Someone once said the true nature of life is: give a slap, then give a sweet date.
For me, maybe it was the reverse: give a sweet date, then give a slap.
The night before, as I lay in bed, I’d been thinking about how I’d apologize to Teacher Li when I saw her, and how I should carry myself to protect against the school bullying when I faced them again.
But the next day at school, I learned that Teacher Li had already resigned.
I heard she was over two months pregnant, but the pregnancy was unstable, so her husband had forced her to go home to rest and carry the baby to term.
The new homeroom teacher was a middle-aged woman, gentle but with no real authority.
So after school, I found myself cornered in the classroom.
They hurled a broom at me, full of hostility.
The filthy end of it grazed across my foot, leaving a black smear on my little white shoe.
“If you can’t finish sweeping, don’t bother going home—might as well come play with us in the bathroom instead.”
The fists at my sides clenched, then loosened.
This group of girls hovered somewhere between maturity and childishness, always chasing a sense of identity and achievement through standing out, while at the same time bullying the weak and fearing the strong.
Privately, they liked to argue about which boy they’d claim as their “big brother,” and not long ago had bragged that the punk from the alley was the toughest, hardest one to win over—they’d even gone to his shop asking for a tattoo and been turned away.
I took a tissue and slowly wiped the dirt off the tip of my shoe.
These were the new shoes Auntie had just bought me.
“Hey! Are you even listening to me?”
The tall girl leading the group looked impatient.
I raised my eyes, my voice steady.
“I heard you. I’m not sweeping.”
She raised her hand as if to slap me.
I didn’t dodge.
“Go ahead. Slap me, hard.
“Zhou Haiyan is my older brother. As long as you don’t beat me to death today, tomorrow you can wait to be beaten to death by him instead.”
She froze at that, instinctively exchanging glances with the others, some hesitation creeping in.
I’d rehearsed this scene in my head countless times.
“What, you don’t believe me?
“If you don’t believe me, either come home with me and see for yourself, or wait for tomorrow’s parent-teacher meeting.
“Better to come with me—once that door shuts, you can scream for heaven and earth and neither will answer.”
I played the part of borrowing someone else’s power to the fullest, so much so that they didn’t dare not believe me, at least for the moment.
I walked out of the classroom, out of the school gates, casual and unhurried, and no one came after me.
I let out a huge breath of relief once I was clear.
But words alone never carried nearly as much weight as the real thing showing up in person.
Once I got back, I started scheming over how to get Zhou Haiyan to pose as my older brother at tomorrow’s parent-teacher meeting.
That night, Auntie Zhou had already gone to rest, and Zhou Haiyan was giving someone a tattoo.
I sat beside him, fawning shamelessly, refusing to be shooed away no matter what.
Fanned him when he was hot, covered him with a blanket when he was cold, poured water when he was thirsty, kneaded his shoulders when they ached, rubbed his back when he was tired.
Whatever tool he needed, I’d already sterilized it and had it in his hand the very next second.
Every so often I’d throw in a compliment: what great taste, what impressive skill.
The client getting the tattoo teased Zhou Haiyan, asking where he’d found such a devoted little assistant.
He kept his head down, working the shading machine steadily, and said with a completely straight face, “Fell from the sky.”
The client burst out laughing so hard he barely registered the pain anymore.
The shading took a long time, and lulled by the machine’s quiet hum, I ended up dozing off, slumped over the table without realizing it.
By the time I woke again, I was on the tatami mat, and Zhou Haiyan had just finished wrapping up his work.
After the client left, he pulled off his gloves and got straight to the point.
“Whatever it is, out with it.”
“Huh? Is it that obvious?” I rubbed my face.
He didn’t answer, but his eyes made it perfectly clear: you can’t hide anything from me.
I stammered, “It’s just—there’s a parent-teacher meeting tomorrow. Could you go? Please?”
Afraid he’d refuse, I tacked on a “big brother” at the end for good measure.
That perked him right up. He said, sighing theatrically, “Well, well. Only calls me big brother when there’s something in it for her—never a peep out of her the rest of the time.”
I rubbed the tip of my nose, guilty.
Calling Auntie “Auntie” came naturally, but calling him “brother” felt strange for some reason, especially with my accent—it came out sounding almost like a hen clucking after laying an egg.
I forced myself to say it a few more times anyway, gritting my teeth through it.
The upward curve of his mouth was visible even to the naked eye, his handsome eyes brimming with amusement.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
I let out a breath of relief and immediately pushed my luck.
“Big brother, then wear something a little revealing tomorrow, so your big tattooed arm shows.”
That, combined with his naturally fierce-looking face, would scare them even more.
He paused, staring at me intently.
“Are you being bullied at school? Tell me the truth.”
Something in my chest trembled faintly. After some hesitation, I decided to admit it, and confessed to him about using his name to threaten people that day as well.
“Looks dopey, but sharp when it counts.”
He nodded. “Alright. I know about it now. Just focus on school, don’t worry.”
Seeing he wasn’t angry, I pushed even further.
“Big brother, then tomorrow you absolutely have to show off your big tattooed arm and scare them half to death.”
He looked utterly baffled. “Where would I even get a big tattooed arm?”
Strange as it sounds—
though Zhou Haiyan was a tattoo artist, he didn’t have a single tattoo on his own body.
But that was no problem. I’d already come prepared.
My eyes lit up, and the next second I pulled out a strip of temporary tattoo stickers, fifty cents each, and spread them across the table.
“Big brother, do you like the Azure Dragon or the White Tiger?”
“…”