Chapter 14
The man in the suit, Ke Zhengzhi, was an ordinary employee at a foreign enterprise with an average salary. After watching from below for a while, he walked straight onto the pedestrian overpass, intending to have lunch on the other side.
His leather shoes were polished to a high shine, and his face wore an expression of disdain as he stepped onto the overpass. Ke Zhengzhi had always looked down upon the street vendors setting up stalls there, considering them lacking proper employment. Whenever he passed by these stalls, his neatly pressed suit would inevitably get smudged with dust.
“You little ingrate!” Ke Zhengzhi suddenly spotted his son surrounded by several other children, munching on food and holding more in his hands.
“I haven’t even eaten yet!” Ke Zhengzhi erupted in fury. He lunged forward, snatched the bread from his son’s grip, and clenched it tightly in his own fist. “You have money to buy bread, yet you still come begging from me at noon! Making me lose face in front of my manager—you truly are a traitor who bites the hand that feeds you!”
The child’s name was Ke Xiaoyu. Five days earlier, his teacher had notified all students to submit twenty yuan for miscellaneous fees, posting the announcement in the parents’ group chat. However, Ke Zhengzhi had long since muted that group.
Ke Xiaoyu hadn’t dared to ask his father for the money. After dragging it out for five days, he finally couldn’t postpone it any longer this afternoon. While his classmates headed to the cafeteria for lunch after school, he went without eating, walking all the way from school to his father’s company. With a look of sheer terror, he approached him to demand the money.
The father and son were talking in the stairwell, a place usually empty, but for some reason, the manager happened to pass by. Hearing Ke Zhengzhi shouting at his child over twenty yuan, the manager’s expression immediately turned cold.
Ke Zhengzhi saw the manager off with an obsequious smile, but the moment the man was gone, his lips twisted into a sneer. He swung his hand and slapped Ke Xiaoyu hard across the face, stunning the boy, who immediately ran out.
Apart from the one meal he had at school around noon, Ke Xiaoyu often went without food; hunger had left him sallow and emaciated.
Seeing his father chasing after him, Ke Xiaoyu’s face turned as pale as paper. His mouth opened and closed, yet he was speechless, unable to utter a single word of explanation.
Li Jianguo, the middle-aged man who had bought bread for Ke Xiaoyu, hurriedly explained on the child’s behalf, “I bought this; don’t misunderstand. The child was nearly fainting from hunger on the road. How could you call yourself a father?”
Seeing Ke Xiaoyu cast a timid glance toward Li Jianguo, Ke Zhengzhi flew into a rage. Grabbing the boy like a drowning man clutching at straw, he yanked him over. “Look clearly at who your real father is! You ungrateful wretch, I am your father! While I bow and scrape to apologize to my bosses at the company, you’re here eating and drinking lavishly. Who do you think I work so hard for?”
As he spoke the last sentence, Ke Zhengzhi gripped his son’s hand ever more tightly. Tears welled up instantly in Ke Xiaoyu’s eyes as he stammered, “D-Dad did it… for Xiaoyu.”
Hearing these words, Ke Zhengzhi finally felt a third of his tension ease. He turned aggressively toward Li Jianguo, scanning the man’s shabby attire from head to toe with contemptuous eyes. When his gaze landed on the missing-person notice pinned to Li’s chest, the corner of his mouth suddenly curled upward.
“So it turns out you’ve committed so many sins that you’ve lost your own son! Why don’t you go find the child who probably died in some filthy ditch instead of coveting mine? Have you no shame?”
Enraged by these words, Li Jianguo abruptly grabbed Ke Zhengzhi by the collar, his eyes blazing with fury. “Say that again?”
“Fine, listen to me…”
Ke Xiaoyu took several deep breaths before finally sobbing out, “Dad, Uncle is a good person.”
Ke Zhengzhi snapped back, “You ungrateful little wolf! Who’s your father? Who are you supposed to honor and obey in the future? Who works to pay your tuition fees? I’ve raised you for ten years, and all he gave you was a loaf of bread. Are you really such an ungrateful wretch?”
