Chapter 16: The Price of a Tantrum

Sun Wenyuan smiled triumphantly at his agreement, and they started back together.
Then someone caught her hand from behind.
As she turned, a splash of red wine struck her face.
“Ah!”
Her hands flew up. Only when she opened her eyes did she see who had done it.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I demanded, glaring at her.
Furious, she abandoned all pretense of elegance and lunged at me, grabbing my hair.
A fight? I wasn’t about to lose to her.
One hand protected the hair in her grip while the other reached for hers. She pulled hard, sending pain through my scalp. In desperation, I brought my foot down heavily on hers.
She howled and let go, strands of my torn-out hair still clinging to her hand. Tears streamed down her face as she kicked back at me.
A quick dodge, then a shove with both hands sent her to the floor.
Seeing her get the worst of it, Ma Shaoqi shouted in alarm.
“A fight! There’s a fight!”
The party was so noisy—laughter, music and the clinking of glasses everywhere—that hardly anyone noticed us.
Sun Wenyuan scrambled up, flung her arms around me and forced me to the ground. We rolled back and forth, tangled together.
She kicked me; I kicked her. She pulled my hair; I pulled hers. She pinched my face; I pinched hers.
Both of us were crying from the pain.
After several rounds, a hard twist brought me on top.
Now I had the upper hand.
How dare she hit me?
My fingers pinched her cheeks with all their strength, making her shriek.
“Tang Yijun!”
Ji Feiyang rushed over and pulled me off her. As soon as he had me, Ma Shaoqi hurried to help the defeated Sun Wenyuan up.
With one of my hands caught in Ji Feiyang’s grip, she seized her chance. She lunged forward and slapped me.
“Let go!”
My fury turned on him, but his hand stayed firmly around mine.
A struggle, then a vicious stamp on his foot.
His grip loosened.
In one stride, I was in front of Sun Wenyuan. A ringing slap paid her back.
My eyes fixed on her like a wolf’s. She shuddered, stepped back and began to sob.
Big Brother and Tong Xueyou arrived then, each catching one of my arms. Mom and Dad came too, followed by Sun Wenyuan’s parents.
The cheerful music stopped. Everyone at the party gathered around us.
After crying for a while, Sun Wenyuan’s anger got the better of her. She snatched a wine bottle from the table and hurled it at me.
Big Brother shielded me with his body.
The bottle struck him.
Gasps broke out all around us. Thank goodness it had hit his body. If it had caught his head—
I shoved him aside and rushed at Sun Wenyuan, closing my hands around her throat.
Hurt Big Brother, would she? I’d make her pay.
Her parents screamed. People rushed to pull me away, but it took all their strength to pry my fingers from her neck.
Dad looked dreadful. He kept apologizing to her parents while Mom, veins standing out with anger, dragged me to the car with Big Brother.
Straight home we went.
“When are you going to change that temper? How am I supposed to face anyone after this? You’ve disgraced the whole family!”
Mom was so furious she was close to tears.
The bloody scratches on my face brought shocked, distressed looks from Mrs. Zhuang and Auntie Lan.
“What happened? How did you get like this?”
Until then, Mom had been too angry to notice my injuries. Their concern made her realize just how many there were.
“Wenyuan did all this to you? That’s outrageous. How could she?”
Now her voice was full of distress.
“Does it hurt?”
“It hurts… So much…”
A few tears squeezed out.
Actually, it didn’t hurt much. What were a few scratches?
But the moment I said that, Mom felt it a thousand times more than I did. A little more exaggeration, and I could probably escape Dad’s lecture when he got home.
The thought secretly pleased me.
Sure enough, he came through the door looking furious. One look at me, covered in antiseptic, turned his anger to concern.
Sun Wenyuan had scratched several bloody lines across my fair, delicate face. All that pinching had left it slightly swollen too, making the damage look frightful. Bruises marked my legs where she’d kicked me. Quite a bit of hair must have come out as well.
Good thing I had plenty.
“She certainly didn’t hold back,” Dad said angrily. “And there I was, apologizing to them. They ought to come and see this.”
After the fight, I spent a few days recovering at home.
Then one evening, Dad called me to his study.
A magazine had been keeping me company in bed. Reluctantly, I tossed it aside and got up.
At the study door, a sudden sense of foreboding came over me.
“Come in.”
Dad’s brow was deeply furrowed. He looked troubled and weary.
“Close the door.”
“All right.”
The latch clicked behind me. My nerves tightened.
“Come here. Sit down.”
He pointed to the black swivel chair beside him.
Obediently, I took the seat and offered a broad smile to ease the tension.
He smiled back, his brow relaxing.
“Look at you, Yijun. Such a lovely young woman now.”
A small smile from me.
His lasted only a moment. Then the lines slowly returned to his forehead.
“This is your credit-card statement for the month.”
A quick scan revealed nothing obviously wrong. Rows of numbers—that was all. Numbers had never been my strong point.
My puzzled gaze went back to Dad. What was he trying to tell me?
“Don’t you see a problem?”
This time, I carefully counted the digits. Even afterward, the answer escaped me.
“Is the amount too high?”
How much did I usually spend in a month? No idea.
A string of numbers was just a string of numbers to me. Without anything to compare it to, how could I tell whether it was large or small? Any deeper problem was completely beyond me.
Dad sighed three times.
“When a child hasn’t been taught properly, the fault lies with the father,” he said sadly. “I haven’t brought you up as I should. I’ve failed you.”
“Dad…”
Clinging to his arm, I put on my sweetest voice.
“How can you say that? You’re the best dad in the world.”
“All those clothes and shoes. Are you planning to open a shop?”
His expression was sorrowful, though the question sounded like a joke.
“You’re so funny, Dad.”
He stroked my head.
“Yijun, you’re grown up now, and I’m getting old. When you were little, I couldn’t bear to hit you or scold you. Then, before I knew it, you were grown. It may be too late to teach you better habits now.
“I don’t expect you to take over the business. That life is too hard. When I was a boy, we were poor. Every coin had to be earned through hard work. That money cost sweat and effort.
“Spending is easy. Earning is hard. I don’t want you developing bad habits. Having enough to eat and wear should be enough. Too much luxury can make you lose all perspective. Do you understand?”
Somewhat hazily, I nodded.
The gist seemed to be: don’t throw money around.
“Don’t just nod. Put it into practice. Keep it in mind.”
“I know.”
Another nod.
“Good. When are you planning to start work?”
“Hmm…”
Seeing how low he looked, I chose an answer that would please him.
“Tomorrow.”
It worked.
“Good.”
He nodded, visibly relieved.
“Your mother and I have discussed it. Once you start working, we won’t give you any more spending money. You’ll spend what you earn.”
“All right.”
The answer came readily. That didn’t strike me as a serious problem.
His spirits seemed to lift a little. After another glance at the statement, he put it back on the desk.
“We’ll leave this here. I won’t take the matter any further.”
Then came a reminder.
“Remember what I’ve told you. And remember what you’ve just promised.”
“I will. I will.”
A successful end to the conversation.
At last, the worry lifted. So it hadn’t been anything serious after all.
My easy answer made Dad ask once more.
“Will you really remember?”
“Yes!”
A touch of impatience slipped into my voice.
“Off you go, then.”
“All right.”
As I got up, he showed no sign of leaving.
“Aren’t you going to bed, Dad?”
“I have a few more documents to read.”
“Don’t stay up too late.”
He nodded, and I opened the door and left, entirely at ease.