Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Teacher Zhao walked in, having gone to get us some water. I placed the hot water she handed me in front of Wang Mai, signaling that he could drink. Wang Mai remained unmoved, like the most lifelike wax figure, silent and unresponsive.
Noticing our helplessness, Teacher Zhao said, "This child, Wang Mai, won't respond to anything you ask him. He won't pay attention to you; it's useless."
I glanced at Teacher Zhao and asked, "Have you informed Wang Mai's parents about this situation?"
"No," Teacher Zhao replied.
I nodded and said, "In that case, please notify his parents to come. It's necessary for them to understand what's happening."
As I spoke, I observed Wang Mai's reaction, trying to discern whether he wanted his parents to come or not. If he didn't want them there, he would surely speak up to stop it. But after a moment of waiting, Wang Mai continued to stare blankly at us, not uttering a word, as if he were performing in a silent play.
Teacher Zhao sighed and said, "This child is just like this; it's no use."
I frowned and said, "Please make the call. The two of us will talk with this child."
Teacher Zhao glanced at me awkwardly before nodding and stepping outside.
Although Teacher Zhao had revealed that Wang Mai was being bullied, it seemed she had relieved herself of her own torment and burden. However, she still did not understand who was truly responsible for Wang Mai's condition. She might think she was doing something good for him, but was that really beneficial for someone else?
Teacher Zhao was more concerned about her own vanity, believing she was helping Wang Mai in a self-congratulatory way without realizing what kind of help he actually needed. When Wang Mai failed to meet her expectations, she resorted to verbal attacks against him. In reality, her actions were merely a means to satisfy her distorted sense of moral superiority.
If Teacher Zhao had guided Wang Mai during his stuttering instead of criticizing him, perhaps everything would have been different.
But now, Wang Mai remained completely silent, as if he had truly become mute.
I gently said to Wang Mai, "Wang Mai, you don't need to worry. Take your time; we will listen slowly. You need to know that we are here to help you, and you should trust the police."
But Wang Mai remained silent, and at that moment, the class bell rang.
Wang Mai heard the bell but showed no intention of going back to class or doing anything else, continuing to sit there in silence.
"Then just sit here for a while. We'll find your homeroom teacher and substitute teacher; you won't be attending this class," I said.
Gu Chen and I stepped outside, and as soon as I closed the door, Gu Chen scratched his head and said, "Kicking this door won't get us anywhere. It's so frustrating. If I didn't know we were in an office, I'd think I was in prison. This is really torturous."
I felt helpless too and replied, "His condition didn't develop overnight. He could still speak before, but after being mocked by teachers and classmates, he can't even say a word now. Just think about it—how can we get Wang Mai to talk?"
Gu Chen shook his head and said, "I don't understand these things. I'd rather face a few armed thugs."
I shrugged in resignation.
For over an hour, no matter what we did, Wang Mai remained tight-lipped, not saying a single word. I had never seen anyone hold their silence for such a long time.
At that moment, we heard the sound of the door opening.
Before us stood a middle-aged couple who looked to be in their forties. Their skin was dark, and their faces were lined with wrinkles. The calluses on their hands indicated they were people who worked hard for a living. Their clothes were dirty, and they wore rubber shoes caked with mud. Upon seeing us, they appeared quite awkward, unsure whether to step inside or remain standing at the threshold.
From their demeanor, it was clear they were typical farmers.
Both of them wore serious expressions; their hands fidgeted between pockets and by their sides, looking quite uncomfortable.
I looked at the two people, stood up, and moved two chairs next to Wang Mai, gesturing for them to sit down. At that moment, Wang Mai still showed no reaction; his mother sat beside him, gently holding him.
I glanced at Wang Mai's parents and sighed, "The reason I called you here is to discuss your child."
"Has my son gotten into trouble?" the man asked in a thick dialect. "If that's the case, just beat him hard; it’s fine, just beat him hard."
I shook my head and said, "Calm down. Wang Mai has always performed well at school; he hasn't done anything wrong."
"That's nonsense!" the man cursed. But when he saw me frown, he quickly added, "I'm not cursing at you; I'm talking about my son. I've worked hard to support his education, and he fails every time. He’s doing well? You don’t need to comfort me."