Such exchanges seemed to have occurred countless times; Ke Xiaoyu’s responses were always identical, like a machine pushed to its breaking point.
“Ke Zhengzhi is my father; I will be filial to him.”
Li Jianguo was filled with anger and heartbreak, yet utterly helpless. Watching Ke Xiaoyu being shoved back and forth by Ke Zhengzhi, he noticed several welts from belt lashes on the child’s exposed wrists, his own eyes reddening with fury.
But he was merely a farmer from the countryside, completely unsure how to confront an urban wage earner. Li Jianguo suddenly thought of his own little Bao; could he too be suffering inhuman torment, just like this child?
Ke Zhengzhi, having found a sense of superiority over Li Jianguo, confiscated Ke Xiaoyu’s bread, gave him a push, and ordered him off to school.
Ke Xiaoyu whispered softly, “Dad, the teacher said we need to hand in twenty yuan.”
After speaking, he covered his face, afraid Ke Zhengzhi would slap him again.
“What money? Isn’t it enough that I’m paying your tuition?” The mere mention of it reignited the shame Ke Zhengzhi had felt earlier in the stairwell when the manager had stumbled upon them.
“By the way, why did you run just now? One slap and you bolt—what can I possibly expect from you in the future?” Ke Zhengzhi raised his hand, and Ke Xiaoyu cowered, squatting on the ground in fear.
“Ke Zhengzhi—”
Suddenly, a woman’s voice, broken and crackling with static, erupted.
Wang Ping loosened his grip on the microphone, making the voice even clearer.
“Ke Zhengzhi—! Is this how you treat Xiao Yu? I’m not done with you! Sob… Xiao Yu’s mother is so sorry, Mom is coming home right now…”
Ke Xiaoyu recognized the woman’s voice, his eyes lighting up: “Mom!”
Ke Zhengzhi was suddenly thrown into panic. He frantically looked around, his eyes nearly bursting from their sockets as he stared at the phone in Wang Ping’s hand. Somehow, without anyone noticing, the man had already answered a video call from his wife.
“Yujuan, let me explain—”
“Ke Zhengzhi, I’m heading to the station right now to buy a ticket and come back. I want a divorce!”
Wang Ping interjected, “Buy a plane ticket instead; I’ll reimburse you.”
He had just been held down by Xie Yubo when the young master handed him a crumpled piece of paper, instructing him to contact the person listed on it.
This paper was taken by Xie Yubo from Xiao Yu’s pocket; it bore the name and phone number of his mother, Sun Yujuan.
Poor child, terrified every day by Ke Zhengzhi, clutching his mother’s phone number yet never daring to make the call.
Sun Yujuan had lived frugally her entire life and never once considered taking a flight; suddenly reminded, she choked up, saying, “Yes, yes, I should buy a plane ticket…”
In order to provide a better life for her son, she joined a construction project in northwest China a year ago, venturing deep into the desert. The project required female workers and offered high pay, but the days were extremely busy and the signal poor; she hadn’t returned home for a whole year.
During their weekly phone calls, Ke Xiaoyu was always watched by his father and never dared to speak ill of him.
Sun Yujuan only discovered today that all of Ke Zhengzhi’s words had been mere lies to placate her.
He claimed he had enrolled their child in an English class, saying the boy was too busy to take phone calls.
He insisted business at the company was poor and his salary had been cut; Sun Yujuan immediately requested an advance on her wages, urging him not to mistreat their child.
And what was the result? Her own son was beaten so severely just for asking for twenty yuan! Ke Zhengzhi treated Xiao Yu worse than a random stranger on the overpass would have!
Sun Yujuan softened her voice and said to Ke Xiaoyu, “Mom will be home tonight. Go to class now, be a good boy.”
With red-rimmed eyes, she turned to Wang Ping and pleaded, “Kind sir, I’ll transfer twenty yuan to you right away. Could you please give Xiaoyu twenty yuan?”
Wang Ping replied, “Sure.”
