Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

In the fifth-grade math office, Zhang Zhengping listened to Lin Wanqing's account, his brows furrowing into a deep frown.

"Wanqing, you did the right thing. If you're bullied, you should tell the teacher. Zhao Xiaohu bumped into you, and whether it was intentional or not, he has to take responsibility!"

His voice held a hint of anger, but this time, beneath that anger lay something deeper—a resolute determination. Last time, his gullibility in believing rumors and superficial order nearly led to irreversible consequences. That suicide note, that desperate look in his eyes, remained a thorn in his heart. He could no longer be merely a "judge," but a barrier that could shield him from harm, even if that barrier seemed clumsy.

As they were talking, Zhao Xiaohu walked into the office with a nonchalant expression on his face.

When questioned by Teacher Zhang, Zhao Xiaohu looked completely innocent and said that he had just acted accidentally.

Zhang Zhengping's face darkened, his sharp gaze fixed on Zhao Xiaohu, and he reprimanded him sternly: "Zhao Xiaohu, even if it was an accidental bump, you are still responsible. You should have apologized to Lin Wanqing immediately, and if she wasn't injured, you should have reported it to the teacher promptly. These are the most basic principles of being a decent person. But you not only didn't apologize, didn't report it, but you walked away as if nothing had happened. Can you just cover it up with a simple 'accident'?"

Zhao Xiaohu hadn't expected Zhang Zhengping to be so serious this time, not only focusing on the "result" but also on his "post-event attitude." He instinctively straightened his neck, trying to adopt his usual nonchalant attitude, but under Zhang Zhengping's unusually serious, even pained, gaze, his momentum inexplicably deflated.

He muttered, "I was in such a rush to catch up with them, I didn't pay attention. Besides, she didn't do anything..."

"Nothing much?" Zhang Zhengping abruptly interrupted him, his gaze fixed on Zhao Xiaohu's eyes. "You want to wait until she's bleeding from her head before you consider it 'nothing much'?"

Zhao Xiaohu felt uncomfortable under that gaze and instinctively wanted to turn his face away.

"How did your father raise you?" Zhang Zhengping suddenly asked.

Zhao Xiaohu was taken aback.

"Did he teach you that you can hit someone and not apologize? Did he teach you that you can do something wrong and just walk away like nothing happened?"

Zhao Xiaohu opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Zhang Zhengping didn't press further, his tone softening: "You're a class leader, and your dad hopes you'll amount to something. But success isn't earned by bullying others. You need to write a self-criticism and apologize in front of the whole class for what happened today. That's the rule."

Zhao Xiaohu's face flushed red and then turned pale. He had nothing to say, so he could only hold his breath, glare fiercely at the silent Cang Tianci and the head-down Lin Wanqing beside him, and mumble, "I know!" Then he rushed out of the office without looking back.

The office fell silent again. Zhang Zhengping watched Zhao Xiaohu's retreating figure disappear through the doorway, sighed softly, took off his glasses, and wiped the lenses with the corner of his shirt. He knew Zhao Xiaohu might not have truly listened. But this time, at least he had clearly laid out the principles and bottom lines.

He turned to Lin Wanqing and Cang Tianci and said gently, "You two go back to the classroom first. The teacher will continue to follow up on this matter. Lin Wanqing, you were really brave this time. Tianci, you did the right thing by accompanying Wanqing to report."

Cang Tianci nodded and helped Lin Wanqing slowly walk out of the office.

Zhang Zhengping sat back in his chair, gazing at the darkening sky outside the window, remaining motionless for a long time. Dealing with such problems always felt like walking a tightrope, leaving him physically and mentally exhausted. But compared to the superficial "solutions" of the past, he preferred this more strenuous, perhaps slower-acting approach. Because he was beginning to understand that education was not just about correcting a wrong behavior, but also about trying to awaken a heart that might be straying from its path—although that hope still seemed slim at this moment.

After rushing out of the office, Zhao Xiaohu felt increasingly uneasy. "Apologize? Write a self-criticism? And sincerely apologize in front of the whole class? What a disgrace!" He could almost imagine how humiliating it would be to bow down to this lame woman in front of the entire class, and what those who usually hung out with him would think of him. A surge of shame, resentment, and anger welled up in his chest, burning his eyes red.

He suddenly remembered his father's words: "If someone bullies you, you should retaliate tenfold, a hundredfold. That's what makes a real man!"

"That stuttering country bumpkin dared to tattle on me and embarrass me. This can't be left like this," he muttered to himself.

In the evening, in the Zhao family's lavishly decorated dining room, the light from the crystal chandelier shone on the gleaming long dining table. After listening to his son's resentful account, Zhao Dabiao slowly put down his chopsticks, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said:

"A stuttering boy from the countryside and a lame girl who is unloved by her parents, can make my son, Zhao Dabiao, unable to stay in class? And he has to write a self-criticism and apologize?" He raised his eyelids and looked at his son's face, which was flushed with anger. There was no comfort in his eyes, only scrutiny and a trace of disappointment.

