Chapter Twenty-Five: The Weak Link

Yan Xue let out a sigh. She already had a clear idea of what Gao Yang’s situation was truly like. Her perspective on this differed somewhat from Gao Yang’s own summary; while Gao Yang believed that his mother and Xu Wenrui’s mother were engaged in a sort of rivalry, Yan Xue, drawing on her own experiences, thought it resembled more an imagined adversarial relationship.

Though she herself could not fully comprehend such a mindset, the reality was that some people simply behaved this way. On one hand, they maintained a close, frequent relationship with the other party; on the other, they were constantly competing, striving to outdo the other and thus derive a certain psychological satisfaction.

This peculiar relationship—both adversarial and friendly—often left the main parties rather content, but made life difficult for their other family members, who were inevitably drawn into this bizarre contest, becoming tools in their attempts to suppress one another.

“What’s your mother’s win rate when facing Xu Wenrui’s mother?” Knowing all too well this sense of helplessness, Yan Xue’s tone carried a hint of teasing, but also genuine sympathy.

Gao Yang managed a wry smile and pointed at himself. “Except for me, my mother has always been ahead of Xu Wenrui’s mother in every other area. I’ve heard that even back in school, my mom’s grades were just a bit better than Xu Wenrui’s mom’s. After graduation, her job was a bit better, too. When it came to finding a partner, my dad was superior to Uncle Xu in looks, career, and family background.

So my mom has always been like a victorious general in front of Xu Wenrui’s mother, feeling quite proud. Whenever the two of them got together, my mom would always be the one sharing her advanced experiences. Who would have thought that when it came to the next generation, I’d turn out to be the weak link, capsizing her ship in this little ditch after so many years of glory.”

“Aren’t you being a bit too harsh on yourself?” Kang Ge laughed and waved his hand. “Sure, maybe Xu Wenrui’s university is a bit better than yours, but that just means he worked a little harder in high school and performed a bit better on the entrance exam. But once at university, as you heard today, he didn’t outshine you at all.

You heard it yourself—Xu Wenrui even failed a course, couldn’t pass the make-up exam, had to retake it, and struggled to borrow money for the retake fee because he wasn’t popular among his classmates. How about you? How did you do in college? Even if you didn’t plan to go to grad school, what were your grades like? Did you ever fail a course or have to retake one?”

“I never failed a course, but I never won a scholarship either. Just average, nothing special,” Gao Yang said, a little embarrassed.

“So, looking at it this way, there’s not much of a gap between you two, is there?” Kang Ge was puzzled. “To me, it’s pretty much a draw. If nothing had happened to Xu Wenrui, after graduation it’d be hard to say who’d be better off. At best, it’d be six of one, half a dozen of the other.”

Gao Yang shook his head. “To be honest, I feel the same way as you now. After hearing what his classmates and counselor said today, I realized the gap between us isn’t that big.

The problem is, neither his family nor mine sees it that way. The information our elders get is completely different. You must have heard what his mom and mine were saying the other day—they both claimed Xu Wenrui was beloved by everyone at school, blossoming wherever he went, excelling in his studies, full of talent, with professors urging him to pursue graduate studies, and he himself reluctant to give up job opportunities outside. How could I possibly compete with that?”

“So you think Xu Wenrui’s whole family deliberately constructed this illusion to win?” asked Kang Ge.

“Not exactly. I think his mother is just like mine—she truly believes all of it. Otherwise, she could just use those stories to fool my mom; there’d be no need to announce them everywhere.

Xu Wenrui’s mother praises her son to the skies to anyone who’ll listen, painting his future as bright as can be. Honestly, in their little social circle, Xu Wenrui’s excellence is common knowledge! Nearly everyone urges their kids to learn from him, though my mother is by far the most extreme.

She’s always wanted me to spend more time with Xu Wenrui, to grow up as friends, hoping that by being around him, I’d be influenced to become more ambitious myself.”

When mentioning his “friendship” with Xu Wenrui, Gao Yang’s expression became especially helpless.

“So, because of your mothers, you and Xu Wenrui were basically childhood companions? You grew up together—you should know him pretty well, right? I mean, as kids, we all tend to hide our true selves from our elders as we grow older, so the gap between a parent’s perception and reality isn’t hard to understand. But childhood friends usually know each other best. How did he manage to fool even you?” Kang Ge asked.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t call myself his childhood friend—not worthy of the term,” Gao Yang replied with a self-deprecating wave of his hand. Then, realizing Xu Wenrui was no longer alive, his expression turned complicated and he amended, “At best, I was just a tagalong.”

Yan Xue saw through it. “So, you avoided spending time with him because you always came up short in comparison?”

“That’s part of it, but the main reason is that we were just not alike at all. It wasn’t just me who felt that way—he felt the same about me. The less I wanted to interact with him, the less he wanted to interact with me.

When our families got together, the entire evening would pass with the two mothers talking endlessly, the two fathers keeping their heads down, and Xu Wenrui and I each glued to our phones, ignoring each other as long as the adults didn’t notice.”

“So you two basically couldn’t stand each other?” Kang Ge propped his chin in his hand, as if listening to a story.

“Yeah,” Gao Yang admitted frankly. “Our personalities were just too different. I take after my dad—quiet, not fond of lively things. My mom always says the two of us are like blocks of wood, dull and awkward.

As for Xu Wenrui, I don’t know who he takes after, but he was always the center of attention, loved the spotlight, and was extremely self-assured. From a young age, he was exactly the kind of clever child adults adored.

I hated the way our mothers competed, but Xu Wenrui was different. He probably felt like the winner, savoring the fruits of that rivalry, so he enjoyed it and played along enthusiastically. As we got older, he started treating me like a rival whenever we met.

He was overconfident, almost to the point of narcissism—thought he was handsome, smart, quick-witted. He liked to make jokes at my expense, and his so-called jokes were always a bit hurtful, as if he found amusement in mocking others. Over time, I just wanted nothing to do with him.”

“For example?” Kang Ge prompted.

“Well, for instance, he loved to tease me about my flaws. There was a period when I had pretty bad acne, and he said that if I ever had a son, I should name him Gao Southland, because ‘red beans grow in the Southland.’ Then he’d say I’d have to marry a wife as beautiful as a swan, because ‘red beans are the most yearning,’ and a toad like me must be dreaming of swan meat.”

Kang Ge raised his eyebrows. “Wow! Xu Wenrui looked like a handsome guy, but his tongue was certainly sharp! So much for ‘a person’s appearance reveals their character’—there’s clearly no science in that!”

Gao Yang reflexively wanted to nod, but stopped himself.

“How were Xu Wenrui’s grades growing up?” Yan Xue asked.

“They were fine—not outstanding, not bad either. A bit better than mine, but not enough to be called a genius.

Honestly, I didn’t know his exact grades. We were never at the same school, so whatever we heard about each other’s performance came from the adults talking when our families got together.

He got into K University partly thanks to luck, I think. I remember when he got the admission notice, his parents were so excited they threw a huge banquet, inviting anyone they could think of. The celebration was extravagant—the kind you’d expect if someone had won the lottery, not just done as expected in exams.” Gao Yang recalled it vividly, as if it were just yesterday.