“Why should a stranger pay? I’ll do it, I’ll do it…” Ke Zhengzhi finally reached for his wallet, but Wang Ping was faster; he directly handed the child a hundred yuan and told him to go to class.
Sun Yujuan: “I don’t want your money.”
Ke Xiaoyu seemed to understand his mother’s intention. He obediently took the money from Uncle Wang, saying, “Goodbye, Mom. Thank you, Brother. Thank you, Uncle.”
He walked briskly down the overpass. So his mother would stand by his side after all, and even his father could feel fear. If only he had called his mother sooner.
From now on, he would be brave.
After the child left, Sun Yujuan said coldly, “Ke Zhengzhi, Xiaoyu is your biological son.”
Sun Yujuan was beautiful and virtuous; she and Ke Zhengzhi had fallen in love freely. He had never once considered divorce, yet now he felt like a paper tiger torn open, cold sweat pouring down his face.
“I know, I know… I’ve never doubted that.”
Sun Yujuan replied, “Then why did you—never mind, I don’t want to know anymore.”
Ke Zhengzhi: “I won’t divorce! Yujuan, I know I was wrong. When you come back, remember we agreed to have another child? I’ll treat him very well.”
“Have you fathered an illegitimate child outside our marriage?” Sun Yujuan suspected. Otherwise, why would he repeatedly play the victim and save up his entire salary?
“No!”
“Then you don’t deserve to be a father. From now on, Xiaoyu won’t have you as his dad anymore.”
“I…”
Xie Yubo spoke for him, “Because your fate lacks virtue, and your descendants are unfilial. Is that correct, Mr. Ke?”
“Yes!” Ke Zhengzhi suddenly regained some confidence, declaring solemnly, “Yujuan, it’s not that I treat Xiaoyu poorly; it’s because Xiaoyu was reincarnated as an ungrateful wolf cub. The master said that in the future, this little ungrateful wolf will never support us, will kick us out of the house, refuse to pay for our medical expenses when we’re ill, and even force us to beg on the streets. Any money spent on him is wasted; I need to save it for my own old age.”
Sun Yujuan couldn’t help but laugh, “All this over such a fabricated accusation?”
“How can you call it baseless?” Ke Zhengzhi, seeing the fortune-telling advertisement on Xie Yubo’s sign, immediately grabbed onto it like a lifeline. “Cast a hexagram for me too! If your skills are truly proficient, you’ll conclude that Xiao Yu is an ungrateful wretch.”
Xie Yubo tilted his head. “Indeed, Xiao Yu will neither support you in your old age nor call you ‘Father’ again.”
“See! I told you!” Ke Zhengzhi exclaimed, waving his arms and legs in agitation.
Sun Yujuan retorted, “You’re the idiot! How could I ever marry someone like you? You reap what you sow. After treating Xiao Yu this way, did you expect him to obey your every whim? I’m divorcing you, and from now on, I won’t let Xiao Yu call you ‘Father’ even once.”
Ke Zhengzhi suddenly froze, as if someone had grabbed his throat, standing rigid like a wooden puppet.
Xie Yubo shook his head. A child’s life is filled with countless variables and is profoundly influenced by their parents; casting such horoscopes for them is truly unethical.
Often, the results of these divinations alter the parents’ attitude, which in turn pressures the child down a path of unfilial behavior. At that point, the diviner is hailed as having a divine touch, never making a mistake.
Mr. Ke,” Xie Yubo asked, “do you know who cast your horoscope?
Ke Zhengzhi still stubbornly insisted, “Master Liu, he’s incredibly accurate. He told my fortune on the street, saying I’d face calamity that day and warned me not to walk near windows. Sure enough, a flowerpot fell from the third floor right then.”
“Did you know the owner of that flowerpot was Master Liu himself?”
Ke Zhengzhi widened his eyes in shock. “…Impossible! Why would he…?” At the time, he had been rushing back to find that master to have his fortune told again, with no thought spared for confronting the flowerpot’s owner.
