Chapter Twelve: There Must Always Be a Villain in Life

After practicing for more than two hours, Cheng Xiaoyu glanced at his watch and decided to call it a day. He’d lost quite a bit of time earlier searching for the piano room, and now it was almost half past six. He resolved that, starting tomorrow, he would practice for at least four hours a day.

Cheng Xiaoyu picked up his backpack and left the piano room. He found the middle-aged man managing the practice rooms by the stairwell, paid the fee, and booked a slot for the next afternoon. Fearing that today’s room might be taken by the time he arrived tomorrow, he prepaid two hundred yuan and asked the man to start counting from one o’clock. This sum was nothing to him. Just that morning, Aunt Zhou had handed him five thousand yuan in cash and returned his supplementary credit card with a fifty-thousand limit; the card would automatically pay off at the end of the billing cycle.

He walked out of Fudan’s Arts Department piano room just as the university’s brightest students were heading to the cafeteria for dinner. His stomach rumbled with hunger, so he quickened his pace toward the campus gate. While in the taxi, Aunt Zhou called, asking why he wasn’t home yet. He didn’t explain much, just said he’d attended a club activity and would probably be getting home later from now on.

The taxi could only take him to the gate of Moon Lake Manor. From there, the estate’s golf carts, driven by Black security guards, ferried him to the villa. When Cheng Xiaoyu arrived home, Qiao San was already waiting at the door. Taking his backpack, Qiao San said, “Young Master, the gentleman, madam, and miss are all waiting for you for dinner.” Surprised, Cheng Xiaoyu hurried to the dining room.

Passing by the family’s music room, he heard Su Yuxi inside, practicing the piano. He could only vaguely make out the notes, unable to identify the piece. Her slender, fair hands danced across the keys like lotus blossoms blooming by a pond. The sight of Su Yuxi at the piano was breathtakingly beautiful, but Cheng Xiaoyu dared not linger even a second, quickening his steps to the dining room.

After dinner, Su Yuxi returned to the music room to continue practicing. Cheng Xiaoyu retreated to his bedroom, planning to review his texts and study traditional characters. Aunt Zhou came up to ask why he was so late coming home. He repeated his story about joining the music club and being delayed by an activity. Aunt Zhou, not as easily fooled as Ji Xin, didn’t call him out but instead told him that, from now on, Wang Huasheng would pick up both Su Yuxi from the company and Cheng Xiaoyu from school. After trying to refuse a few times and seeing Aunt Zhou wouldn’t budge, Cheng Xiaoyu gave up.

His driver’s license was still being held by the traffic police, so driving himself was out of the question for now. Aunt Zhou also asked what kind of piano he wanted. Cheng Xiaoyu shared his thoughts: he didn’t want just a simple music room, but a basic recording studio. Aunt Zhou agreed, saying as long as he didn’t come in last in the final exams, he could do as he pleased with the music room.

With Wang Ou, the campus paparazzo, time at school passed quickly. Even trips to the restroom had to be made together, whether Cheng Xiaoyu needed to go or not. In class, he focused on memorizing texts and studying traditional characters. After school, he headed straight to the Fudan Music Department’s piano rooms to practice and occasionally accompanied Teacher Ji’s choir in the small auditorium. He never ran into Professor Hu, Ji Xin’s teacher, at Fudan. The days slipped by quietly and uneventfully—no campus bullies extorting or beating him up, and no school beauties throwing themselves into his arms. For Cheng Xiaoyu, this was his greatest regret.

In the blink of an eye, it was already mid-December, and New Year’s Day was just around the corner.

At dismissal, the homeroom teacher, Wang Wei, signaled for everyone to stay behind for a class meeting. The old-fashioned teacher called for silence and then calmly addressed the restless students: “This year’s New Year’s Arts Gala is being organized by the City Education Committee. Our school, along with Shanghai High, Gezhi Academy, and Fengxian Girls’ High, will host the event at Fudan University’s main auditorium. The school requires every class to put on a program, which will be selected by Teacher Ji Xin. Now, let’s brainstorm and come up with some ideas for our class’s performance!”

The classroom immediately erupted into noise. Before any suggestions could be made, Chen Haoran, the top student in both class and grade, sitting in the middle of the second row, raised his hand. “Mr. Wang, I have a tutoring session and I’ll be late. May I leave early?” Wang Wei, always indulgent toward this star student, waved him off, and instantly a forest of hands shot up. For seniors, a performance couldn’t possibly compare to the importance of college entrance exams. The time spent rehearsing could be better used practicing more questions, possibly gaining higher scores on the test. Besides, there was no guarantee their act would even pass the school selection.

Understanding his students’ priorities, Wang Wei said, “Alright, those who want may leave. Class committee members stay behind to discuss, and Cheng Xiaoyu, you stay too—you’re our only music student, so help us think of something.” As soon as he finished, the non-committee students rushed out in a chaotic exodus. Wang Wei gathered his teaching materials, told class president Li Liwei, “Organize the committee and come up with a plan tonight. Let me know tomorrow,” then strode out, clutching his thermos.

Li Liwei called over the seven or eight committee members, most of whom sat at the front. Only Cheng Xiaoyu was left alone in the back, and Li Liwei beckoned him forward. “Anyone with ideas, speak up,” he said. Li Liwei, with his sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, was quite handsome, usually ranked in the top twenty, and was not only student council vice president but also the school basketball team’s small forward—a typical Prince Charming in many girls’ eyes.

But when it came to the talent show, no one gave the class president any face. The committee fell silent, not wanting the responsibility. Gu Manting, both study committee member and Chinese class representative, broke the awkward silence, “Shouldn’t Xia Shamo decide? She’s the arts committee member.” At once, everyone turned to a tall, slender girl with slightly wavy hair and black-rimmed glasses.

