where he could be harmed?"
With no students around, Ke Li stepped into a concealed spot, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag. Even ten years later, when this matter was brought up again, she couldn't help but shed tears of anger for that young boy.
"He was kind and sincere, always thinking of others," Nanfeng leaned against the wall beside Ke Li. "He saw I was eager to go out and play with you and voluntarily helped me with my duties. He had steamed buns with pickles for lunch. When I rubbed my nose because it was itchy, he immediately panicked and apologized to me. He wrapped the pickles in a plastic bag and held onto the steamed bun to nibble on."
Ke Li wiped her moist eyes and waved her hand. "Stop talking; if you keep going, my makeup will run."
Luo Muye was truly a wonderful person...
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