Given Wang Mai's state in class and his survival in school, it would be a miracle if he could learn well.
I said, "Perhaps you don't understand the situation Wang Mai faces at school. He often suffers from insults and abuse there. You might not know this, but just look at the wounds on his body."
However, what the man said next was far beyond my expectations.
"I know," he replied.
I frowned, hardly believing my ears. "You know? You know your son was burned with a cigarette butt? You know he is constantly bullied at school? That's not just bullying; that's abuse."
The woman held her child silently while the man continued, "I know, but what can we do? Who told my son not to be capable? Why do they bully him and not others? He must be doing something wrong. Besides, it's better to avoid trouble; my Tall Guy just isn’t capable enough; neither teachers nor students like him."
Hearing the man's words filled me with anger. If even a child's father could say such things, I could understand why Wang Mai had to endure this alone. Perhaps in Wang Mai's heart, he believed he was a fool, an irredeemable person.
Wang Mai still showed no reaction; it seemed that the heart of an eleven-year-old boy had long since gone numb.
The child's mother held her child tightly, tears in her eyes. "We know, but there's nothing we can do."
I replied, "The reason your child is being bullied isn't because of poor grades. On the contrary, it's precisely because he is bullied that his grades have suffered. Don't confuse the cause and effect. And if you know about this, why haven't you approached the school? Why just let it go?"
The woman said, "I feel for my son too, but what can we do?"
I felt a surge of anger and said, "What can you do? Don't you know to talk to the teacher or report it to the school? Don't you know how to call the police? Do you know how to write a report?"
Seeing my anger, the woman lowered her head and fell silent.
The man cautiously spoke up, "About this teacher..."
"I'm not a teacher," I interrupted. "I'm a police officer here to investigate your son's situation."
Upon hearing I was a police officer, the man grew nervous. "Officer, we didn't call the police. Why are you here to investigate our son? We haven't done anything wrong. It's just kids messing around; please don't take it seriously. Other parents might come asking us about it, but we didn't report anything. It's not a big deal if we don't call the police."
The woman chimed in desperately, "That's right, Officer. Let's just pretend this never happened."
Faced with their child's abuse and their rights being violated, these two people seemed unwilling for the police to get involved. I couldn't understand why they were so adamant against it and why they were so afraid.
"What are you afraid of?" I asked helplessly. "Am I going to harm you?"
The woman spoke up again, "We have no money; we don't want to stir up trouble. We just want to live our lives peacefully. Please, just let this go."
"We're here to help you," I said, feeling defeated.
The man spoke up, "We really can't afford this. We're poor and don't have the money to fight a lawsuit. We don't want to cause trouble; what's done is done. It's normal for kids to play around. We just want to live our lives without getting involved with the police."
After hearing these words, I felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness, as if I were punching the air in frustration. We were clearly there to help them, yet in their eyes, dealing with the police was a hassle. Getting into trouble meant spending money. Perhaps poverty truly is an original sin, like an invisible net that traps them in life.
When these poor people face the world, their first instinct isn't to defend their rights or seek fairness and justice; instead, they instinctively retreat, fearing expenses and any situation that might lead to trouble. So even when they know their child is being mistreated or struggling at school, they don't think about helping their child.
This instinctive fear and avoidance, this unwillingness to stir up trouble, forms their primary boundary. Living a simple and repetitive life is their foundation. Everything else must yield to this boundary.
In their eyes, no matter what others do, it seems to be their fault. Even when bullied, they only resent themselves for lacking the means to fight back.
What else can one feel but pity and sadness?
The two of them continued pleading with us not to investigate. In the midst of this, the man suddenly stood up and smashed a stool over Wang Mai's head. "You damn beast! All you do is cause trouble! Watch me beat you to death today! You just know how to stir things up, you animal!"
With one swing, the leg of the stool struck Wang Mai's nose, causing blood to gush out and splatter across the entire desk.
"Stop it!" Gu Chen could no longer hold back. He grabbed the man with one hand and snatched the stool away with the other, throwing it aside with a loud crash.
Looking at the man now in Gu Chen's grip, he resembled a helpless chick.
Comment 0 Comment Count