Chapter 36 – To ask why

Translator: Abo Dammen

This was indeed a surprise, or perhaps “shock” was more appropriate. The moment Chi Zhao’s voice fell, the entire laboratory fell so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Have you gone mad, Chi Zhao?” a senior sister exclaimed after two seconds of silence, her voice cracking with urgency. “Calm down! Don’t be so impulsive!”

Similar plotlines in TV dramas are always very dashing. The protagonist fears no powerful authority, the protagonist is fearless, the protagonist, relying on sheer passion and righteous fervor, reports the injustice and finally turns things around, the protagonist…

The protagonist in TV dramas never fails, but real life isn’t so lucky. In real life, there are too many things that aren’t black and white, and each of us has too many considerations.

“Do you have evidence, Chi Zhao? Are you sure they really have a problem?” another senior brother asked Chi Zhao, directly grabbing his arm. “Do you know that with a real-name report, you also bear responsibility? If the investigation concludes there’s no problem, you’re finished.”

“Yeah, Chi Zhao, calm down a bit,” another person moved closer to Chi Zhao, sighing heavily. “While you still can, go withdraw the report. It’s not worth gambling your future for just this one project.”

Everyone’s reaction was intense. No one had imagined Chi Zhao would do such a thing. In all fairness, they were indeed dissatisfied, they certainly had many complaints, but this was just a small project. None of them had any evidence. If even Professor Fu hasn’t said anything about it, why should a student get involved? There will be so many more opportunities in the future. If your prospects are affected because of this minor matter, it’s just not worth it.

“Just forget it.” Everyone said this to Chi Zhao. We all wish we could be as dashing and brave as protagonists in films and dramas, but reality is, after all, reality. “Withdraw the report.”

Everyone’s dissuasion was very heartfelt, genuinely considering Chi Zhao’s best interests. They hoped Chi Zhao would change his mind, but Chi Zhao just shook his head. His face was full of weariness, the mark of staying up many nights writing materials.

Chi Zhao had long anticipated everyone’s reaction. He was dead set on doing this, so he had submitted the report materials before everyone could try to dissuade him. He said, “It’s already too late. There’s no room for regret anymore.”

After Chi Zhao spoke, the lab fell into silence. The silent atmosphere was somewhat oppressive. Once the report letter is sent, there is no possibility of withdrawal. And all subsequent consequences must be borne by Chi Zhao, and he must bear them. Society grants citizens this right, but it does not allow us to abuse it. Chi Zhao’s real-name report was submitted, and what awaited him was endless talks.

University leaders, department leaders, leaders from various levels came to talk to Chi Zhao, to understand the situation. It was truly a troublesome matter, potentially affecting the reputation of one unit or more. Everyone prefers simplicity over trouble, so almost every leader who spoke with Chi Zhao had the same goal: to persuade him to drop the report.

“How about you just apologize, say you were mistaken, and let this matter pass? We won’t report it further.”

“Young man, why be so stubborn? There will be plenty of opportunities in the future. Don’t you know Professor Fu’s capabilities?”

“This is a report without evidence. It’s slander. If the investigation finds no problem, can you bear the consequences?”

Those people tried every method to persuade Chi Zhao, using both soft and hard tactics. But Chi Zhao was impervious to both. The university leaders grew angry and, in their fury, said things in the heat of the moment, telling Chi Zhao he didn’t need to come anymore, that the school had no place for such self-centered, selfish students. It was only because Fu Nan’an was backing him from above, and also because Chi Zhao planned to study abroad, that this matter ultimately wasn’t recorded in his file and didn’t cause too much impact on his future.

“So why exactly, Chi-ge?”

The news of Chi Zhao’s actions spread among all the interns. Some silently praised his courage, while others couldn’t understand his impulsiveness. Chen Kaiji pulled Chi Zhao up to the rooftop again. The evening wind gushed into their clothes. He asked Chi Zhao, “How could you suddenly have such a lapse in judgment and go report them?”

Chi Zhao stood by the railing. The horizon in the distance was blurred. He didn’t answer.

Chen Kaiji asked him, “Did it feel unfair?”

He asked again, “Couldn’t swallow the injustice?”

He asked further, “Or is there some other hidden reason?”

The evening wind felt chilly on their bodies. No matter how Chen Kaiji asked, Chi Zhao remained silent. He was too silent, not uttering a sound, truly seeming as if he was stubborn to the extreme, completely regardless of everything. So Chen Kaiji could only sigh deeply, helpless. “You were too impulsive, Chi-ge.”

You were too impulsive. Everyone told Chi Zhao this. They all didn’t understand his decision. But since things had developed to this point, it couldn’t just end. Everyone knew about it, so the investigation team still came.

“Tell us about the situation you are aware of, young man.”

The investigation team’s attitude wasn’t particularly good or bad, they were just doing their job impartially, investigating impartially. Someone even comforted Chi Zhao a few words, praising him for being brave and persevering. But the reporting process was too cumbersome and complicated, so Chi Zhao’s life became even busier. Every day, besides his internship, he had to be ready for notifications from the investigation team at any time. It was more of a psychological torment. Before things were settled, everything was hazy. The future was hazy, and the sky was hazy too. As if to set the mood, it had been raining these past few days. The sky was covered in a layer of fog, somewhere between day and night.