Cheng Xiaoyu followed their gaze. Xia Shamo, fair-skinned and exuding a quiet purity, blushed under their attention and mumbled, “I don’t really have any ideas yet.” The room fell into collective gloom. Someone suggested the sports committee member, Huang Liang, perform martial arts—he was the only student in their school with a level-seven martial arts rank. Huang Liang quickly protested, saying he’d strained his right Achilles tendon and couldn’t do any sports lately.

Someone else said Gu Manting had a lovely singing voice and should do a duet with class president Li Liwei. Gu Manting immediately shot a black look at hygiene committee member Li Jun and vice president Wang Jie, who’d made the suggestion, snapping, “Why don’t you two go perform a comedy sketch?” Soon, the entire committee was in an uproar.

Seeing the meeting dissolve into chaos, Li Liwei raised his voice. “Enough! How about Xia Shamo performs guzheng? Last year’s school gala had a great response.” Everyone immediately agreed.

Xia Shamo nervously adjusted her glasses. “But every school event I perform guzheng. Isn’t that too perfunctory?”

Li Liwei frowned and turned to Cheng Xiaoyu. “Hey, Creeper, what instrument do you play?”

Cheng Xiaoyu was annoyed by the nickname but couldn’t be bothered to argue. “Piano,” he replied.

Li Liwei grinned. “How about you two do a duet—piano and guzheng, East meets West? What does everyone think?” The committee applauded the idea.

Xia Shamo looked at Cheng Xiaoyu, resignation written on her face. “But I can’t arrange music.”

Cheng Xiaoyu was not one to be trifled with. If Li Liwei had spoken to him respectfully, he might have agreed readily, but with such a flippant attitude, Cheng Xiaoyu saw no reason to oblige. He’d always believed in reciprocating respect. So he looked at Li Liwei and said, calmly, “No problem. Just get a grand concert piano into the school for me first.”

Li Liwei hadn’t expected the usually silent, awkwardly chubby Cheng Xiaoyu to be so hard to push around. He was taken aback and a bit disgruntled, but he put on a serious tone. “Cheng Xiaoyu, I have no right to criticize you, but do you know how many class points you’ve cost us these past two months? Every month, we get penalized because of you, and our class always ranks at the bottom. Every time, the whole class has to do extra cleaning! Now, when we ask you to contribute, you’re dragging your feet.”

Cheng Xiaoyu had actually forgotten about this. Maybe his unpopularity stemmed from these incidents. His bravado faltered. If he made a fuss, he’d end up isolated. Knowing he had no choice, and not wanting to waste time, he stood up. “Fine, count me in. I’ll cooperate with whatever you arrange.” With that, he gathered his things to leave. He didn’t fear being ostracized—high schoolers’ petty games meant nothing to him. But he hated owing people, and it was true that his demerits had brought trouble to his classmates. He wanted to make it up to them.

Seeing him back down, Li Liwei looked down on him all the more. He sneered at Cheng Xiaoyu’s back, “Don’t worry, nobody expects you to get past the school selection. Can your piano skills compare to Su Yuxi’s?”

Cheng Xiaoyu turned and smiled. “That’s not for you to decide. Anyway, will you pay me if I do make it?”

Li Liwei’s father was the deputy principal, so he’d never taken Cheng Xiaoyu seriously. He’d always known Cheng Xiaoyu got in through connections and doubted his piano skills. Besides, the school would only pick one piano act, and Su Yuxi was the school’s pride—a shoo-in for the gala. How could Cheng Xiaoyu compete with the talented, beautiful Su Yuxi? He sneered, “Let’s not talk about money. Who’s short of your pocket change? If you make it past selection, I’ll run three laps around the sports field naked. If you don’t, you’ll do the same. Deal?”

Cheng Xiaoyu smiled. “Don’t regret it!”

Li Liwei gave a mocking laugh. “You agreed yourself. Don’t go crying to your parents later.” He turned to arts committee member Xia Shamo. “Xia Shamo, just work with Creeper. Let’s see what surprise he brings to the class.” He didn’t care if she agreed.

Cheng Xiaoyu couldn’t be bothered to say more. He picked up his bag and left via the back door, the sound of mocking laughter trailing behind him. To Li Liwei, this chubby upstart was nothing more than a brainless brat. Such people should just serve as background for the top students. If they dared to act out, he’d gladly dish out a little humiliation. People like him—handsome, smart, from a good family—were meant to play lead roles in life. As for those who didn’t excel academically, Li Liwei always felt a sense of intellectual superiority. Watching Cheng Xiaoyu leave, he smiled at the others, “Nobody really expects Cheng Xiaoyu to strip and run. I just hope he learns his lesson and doesn’t lose us any more points.” The group, captivated by Li Liwei’s demeanor, failed to notice the scorn at the corner of his mouth.

The committee dispersed, satisfied with the outcome. Li Liwei invited Gu Manting to a café off campus to study together. “Roman & Sugar” was a popular haunt for couples, always packed after school. Those who couldn’t snag a spot had to settle for the cheap McDonald’s next door. Soon, the committee was gone, leaving only Xia Shamo quietly packing her bag in the classroom. No one cared about the feelings of this shy girl.

In each other’s lives, we all play roles that may be insignificant or easily forgotten. Some people shine so brightly they’re carved into our memories. Others can stand right in front of you and remain invisible. Still others are the laughable, humble foils—stepping stones for someone else’s success, mere remnants at the edge of a brilliant life. But life is not a movie. Who is really willing to play the villain?