Chapter 2

We reached a stop.

A young woman boarded.

She wore glasses and looked very innocent.

Probably a university student.

She quietly took my old seat.

Then she set her backpack in front of her and took out a book.

She seemed to be studying for an exam.

The brat wasn't going to leave her alone.

As soon as the bus moved, he began shaking her seat.

She ignored it and kept reading.

Perhaps she thought the person behind her had done it accidentally.

The kid had other ideas.

Seeing that she looked easy to bully, he shook harder.

Now she noticed.

She turned to him.

“Could you stop shaking the seat, please?”

Her voice was very gentle.

He didn't care. He looked at her with that sulky little face.

“Okay.”

A thoroughly casual answer.

Thinking he understood, she returned to her book.

Then—

He started kicking the seat.

Just as he had with me.

She turned again, still speaking gently.

“Will you listen to me? Please stop kicking.”

“Okay.”

She pressed her lips together.

What else could she do? She kept reading.

Then—

He kicked harder.

Thump. Thump.

At last, she couldn't stand it. She turned and called out:

“Excuse me, whose child is this?”

No answer.

His parents remained absorbed in their own business.

Her face reddened.

She looked painfully awkward, and a little hurt.

The brat giggled and pulled a face.

She bit her lip and reluctantly turned away.

Giving in only encouraged him.

The moment she turned—

He grabbed her hair.

She cried out in pain and spun back toward the little pest, her mouth slightly open.

Tears welled in her eyes. She pointed at him.

“You… you…”

His mother noticed.

She immediately shouted at the girl.

“What are you doing? Trying to bully my darling?”

The aggression frightened her into retreat.

“No, I was only…”

His father joined in.

“Only what?”

“I… I…”

She couldn't get the words out. Her face crumpled.

The brat laughed.

“Come on, play with me!”

Pure pretense.

His mother seized on it.

“My darling only wants you to play with him, and you're being so nasty. Is that how you treat children?”

The young man in glasses couldn't watch anymore.

“Like parents, like child!”

The father sprang up and pointed at him.

“What did you say? Say that again!”

The young man didn't back down. He raised his voice.

“I said, like parents, like child!

“Don't understand?

“Need me to translate?”

The father's eyes went red with anger.

He went over and grabbed the young man's collar.

“Say it again! I'll fucking kill you!”

The girlfriend jumped up and caught his hand.

“Let go! Are you trying to start something?”

The young man wasn't frightened either.

“Go on, hit me! There's a police station just ahead! Let's see you do it!”

Passengers hurried over to intervene.

“That's enough. There's no need to make such a fuss.”

“Yes, let it go.”

Under their persuasion, the father reluctantly released him.

“You're a brave little bastard.”

Then he went back to his seat, fuming.

Things finally settled.

A rare quiet returned to the bus.

The student beside me wiped her tears.

She took a bottle of soy milk and two steamed buns from her backpack.

She had just opened the bottle when—

A violent jolt struck.

Caught off guard, she pitched forward.

Her head hit the rail.

The buns fell to the floor.

Every drop of soy milk landed on me.

Because I was going to surrender, I had spent everything I had on the most respectable set of clothes I could afford.

Before dying, I thought, I should splurge once.

Be an ordinary man.

Looking at my soaked shirt, I closed my eyes. My blood pressure shot up.

My hands began to shake.

The student could tell I was angry. She didn't even pick up her buns.

She hurriedly took out a handkerchief and crouched beside me.

“I'm sorry…”

Crying, she tried to wipe my shirt.

Then she offered me her last hundred yuan.

I didn't take it.

I didn't blame her either.

I went straight to the parents.

The father lowered his newspaper.

“What do you want?”

I glared at them, my face dark.

My right hand kept touching the sharp knife in my pocket.

I wanted to stab them both dead.

But reason quickly won.

I took my hand away and forced myself to speak calmly.

“Your kid spilled her soy milk and knocked her buns onto the floor. Shouldn't you pay for them?”

“What's that got to do with my son?”

The mother stared with vacant eyes and curled her lip.

“She couldn't hold her things properly. How can you blame him?”

“Would it have happened if he hadn't kicked her seat?”

“One little kick, and she can't take it? How will she cope with all the pressure of studying? She'll probably jump off a building sooner or later.”

She even gave me a dismissive glance.

With my temper, how was I supposed to swallow that?

I grabbed her by the neck and raised my right hand, ready to slap her.

“He's hitting me! Someone's hitting me!”

She immediately put on a performance.

Her husband played along.

“Everyone, look! He's going to hit a woman!”

He could see I wasn't easy to push around, so suddenly he was the victim.

The commotion made everyone turn.

The attendant came over and pulled at my hand.

“Calm down, sir! Let's talk!”

The mother kept shrieking.

“He's going to hit a woman!”

The bus was noisier than a market.

Then the student pushed through.

She held my hand and cried.

“Please stop. It's all my fault…”

Looking at her distressed face, I swallowed my anger and let go.

“Pair of fucking idiots!”

I shouted it as I went back to my seat.

The father didn't like that.

He took two red banknotes from his pocket, threw them on the floor, and yelled:

“You want compensation? Fine! I'll pay!”

Then he pointed at the student.

“There! I'm paying you!”

As if she were a beggar.

It was a deliberate humiliation.

I tried to stop her accepting it, but she brushed my hand aside.

She bent and picked up the money.

She didn't want it to escalate.

The father gave me a triumphant look.

The brat who had caused it all stood there smirking.

Perhaps I had too many sins on my soul.

I found myself wanting to help her.

Before dying, I might as well do one good thing.

I got up and approached her.

As politely as I could, I offered to swap seats.

She kept shaking her head.

Interesting girl.

She would rather put up with the trouble herself than drag someone else into it.

I immediately raised my voice.

“I want this seat. Get over there!”

She flinched.

At the sight of my fierce expression, she rose awkwardly.

Then she sat where I'd been.

I glared hard at the brat.

He seemed frightened and shrank back.

Seeing the little pest lose his swagger felt good.

Really fucking good.

I was just about to enjoy a nap when the bus braked sharply.

Luckily, I reacted in time.

I grabbed the rail in front and kept my head from hitting it.

Otherwise, I'd have had a fine lump.

The brat wasn't so lucky.

Bang.

His head struck the back of my seat.

Loudly.

I swear it was the sweetest sound I'd heard all day.

“Waaah!”

He burst into tears.

His parents leaped up, furious.

His mother crouched beside him and soothed him.

His father marched to the front and shouted at the driver.

“What kind of driving is that?

“My son's hit his head!

“What if he's hurt?

“Could you take responsibility if something happened?”

The driver was middle-aged.

The barrage left him unable to get a word in.

Only when the father tired of shouting could he begin apologizing.

Seeing how easily he could bully the driver, the father refused to let it go. Now he demanded compensation.

The attendant tried to reason with him.

He shoved her away.

“Stop fucking bothering me, you ugly bitch!”

She fell back onto a seat, at a complete loss.