“You and Sun Yujuan were classmates in university. Upon graduation, someone sent her gifts daily to confess their love. Having secretly loved Sun Yujuan for years but lacking the courage to confess yet unwilling to give up, you impersonated that person and made the confession first.”
Sun Yujuan was shocked: “Those gifts were so thoughtful; no wonder you stopped giving them after we started dating.”
Ke Zhengzhi’s face turned pale, then green. He suddenly remembered that the person whose gift he had intercepted seemed to have the surname Liu.
Years later, when Classmate Liu unexpectedly heard about this from former classmates, he had no proof but felt deeply resentful. By then, he was already married and no longer harbored feelings for Sun Yujuan, so he devised a malicious scheme.
As expected, Ke Zhengzhi took the bait. His psyche had always been dark; this was evident from how he once secretly loved Sun Yujuan yet lacked the courage to confess, instead choosing to impersonate someone else.
This maneuver skirts the edge of legality; you could call it fraud, yet he never actually took any money from Ke Zhengzhi.
At the time, Student Liu fabricated a whole string of misfortunes—marital discord and unfilial descendants. Ke Zhengzhi, having finally married the goddess he had long coveted, didn’t dare utter a word of protest. Occasionally, guilt would gnaw at him, after all, his wife was obtained through deception. As this guilt accumulated, it subconsciously convinced him that retribution was inevitable; thus, when someone persuaded him, he immediately interpreted his son’s alleged unfilial behavior as that very retribution.
Sun Yujuan loved her child deeply. Ke Zhengzhi found it difficult to discuss fortune-telling with her, and simultaneously, he had no intention of spending another penny on Ke Xiaoyu. Extremely selfish by nature and harboring a penchant for domestic violence, his every thought was fixated on having another child.
“Yujuan, I was wrong.” Ke Zhengzhi suddenly dropped to his knees with a thud, tears streaming down like rain. “Don’t divorce me. I was wrong. I will make it up to you and Xiaoyu in the future. Don’t leave me. I love Xiaoyu; I cannot live without you both…”
Sun Yujuan hung up the phone without hesitation.
Ke Zhengzhi, stripped of all white-collar composure, was overwhelmed by regret and despair; he even contemplated throwing himself in front of a car to end his life. Yet with Sun Yujuan having already disconnected the call, he had no one left to threaten and lacked the courage to die.
In a frenzy, he kicked and punched wildly on the overpass, even attempting to vent his rage on Xie Yubo.
However, as an office worker, he was physically weaker than Uncle Wang and stood no chance in a fight. Uncle Wang and Li Jianguo together escorted him down from the overpass to avoid blocking traffic.
Xie Yubo took off his straw hat; this farce had dragged on for too long, and class was about to start. As time passed, Ke Zhengzhi would grow increasingly regretful, for Ke Xiaoyu was his only child in this life. He would die alone, spending his remaining days in anguish.
Suddenly, a person knelt before him. Li Jianguo frantically emptied all the money from his pockets and bag—hundred-yuan notes, one- and five-yuan bills, even loose coins. This was his entire fortune.
“Little Bodhisattva, please, I beg you, tell me where my Xiaobao is? Name any price; I’ll work carrying bricks at a construction site—I can earn two hundred a day—” Li Jianguo choked out. In the five years since leaving his village, this was the first glimmer of hope he had seen.
Wang Ping’s gaze was equally earnest. Even with no money left for himself, Li Jianguo had still bought food for Ke Xiaoyu; he was truly a good man.
Xie Yubo pulled out a ten-yuan note, folded it neatly, and tucked it into his pocket before taking out a talisman instead.
This is my first day in business; I’ll charge you less.
With great solemnity, he pressed the talisman onto Li Xiaobao’s photograph, paused thoughtfully, and said, “Board the first bus from here and ride it to the final stop. There, you will see a child wearing old red clothes—that is him.”
“Xiaobao is still in Longgan City?” Li Jianguo exclaimed in shock. He had originally planned to leave Longgan City today and head to the next city; he dared not imagine the consequences of having missed this opportunity.