Zhao Xiaohu stiffened his neck: "Teacher Zhang, he..."

"A teacher?" Zhao Dabiao scoffed, interrupting him. "Teachers have their rules. But the rules of this world aren't just the ones in schools." He pointed with his chopsticks at the expensive steamed fish on the table. "If you get a fishbone stuck in your throat, is it the fish's fault, or your own fault for not knowing how to eat properly? When I was your age, I was just hanging around in society. There was this old guy who ran a general store who always thought I was in his way. He'd curse and swear whenever I got close, and he even told my grandpa I stole his things. My grandpa was a quiet type, so he just gave me two yuan and said, 'What good is just putting up with this?' Later, I figured out that he went to deposit money alone at night after closing his store. I got two buddies, and when he passed through that dark alley, we 'accidentally' bumped into him. As we helped him up, we 'casually' picked up his money bag. There wasn't much in it, just a few dozen yuan. The next day, when that old guy saw me, he avoided me from a distance, his face pale."

After Zhao Dabiao finished speaking, he picked up his chopsticks again, took a bite of food, and continued to instruct: "To solve problems, you have to use your brain and use effective methods. What's the use of just complaining to the teacher? That's just kids fighting."

"I understand, Dad." Zhao Xiaohu lowered his head, already having a plan in mind. He not only wanted to make Cang Tianci and Lin Wanqing suffer, but also wanted to use a "clever" way, like his father, to completely resolve this trouble and re-establish his "status" in a way that would leave them speechless with bitterness.

That evening, Zhao Xiaohu slipped away from the family's nanny and went to a secluded public phone booth outside the villa area. He inserted the coin and dialed Hei Pi's number: "Brother Hei Pi, it's me, Xiaohu. Can you do me a favor..."

"Hey, Young Master Tiger, which fool has offended you this time?" Blackie's voice came through the receiver, tinged with obsequiousness.

"Cang Tianci. And that Lin Wanqing. Tomorrow afternoon, in that dead-end alley behind the textile factory's scrap yard. Lin Wanqing will go there alone," Zhao Xiaohu said through gritted teeth, his voice low.

"Alright, that place is the dead end, perfect." Blackie replied.

"Listen," Zhao Xiaohu interrupted him, his voice carrying a deliberately learned, chilling quality incongruous with his age, "Go find Lin Wanqing first at noon..."

"Brilliant! Young Master Tiger's move is brilliant!" Blackie chuckled on the other end. "Don't worry, it'll be done perfectly! Perfect timing, that kid Sun Peng is having dinner with me right now, he's itching to get revenge on that stutterer and Zhou Yanwang. Let him go too, give him a chance to vent!"

"Sun Peng? Is that the second senior brother Cang Tianci you mentioned last time? That's great! I'll be waiting to see the show tomorrow afternoon." He could almost see Cang Tianci lying on the ground covered in sewage, and Lin Wanqing's face contorted with fear. A mixture of vengeful pleasure and the dread of controlling others' lives and deaths crept up his spine.

The call ended. Zhao Xiaohu leaned against the glass of the phone booth, his chest heaving. As night deepened, he stared at the scattered lights in the distance, slowly, word by word, whispering into the void:

"Heavenly Gift, let my young master Tiger teach you what rules are."

The next day at noon, as school let out, Lin Wanqing, leaning on her crutch, walked alone into the narrow alleyway she always took home. Suddenly, three boys blocked her path. The leader glanced at her sideways, his tone unfriendly: "Hey, stop right there. You know your dad owes us money, right?"

Lin Wanqing retreated in terror: "I...I don't know you! I don't know anything about my father..."

"Hehe, don't know? Go back and ask your dad." The blond-haired man finished speaking and stepped forward...

In the afternoon, in Class 5-1 classroom, Cang Tianci's heart sank when he saw Lin Wanqing. Pointing to her face, he asked with concern, "Your face... what happened to your face?"

Lin Wanqing hurriedly covered her face with her hands, trying to cover it up, saying, "N-nothing... I just accidentally... bumped into the door frame at home..."

The more she tried to evade and stammer, the more suspicious Cang Tianci became. Could it be his father again...?

All afternoon, Cang Tianci was restless. The Hidden Dragon Technique stirred slightly within him—was it a warning sign, anger, or worry? He had no time to consider it.

As soon as the school bell rang, he quickly packed his things, his gaze fixed on Lin Wanqing ahead, following her at a distance. He had decided that if he witnessed domestic violence again, he would intervene. He would not only stop it with force but also call the police, using the power of rules to restrain him. His entire focus was on Lin Wanqing and the imagined "violent father," dulling his perception of his surroundings. He was completely unaware that from the shadows around the corner of the alley, several pairs of cold, venomous eyes were fixed on him with a mocking and cruel gaze.

Deep in the alley, abandoned bricks and rotten wood pile up silently, like an open mouth.