Chapter 17: The Reason for Expulsion

After Jiang Fan left, the bathroom door stood wide open. The swirling snowstorm swept inside, making the bewildered Wang Wenyu shiver violently. She staggered back a couple of steps, crossing her arms tightly around her shoulders and pressing herself against the tiled wall to escape the icy wind.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Help! There's a pervert—!" Only now did Wang Wenyu finally regain her senses, and she screamed for help at the top of her lungs. Her piercing cries instantly startled the supervisor aunt who had been dozing at her desk. The aunt hurried to wrap Wang Wenyu in clothes and took her to her own room, then called both campus security and the Office of Political Affairs. Before long, the responsible officials rushed over in a flurry.

Thanks to clues provided by a student fetching hot water at the door, it didn’t take long to find Jiang Fan, soaked to the skin, curled up in his quilt, still shivering.

When Jiang Fan was dragged out of the dormitory, arms handcuffed behind his back, the campus—which had been on the verge of lights-out—erupted into chaos.

Jiang Fan, a perennial model student of the Chinese Department, disgraced for molesting Wang Wenyu, the renowned beauty of the Psychology Department—such an explosive piece of news swept the university in an instant.

No one knew how many versions of the story circulated, but in the end, it was said that Jiang Fan had gone all the way with Wang Wenyu in the bathhouse.

That very night, the university administration convened an emergency meeting attended by all major leaders. As Jiang Fan’s homeroom teacher, Yan Wenying was present as well.

The incident had its roots in the women’s bathhouse boiler breaking down. As the repair couldn’t be completed in time, the school decided to let men and women bathe in shifts in the same bathhouse temporarily. To avoid accidents, the school announced the new schedule three times over the campus broadcast and hung a wooden sign detailing the bathing times outside the men’s bathhouse.

From 6 to 8 p.m., it was men’s time; from 8 to 10 p.m., women’s.

Unfortunately, when the announcement aired, Jiang Fan was busy hauling coal briquettes in an alley and heard nothing of it. When he returned that evening, he happened to catch the bathhouse just before closing and, in his haste, failed to notice the sign on the door.

In these times, when moral conduct was held in the highest regard, even peeking at women bathing was a crime, sometimes punishable by several years in prison.

Teacher Yan understood Jiang Fan’s character well and firmly believed in the integrity of this exemplary student. But the school leadership was wary of Wang Wenyu’s influential family. Eager to curry favor with the Wang family, they insisted on the harshest punishment—not only demanding Jiang Fan’s expulsion but also preparing to hand him over to the police.

Teacher Yan pleaded for Jiang Fan, vouching for him with her own reputation. Her own family, being influential in Beijing’s inner circles, forced the leadership to take her views into consideration as well.

After two hours of fierce debate, the school carefully reconsidered and finally agreed to downgrade Jiang Fan’s offense from lewd conduct to a moral failing, and settled on expulsion.

This was the best result Teacher Yan could possibly obtain.

In those days, entering university was an honor that brought glory to one’s ancestors, with graduation almost guaranteeing a stable, lifelong career. Out of thousands of examinees in a county, less than eight percent would be admitted to university, and fewer than three percent to key institutions. For children from rural backgrounds, the college entrance exam was the only way to leap over the dragon gate.

Expulsion was a devastating blow to someone who had studied diligently for over a decade. For Jiang Fan, from a single-parent family, it was not just the shattering of his personal dream, but the collapse of hope for his entire family.

Branded as having a “moral issue,” he didn’t even have the courage to return to his dormitory to pack his belongings. Through the heavy snow, he ran with long, desperate strides. When he reached the campus gate, he stopped abruptly and turned back to gaze at the once-familiar main entrance.

Clenching his jaw, he spat fiercely at the edge of the gate.

“Damn it, today you trampled my dignity underfoot, but one day I’ll return with my head held high!”

With that, he spun around and dashed off into the night.

He ran through the swirling snow, down deserted roads, past one street after another, until sweat soaked through his cotton coat and frost formed on his eyebrows. He never slowed his heavy steps.

He railed against the school leaders for their unfairness, cursed the times themselves.

Running, he sobbed uncontrollably.

Tears blurred his vision; he wiped them away with his sleeve, smearing coal dust and tears across his already haggard face.

He didn’t know how long he ran before finally reaching Li Jiuguan’s rented place at Di’anmen after setting out from Weigongcun.

When Li Jiuguan learned Jiang Fan had been expelled and heard the whole story, he felt both sorrow and a touch of anger—anger that Jiang Fan hadn’t been strong enough.

If he couldn’t withstand setbacks, how could he achieve anything in the decades to come?

Though usually indulgent with Jiang Fan, Li Jiuguan this time gave him a sound thrashing, slapping him more than a dozen times before pausing to look him over deeply. That look wavered at first, then became resolute.

With the road to school cut off, Jiang Fan had only one path left—to venture out into the world.

Li Jiuguan dug out an envelope from the depths of his wardrobe, removed the letter inside, then borrowed thirty-five yuan from neighbors for travel expenses. He handed it all to his kneeling apprentice and, in a commanding tone, said, “This is your senior brother’s address. He left the army two years ago and went to Dongguan. Go to him. Make something of yourself. Live like a man, standing tall.”

And so, Li Jiuguan sent Jiang Fan off on a southbound train, beginning his wandering life.

In his dreams, Jiang Fan had often replayed the accident in the bathhouse with Wang Wenyu. This time, though, she appeared in his dream still resentful that expulsion was all he suffered, vowing to settle scores with him.

The dream broke when Uncle Qiu from the dumpling shop knocked on his door.

Kind Uncle Qiu had noticed Jiang Fan hadn’t left his rented room since returning to pack earlier that afternoon. Knowing he hadn’t had dinner, and seeing it was already close to eleven at night, he guessed Jiang Fan was unwilling to spend money on food. He decided to invite Jiang Fan to join him and his wife for a late-night meal before closing up.

Under Uncle Qiu’s caring gaze, Jiang Fan ate Aunt Qiu’s homemade northeastern dumplings. For someone adrift on his own, such warmth was more precious than any material comfort.

Jiang Fan did not know that, while this day seemed uneventful, during the time he slept, certain matters connected to him were quietly unfolding—including those involving the two women who appeared in his dream.

After their recent reunion and nearly twenty hours together, Hao Meng’s understanding of Jiang Fan, as well as her feelings for him—mired though she was—deepened further.

She was happy when with him, but once she left and boarded the minibus, the tangled, mismatched nature of their relationship left her despondent.

Back at the Happy Family Hotel, she didn’t return to her dormitory, nor did she remember to put on makeup—showing up to work barefaced once more.

The hotel’s “mama” was strict: makeup was mandatory, with fines for those who neglected it. Yesterday, Vice President Zhang had hurried her along, so she had a valid excuse. But today, seeing her still without makeup and looking so listless, Vice President Zhang scolded angrily, “What’s wrong with you? Wandering around like you’ve lost your soul. Don’t you know the rules? That’s a two hundred yuan fine.”

Thinking of how she’d just helped Jiang Fan settle in and now had hardly any money left, Hao Meng hid her worries, put on a pitiful expression, and replied, “It’s because my period came. I’ve been in pain all day, but I still came to work, didn’t I? Can’t you spare me just this once?”