“Sis, really? Is that how you talk about your sister-in-law?” Sun Jingcheng was rather unhappy.
“Didn’t I also praise her? Said she’s smart and sensible,” Sun Jingfei cut her steak.
“That’s not genuine praise—that’s damning with faint praise,” Sun Jingcheng replied.
“Yi Yang Qianxi?”
…
Sun Jingcheng ate his steak, too lazy to respond to her words.
Sun Jingfei teased him. “Good thing—you know how to feel sorry for your wife now!”
“Sometimes you’re just like Mom.”
“I have Mom’s blood flowing through me—how could I not be…” As Sun Jingfei spoke, the two people diagonally across from them left hunched over.
“He saw us,” Sun Jingcheng said.
“Let him see,” Sun Jingfei said unconcernedly. “Where are you staying tonight?”
“The marital home.”
“Then send me the new district password. I’ll stay there for a couple days.”
“Aren’t we following?”
“Not following anymore,” Sun Jingfei urged him. “Eat in peace.”
Sun Jingcheng sent her the password, then sent one to Zhou Yu as well. Zhou Yu replied: “You sent it to the wrong person.”
Sun Jingcheng replied: “New district password.”
The siblings ate quietly. But Sun Jingcheng couldn’t hold back and said: “We’re planning to divorce.”
Sun Jingfei nodded calmly, indicating she understood.
“That’s your only reaction?” Sun Jingcheng asked.
“What reaction do you want from me?” Sun Jingfei looked at him. “Persuade you? Only immature little brats need persuading.”
Sun Jingcheng ate his steak and changed the subject. “What are you planning to do? Divorce?”
Sun Jingfei didn’t answer but asked instead: “Guess how I found out?”
Sun Jingcheng put down his knife and fork.
“I received some anonymous photos and a hotel room number,” Sun Jingfei said. “I went that day, but I didn’t go upstairs. I just sat in the car watching them come out.”
“That feeling…” Sun Jingfei thought for a moment. “It’s like using a knife made of bamboo to slowly scrape the flesh off your body.” Then she said calmly: “The more painful and desperate I felt, the more I wanted to keep watching. Later, as I watched, it stopped hurting—it was like watching someone else’s gossip.”
“I followed for twenty-seven days. On the fifth day I found out he had two people at the same time. One is his mistress from work—that woman is married and well-off. The other is a young woman, looks about twenty-five or twenty-six? She sells fine men’s clothing at the mall.” Sun Jingfei’s tone was very light—as she said, it really was like talking about a neighbor’s affairs.
“He also has a daughter, three years old, born to him by the young woman who sells men’s clothing at the mall.”
The phone on the side rang. She glanced at it and answered, her fingers lightly tapping the table as she chatted briefly, then looked at Sun Jingcheng. “Your brother-in-law, asking where I am. I said I’m eating steak with you.” Then she continued chatting with the same calm expression.
When Zhou Yu received Sun Jingcheng’s WeChat message, she was having a dinner gathering with several young teachers. First, winter break had started; second, the school had issued performance bonuses on time. These teachers were relatively the youngest, all around thirty, and basically got along well. Those veteran teachers with longer teaching experience rarely gathered at their own expense like this unless the school organized it.
Teacher Hu threw her chopsticks on the dining table and muttered with a straight face: “Just can’t stand this batch of young teachers—they’ve corrupted all the students!” As soon as she finished, the table erupted in laughter.
“Our homeroom teacher is like that. She won’t say it to your face, just complains behind your back.”
“They just rely on their seniority, thinking they’re especially authoritative and upright. If you ask me, they’re just rigid and boring. Look at their class ranking in the grade—don’t they have any self-awareness?”
Zhou Yu listened to them but didn’t chime in.
Everyone at the table was a teacher and knew when to stop—if they continued gossiping, the tone would change. Then the topic shifted to performance bonuses, and they all asked each other. The straightforward ones asked casually, while those with more cunning were evasive.
The straightforward one said boldly: “Teacher Zhou is definitely still the highest among us.”
Zhou Yu smiled. “Not really.”
“Everyone teaches different classes, so different performance is normal,” Teacher Hu smoothed things over, then changed the subject to trending social news.
How to describe Zhou Yu’s interpersonal relationships? Those who didn’t like her found her scheming, felt like there was a barrier when talking to her—couldn’t connect heart to heart. Those who did like her appreciated that sense of self-awareness and distance about her. She was tight-lipped—no matter what she heard, she’d never spread it.
The reason no colleague disliked her was largely because she maintained the same distance with everyone, never gossiped about anyone behind their backs, and didn’t engage in clique politics. Moreover, the way she spoke and handled matters was impeccable—both new and veteran teachers had nothing to criticize about her. But precisely because of this, some colleagues said she was scheming, falsely aloof.
When this was said, Zhou Yu happened to overhear it. At the time, the office door was ajar during lunch break. After hearing it, she quietly left, and later her attitude toward colleagues remained as usual. This scene happened to be witnessed by Teacher Hu returning from the restroom. From then on, she knew Zhou Yu was someone you could confide in. Although she was somewhat distant with people, that was due to her personality—you couldn’t require everyone to have the same personality.
When Zhou Yu left at that time, there was no other reason than to avoid embarrassing everyone by going in—after all, they’d still have to see each other every day. Aside from this reason, unless someone was particularly important in her heart, she wouldn’t expend energy getting angry at outsiders.
In other words: people who weren’t important couldn’t hurt her.