Chi Zhao hadn’t been to the lab for a long time. At first, it was because he was busy, and later, it was because he didn’t dare. After submitting the report, he didn’t dare seek out Fu Nan’an. He was afraid Professor Fu would blame him, and afraid Professor Fu wouldn’t understand him either.

He could endure others not understanding him, but if even Fu Nan’an were to criticize him, he would truly be unable to hold himself together.

But perhaps the more you dare not see someone, the more you are destined to run into them. On the evening after meeting with the investigation team, Chi Zhao ran straight into Fu Nan’an in the corridor.

The moment he saw Fu Nan’an, Chi Zhao panicked. He flusteredly quickened his pace, wanting to pass by Fu Nan’an. But perhaps because he was in too much of a hurry, he actually bumped right into Fu Nan’an’s chest.

“Sorry, sorry—”

“Chi Zhao?”

Fu Nan’an reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Is that Chi Zhao?”

Caught like this, Chi Zhao had no possibility of breaking free. So he could only stand still, his voice hoarse as he called out, “Professor.”

“I was just looking for you,” Fu Nan’an said. His tone gave no hint of joy or anger. He led Chi Zhao from the corridor up to the rooftop. The two stood by the edge of the rooftop. He said to Chi Zhao, “Let’s talk.”

Chi Zhao always liked standing on rooftops when he was in a bad mood. The wind was strong up high, people seemed small, and looking down at the world from above gave a feeling of broad-mindedness, as if all troubles were trivial. But the feeling standing there with Professor Fu now was not like that. It was different from standing with Chen Kaiji. Chi Zhao could feel an intangible pressure. “T-talk about what?”

“Anything,” Fu Nan’an said.

They hadn’t spoken since Chi Zhao submitted the report. Fu Nan’an had contacted Chi Zhao a few times on WeChat, but Chi Zhao had pretended not to see the messages. And now, with Professor Fu standing beside him, Chi Zhao’s heart beat irregularly. He couldn’t describe the feeling and didn’t know what to say.

So Fu Nan’an spoke first, “You’ve met with the investigation team?”

The topic jumped straight to the most sharp point. Chi Zhao gave a soft “Mm-hmm.” “Yes, I have.”

“I’ve met them too,” Fu Nan’an said. “You’ve worked hard this period.”

Fu Nan’an’s tone was unreadable, making Chi Zhao somewhat flustered. “Professor, do you blame me too? Did I cause you trouble?”

Fu Nan’an shook his head. “No.”

He was silent for a moment before saying, “This was a very courageous thing to do. You are braver than all of us.”

At this, both fell silent. Fu Nan’an’s words indeed held no intention of blaming Chi Zhao, but the fatigue in his eyes was impossible to hide. After not seeing him for a few days, Professor Fu seemed to have lost more weight, with dark circles all around his eyes. Chi Zhao’s heart sank. He had never seen Professor Fu like this. He didn’t know how to respond.

Since Chi Zhao didn’t respond, Fu Nan’an didn’t continue either. The atmosphere stalled, like a silent standoff. The wind on the top floor whistled against their faces. Chi Zhao found it hard to describe his current feelings. It was as if a stone were pressing on his heart, heavily weighing it down, heavier and heavier. Chi Zhao could barely breathe.

The sky grew later, the wind stronger. The cold wind drilled into his clothes, and Chi Zhao involuntarily coughed twice. He was dressed a bit too lightly. He was cold—cold on his body and cold in his heart. Chi Zhao shivered and couldn’t suppress another cough.

The low coughing sounds finally broke the long-standing silence. It was a fit  of heart-wrenching coughing. Fu Nan’an’s fingers curled and uncurled, finally coming to rest on Chi Zhao’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

Chi Zhao shook his head, his voice a bit hoarse. “I’m fine, Professor.”

His voice was too hoarse. Finally, Fu Nan’an seemed to reach his limit. “Why?”

Chi Zhao didn’t hear clearly. “What?”

“Why did you report it?” Fu Nan’an finally asked. His hand still rested on Chi Zhao’s shoulder. “I don’t blame you, Chi Zhao, but can I ask you why?

“I know your character. You are upright and persistent, but never rash. You’re not the type to act without considering the consequences. You clearly understand the pros and cons of this matter. I’ve thought about it for a long time and couldn’t figure it out.” Fu Nan’an stood before Chi Zhao, his light gray eyes directed towards him. His tone was very calm, his eyes covered by a layer of fog. He asked Chi Zhao, “Why did you report it?”

Why.

So many people had asked Chi Zhao why. Why stubbornly cling to this one matter?

It was just an ordinary project grant, there would be plenty more opportunities in the future. It was something that could jeopardize one’s future, laborious and thankless. Most crucially, it was a matter without evidence; no one knew what the final outcome would be.

With so much hardship, difficulty, and uncertainty, Chi Zhao still did it. To ask why—

Chi Zhao looked up, gazing seriously into Fu Nan’an’s eyes. “I heard everything Jiang Mingyuan said to you that day. You knew all along.”

He spoke word by word, his voice trembling. “Jiang Mingyuan was the one who did this. He was the one who replaced us.”

It was Jiang Mingyuan who replaced them. Fu Nan’an knew.