By the end of November 1995, my first stint in "college" came to an early end, thanks to Chen Qiang pulling some strings.
I'd been squatting in there for just under half a year. Seeing the dazzling world outside again was actually a bit of a rush.
During those six months, I met quite a few people—all sorts of characters from the dregs of society and every walk of life.
They say doing time is like going to college, and they aren't wrong. The things you learn inside, you might never learn in a real university in a lifetime.
And the scholarly air I used to carry was completely ground away during those months.
Xu Rang picked me up outside in a beat-up Nissan Bluebird.
The moment he saw me, he hooked his arm around my neck. "Brother, whatever you do, don't look back. Once you're out of this hellhole, don't ever come back inside."
I laughed out loud. "It's not that dramatic. I actually had a pretty good time in there."
Xu Rang shook his head, smiling bitterly. "You call that time? Wait until you do real hard time, then you'll know 'college' isn't so easy to attend."
"You only had it easy these six months because Brother Qiang was running around for you on the outside. Otherwise, you would've shed a few layers of skin in there just to get out."
I thought about it, and it was true. If Chen Qiang hadn't greased the wheels, there was no way my life inside would have been that comfortable.
"You got it, brother. I've noted it down. I'll fight to the death before I come back in here."
I made a good promise, but I never dreamed that I would enter and exit that place three times before I finally paid off all the sins weighing on me.
After getting out, Xu Rang drove me home first. Before he left, he told me that Chen Qiang had set up a banquet at a restaurant in town to wash away my bad luck.
He told me to come to the feast that night.
I nodded and agreed. I said goodbye to Xu Rang, pushed open my front door with a pounding heart, and called out, "Mom."
My mother hadn't expected me out so soon; I was supposed to serve another six months. I don't know where Chen Qiang managed to get me released on medical parole.
My mother rushed forward, looking me over carefully from head to toe, muttering about how thin I'd gotten.
In reality, I'd actually gained a few pounds inside, but in a mother's eyes, her child has always suffered when they're away.
She said she was going to cook, but I hesitated before speaking. "No, Mom. Brother Qiang helped me a lot with this mess. I want to treat him to a simple meal."
My mother's busy figure froze. She seemed to realize something and turned around, her lips trembling as if she wanted to say something.
But the words wouldn't come out.
My heart felt heavy. She was worried I would mix with Chen Qiang and follow the same path as my biological brother.
"Son, how much money did Little Qiang spend on you? Tell Mom. I'll sell the house, sell the fields, I'll pay him back for you. Just don't go. Don't go mixing with him."
There was a look of near-begging in my mother's eyes.
I didn't dare look her in the eye. I turned my head away.
"Mom, there are some things... it's not about money."
My mother instantly lost it. She stomped her foot and cursed, "How is it not about money? If you insist on running with Chen Qiang, what can you possibly become? You want to end up like your big brother, running around until you get a bullet hole in your head?"
I lowered my head, stubbornly silent.
I followed Chen Qiang, and Chen Qiang had indeed done a lot for me, even going so far as to offend Tumor—a boss on the same level as him.
Without him, I'd still be squatting inside, and my hand tendons would have been sliced by Tumor's men long ago.
More importantly, in the heart of my seventeen-year-old self, there was still a thing called yiqi—loyalty.
Chen Qiang didn't fail me, so I absolutely could not fail Chen Qiang.
My mother raised her hand, slapping the back of my head again and again. I stiffened my neck and refused to say a word.
She hit me until she was tired, then slumped onto the ground and began to wail.
"Heavens above, Bodhisattvas, what sin did I commit? I married a beast, and gave birth to two sons who are both hell-bent on dying rather than living a good life! Oh, Heavens..."
My heart felt like it was being cut with a knife. I knelt before my mother. "Mom, don't worry. I'm just treating Chen Qiang to a meal to repay his kindness. I won't do anything with him. Once I repay the favor, I'll find a job, or I'll sell vegetables with you."
My mother didn't believe me. I had to promise her over and over again that I wouldn't mix in society with Chen Qiang, that I was just paying back a debt of gratitude.
Finally, as the sky began to darken, she relented. She went back into the room and brought out a large handful of loose change—all one-yuan and two-yuan notes (back in '95, there was a green two-yuan bill). It was money she had saved from selling vegetables.
There must have been over a hundred yuan there.
"Son, take this. Treat Little Qiang to a good meal. Tell Little Qiang that if there's anything we can help with in the future, you and I will help, but you must not go mixing in society with him."
Looking at the handful of bills, the corners of my eyes grew wet.
My mother was getting old, her hair graying at the temples, yet she still woke up in the dark and worked till dusk selling vegetables to earn money, worrying about me.
A thought rose in my heart: I wanted to make something of myself. I wanted to be capable, to make money, to build a big, beautiful house for my mother so she wouldn't have to sell vegetables from dawn to dusk anymore.
I tried to give the money back to her, refusing to take it, but no matter what I said, she wouldn't take it back.
"Son, remember this: our family may be poor, but we walk with our backs straight. We don't owe Little Qiang anything. Take the money and treat him to a proper meal. If it's not enough, Mom will figure something out."
"Son, you must not walk the wrong path. Think about how your brother went. Mom only has you left. Nothing can happen to you!"
Every word was like an awl, stabbing straight into my heart, making my eyes sting.
I hurriedly stuffed the money into my pocket, not daring to look into my mother's expectant eyes again.
I was afraid I would cry.
My mother was an unfortunate woman. She married my father, and she gave birth to a son like me.
I strode out of the courtyard, shouting loudly, "Mom, don't worry. I'm just having a meal with Chen Qiang. I'll be fine. Go back inside and rest."
I didn't look back, but I knew that at that moment, my mother was probably standing on her tiptoes, watching my back, watching her youngest son.
I pushed open the courtyard gate. The winter wind was like a knife, stinging my cheeks.
Braving the bone-scraping cold wind, I left home and walked toward the restaurant in town.
With that walk, I stepped right into the treacherous jianghu—a world of deception and schemes.
Many years later, when short videos became popular, there was a very famous saying:
The boy has not yet strapped on his sword, but stepping out the door, he is already in the Jianghu.
I want to say, that year, when I braved the cold wind to keep my appointment, I didn't even have a sword at my waist.
Step by step, I approached that restaurant. Inside, it was brightly lit.
But thinking back on it now, I realize that in my memory, that restaurant looks so gloomy and terrifying.
So much so that I dare not even look back on it.