Hating Her, While Still Having to Address Her as Mother - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Pushing the Plot Forward

Chapter Summary: The machinery of the plot turns.

The day after the incident at Jizhou No. 1 Middle School, the news spread like wildfire through the streets and alleys following the report by Hengkou TV. However, in that era, not every household in Jizhou owned a television. Sometimes, seven families would gather together just to crowd around a single black-and-white set. Thus, while half of Jizhou knew what had happened, the moment the story would truly ferment had not yet arrived.

When Shen Manci arrived at work after dropping Su Zhixi off at school, she found the atmosphere in the office unusually heavy. Everyone was present and unexpectedly synchronized, huddled in discussion about yesterday’s events. The crowd only dispersed when they saw her enter.

“Sister Shen,” Chen Nian was the first to call out, having shared the ordeal with her the previous day.

“Morning. What are you all gathered here for? A game of Fight the Landlord?” Shen Manci kept her tone as casual as possible.

“About yesterday…” Ji Xiaoyun, known as Sister Ji, was the first to bring it up. “We did a bit of investigating.”

Shen Manci looked up at Director Zheng in confusion. The Director sat with his hands clasped at the edge of his desk. “Didn’t Director Zheng say this isn’t our concern anymore? That Hengkou TV is taking full responsibility?”

Director Zheng coughed twice. “As a journalist, curiosity is second nature. It’s only normal.”

Shen Manci let out a meaningful “Oh.”

Following that, the gossip in the reporter’s department broke loose. Ji Xiaoyun began, “The parent who caused the scene yesterday is named Zhao Chaokang. The reason for his outburst seems to be his son.”

Chen Nian raised her hand like an elementary student in class. “Was it because his son was treated unfairly by the school?”

A colleague from the editorial department chimed in, “It has to be. Something must have happened to his son for a father to go to such extremes.”

Shen Manci set her bag down. “So, what exactly happened that would drive a father to do something so radical?”

Ji Xiaoyun shrugged. “I haven’t found that out yet. What I know comes from an old classmate at Hengkou TV. I don’t know the specific insider details.”

Chen Nian, being a “bold” intern, addressed the Director directly: “Director, why is a local Jizhou matter being handled by Hengkou TV? TV ownership here is low—maybe one in ten families. Shouldn’t it be given to the newspaper? We reach every household; news travels faster through us.”

Director Zheng coughed again, his throat seemingly genuinely irritated. “The severity of the situation is one reason. Another is… there are rumors that the Jizhou News Center might soon be placed under the jurisdiction of Hengkou TV. New leadership is expected to be dispatched from there.”

No one seemed surprised; they had likely sensed the shift. But Chen Nian wasn’t finished. She leaned toward Shen Manci. “Sister Shen, back in Qinhai, how would this be handled? Would the TV station or the newspaper take the lead?”

This question reminded everyone of a crucial fact: Shen Manci was once a reporter for Qinhai TV. When she first applied, Director Zheng had been baffled. Why would a reporter with experience in a metropolis like Qinhai come to a backwater like Jizhou to work for a small newspaper?

At the time, she had simply smiled and said Jizhou was her hometown, and that “fallen leaves eventually return to their roots.” Since her first day, she had been a mystery to her colleagues. No one truly believed that the elegant, composed Shen Manci was someone who simply wanted a “return to nature.” She had ambition; it was plain to see. She was a vine destined to climb upward, even in places the sun couldn’t reach. Her presence here was an absurdity that fueled the curiosity of the entire department.

“In Qinhai, both the station and the news center would mobilize,” Shen Manci answered. She then added, “But this isn’t Qinhai. This is Jizhou. Every place has its own rules of operation.” Her subtext was clear: everyone should just stick to their own business.

Director Zheng coughed a few more times and began assigning the day’s tasks. Everyone assumed the Jizhou No. 1 story would end there, closing before the full narrative was even understood. No one realized this was only the beginning.

…

After work, as Shen Manci walked out of the building, several people approached her.

“Hello, are you Miss Shen Manci?” “I am.” “We’re from the Jizhou Police Station. Could you come with us for a moment?”

Shen Manci masked her slight surprise with a smile. “Of course.”

She had worried the police visit would make her late to pick up Su Zhixi, but to her surprise, the kind officers had already brought the girl there. Because Su Zhixi was a student who had just reached adulthood, they were questioned in the same room.

After the officers took their statements, they asked one final question: “What is the relationship between the two of you? Just for the record.”

Su Zhixi remained silent. Shen Manci replied smoothly, “I’m her aunt.”

Su Zhixi was startled by the answer but said nothing, tacitly accepting the label.

As the fluorescent lights flickered off, signaling the end of the session, Shen Manci led Su Zhixi out of the station. Without the mask of “Mama,” Su Zhixi returned to her silence. They usually required a physical “park voucher” to open a conversation. But today, things wouldn’t go according to Su Zhixi’s plans.

As they prepared to get on the bicycle, a classmate called out Su Zhixi’s name. The girl was holding a large iron bowl filled with rice and vegetables—the standard dinnerware for Jizhou families.

“Su Zhixi! What are you doing here? Do you want to come to our house for dinner?” “No thanks, I’m going home to eat with my aunt.” “Your aunt? Oh! Is she the reporter at the News Center?” “Yes, why?”

The classmate grabbed Su Zhixi urgently. “Something huge is happening. Come with me!”

With the typical impulsiveness of youth, the girl dragged Su Zhixi into a small convenience store near the police station. Inside, a group of people huddled around an old black-and-white TV. Shen Manci followed them to the doorway.

Hengkou TV was broadcasting. After the initial report on the school incident, the reporter began interviewing a woman.

“I am the wife of Zhao Chaokang,” the woman on screen began, bowing deeply. “I am sorry for the trouble we have caused everyone.”

Then, she began to weep. “The news is full of reports about my husband, but no one has checked how my son died, or why he died. [1] My husband did something wrong to the public, but my son did nothing wrong! He didn’t deserve… this ending.”

The clip ended, followed by a long, standardized report about the school’s new security measures and appeals for societal concern regarding campus safety. The crowd in the store ignored the rest of the report, beginning to chatter. Su Zhixi’s classmate mentioned that one of their classmates’ family members was a reporter.

Everyone turned to look at Shen Manci, who was leaning against the green, peeling iron door. A string of Alpenliebe lollipops hung behind her. She remained silent, meeting their sudden stares with a calm, wordless gaze.

“Reporter comrade,” someone asked, “do you know any inside info?” “What’s your take on this?”

Shen Manci replied indifferently, “The media has no ‘thoughts.’ We are merely intermediaries who transmit facts.”

She reached back, pulled an original-flavored Alpenliebe lollipop from the display, and softly asked Su Zhixi if she wanted one. Her answer was detached and professional. It made everyone there feel she was cold—including Su Zhixi.

But years later, whenever Su Zhixi remembered the woman leaning against that peeling green door, she realized she hadn’t understood Shen Manci at all.