“Yes, he is five years old this year and may not remember you, but he is also waiting for you to take him home. Everything will be fine.”
Wang Ping took out his wallet and stuffed a wad of cash into Li Jianguo’s trouser pocket. “Take this to buy some good food for the child. If they refuse to return him, just call me.”
Without further ado, Li Jianguo kowtowed to Xie Yubo and Wang Ping. “Once we settle back in our hometown, I will come to repay the money.”
Having said that, he hurriedly descended from the bridge to wait for the first bus.
Xie Yubo held the ten-yuan bill, his eyes curving into a smile. “Uncle Wang, I’ve made my first sale.”
“Congratulations, Young Master,” Wang Ping said sincerely.
Xie Yubo said happily, “Let’s come to this place again tomorrow.”
Wang Ping was cheerfully packing up his stall when his expression suddenly changed. “Young Master, Young Master, I see President Shang approaching.”
As everyone knows, President Shang and Big Brother Xie are so close they might as well share the same pants; once he finds out, it won’t be long before Xie Chenbo does too.
“What? Where?” Xie Yubo couldn’t spot him.
“It seems his car broke down. He’s crossing the overpass to the other side to wait for another driver to bring a vehicle.”
Uncle Wang abandoned his sunglasses stall, grabbed Xie Yubo’s fortune-telling signboard, and fled with him in panic, as if they had encountered the Urban Management Bureau.
Pulling Xie Yubo back to the car, Uncle Wang said, “Today served as a rehearsal, Young Master. The footbridge is ultimately not a long-term solution; the Urban Management officers occasionally come to chase people away.”
After asking clearly what the Urban Management Bureau was, Xie Yubo nodded. Although these officers were not as terrifying as President Shang, being driven away by them would be a great loss of face for the Grand Imperial Astrologer.
It was time to explore new markets.
Xie Yubo returned to the classroom and saw a group of naive, sweet-natured underlings studying diligently, which stirred a hint of temptation in him.
Should he really take advantage of people he knows?
If this Imperial Astrologer sold his talismans at a lower price and focused on volume, could he still make a fortune?
The afternoon was dedicated to essay writing. As the leader, Xie Yubo felt some pressure, but Liu FLY enthusiastically invited him and the underlings to write essays together, taking the lead by example.
“Oh,” Xie Yubo replied indifferently.
Liu Fei thoughtfully took out Xie Yubo’s composition notebook, opened it to the first page, uncapped the pen, and handed it to him.
Liu Fei believed he was helping his boss integrate into the group; otherwise, whenever they worked on math problems, the boss could only pretend to read a book to encourage and accompany them, though he must have felt deeply saddened inside.
Since a ballpoint pen differs from a brush pen and cannot produce flowing, elegant strokes, Xie Yubo held back his full skill, tempering somewhat his usual wild cursive style.
This Imperial Astrologer also needs to practice using modern pens; they are easier to carry than brush pens.
The inspecting principal, seeing this class diligently writing essays, felt somewhat gratified. Mistaking the room number for a moment, he stepped inside to make his rounds.
After all, a class this well-behaved could never be Class Two.
Xie Yubo was in the middle of writing his essay when someone suddenly approached him.
“Little student, your handwriting is a bit ugly. You’ll lose fifty points right off the bat on the college entrance exam essay; you need to practice.”
Xie Yubo lifted his head: “…”
Ugly?
Liu Fei said in a steady voice, “Principal, how could you say that about our boss? Sure, his handwriting is ugly, but he put his heart into it.”
The principal suddenly noticed Xie Yubo lifting his head and recognized him. He quickly corrected himself, “How well the handwriting looks isn’t important; what matters most is the effort behind it.”
The Grand Imperial Astrologer picked up the composition notebook, his eyes clouded with confusion. Was it really that ugly?
But the tyrant claimed that none of the three tutors at the Imperial Academy possessed adequate calligraphy skills, so he personally instructed Xie until his graduation, praising him for developing a unique style.
Damn it, the tyrant has deceived this Imperial Astrologer again.