NOVEL NEXT vol. 1 chapter 13 - “It was pity”
Chapter 13 – “It was pity”
Feeling utterly humiliated, Qin Aihua turned a blind eye to all of Qin Mu's pleas and applied for leave of absence from his school, citing “medical treatment”.
Zheng Yan decided to drop out of work and devoted herself instead to dragging Qin Mu through every major hospital in K city. When she was informed that homosexuality could not be cured, out of despair, she furiously pointed her hand in the face of the doctor and yelled, “What do you mean this is not a sickness?! He is different to other people, why is that not a sickness?! You should be ashamed to call yourself a doctor! You don’t know what sickness is?!” Security guards had to forcefully drag her out of the building. But she refused to give ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) up. She hunted down every single tiny, tucked-away Chinese medicine clinic, in any corner she could find. She carried home the “miracle cures” from all the “miracle doctors”, and then fed them bowl by bowl to Qin Mu.
Qin Mu bore her every torment in silence, letting her do whatever she willed. If she gave him medicine, he drank. If she yelled at him, he listened. If she beat him, he accepted. And even still, he opened his books and continued his studies. He said to himself that one day, his parents would see reason. And then, he’d be able to return to school. He did his utmost to force down the rising panic in his heart. Over and over, he played through his mind every possible reaction and scenario he would encounter when he returned. He comforted himself with the thought that the worst possible scenario would only be that all his classmates saw him as a monster and isolated him. It wasn’t like he had many friends to begin with. He was used to being alone, used to being a loner. Once he got into K University, he’d be able to leave all his troubles behind and start afresh. And when the night turned quiet and still, he couldn’t help but think of Han Zhang, his heart filling with guilt. He had caused unnecessary trouble for the other, and he wasn’t sure how he’d make it up to him.
As Qin Mu went back and forth between worrying for Han Zhang and stressing over a plan for his future, on the other side of the wall, Zheng Yan was turning this way and that in her bed, fretting over her son’s “illness”. Beside her, Qin Aihua had fallen asleep to the TV. The snores that lightened and deepened, at times, seemed to cut off his breathing entirely. Irritated, she snatched the remote from his hand. But as she was about to switch the TV off, she froze. Her body leaned forward, her eyes fixed upon the midnight ad that played on the screen. Like the near-dead discovering the elixir of immortality, every cell in her body was excited.
Without fanfare or forewarning, the brush of fate drew a great comma, then dipped itself in deep black ink, and turned in another direction.
Qin Mu remembered that it was a Wednesday. The weather that day was biting cold. At daybreak, Zheng Yan had already guided him out the door. The destination was far away and they had to change buses three times. The last bus, the 598, drove out of the city and rattled its way into an area in the remote outskirts that he had never seen before. Alighting the bus, a tall, lanky man who looked about 20 approached them and asked, “Are you Mrs Zheng?”
“Yes, yes. I am.” Zheng Yan pushed Qin Mu forward a little, “This is my son.”
The young man’s face had been tanned by the sun, and it was covered in pimples. He turned his gaze at Qin Mu and studied him with a look that was… difficult to describe. He pressed his lips, dropped the words “Get in the car”, and walked away.
Zheng Yan and Qin Mu followed him into the bronze coloured van that was parked on the side of the road. The van appeared quite old and worn, but it had been scrubbed very clean. At the front sat a beefy-looking driver. He gave them a broad smile and flashed his cigarette-yellowed teeth, “Sit tight, it’s a rough ride ahead.”
The van drove out of the county and into increasingly desolate country. Run-down houses faded into the distance behind them, giving way to wild, empty hills.
A vague uneasiness crept over Qin Mu, and he couldn’t hold in the question, “Where are we going?”
“To get treatment for your illness.” Zheng Yan said as she sat next to him with a blank expression.
The driver with the yellow teeth laughed a little and said, “We’re nearly there. Don’t worry.”
The young pimpled man who sat in the front row turned around and cast a quick glance at him, as if wanting to say something. In the short moment that their eyes met, Qin Mu couldn’t catch any meaning.
The van that rattled and shook the entire way finally came to a stop. A massive iron gate stood before them. Stretching on either side was a tall enclosing wall. The top of the wall was lined with shards of broken glass and coils of barbed wire. A large lock, that seemed not often used, hung on the iron gate. A smaller door on the right was used for passage instead. Four men stood at the entrance, each with a metal baton secured at their waist. On the side of the door hung several signs in black and white lettering. One of them read, “K City Eternal Peace Juvenile Reform School”.
Whilst completely unguarded, Qin Mu was suddenly, and roughly, shoved forward by the van driver. His foot crossed the threshold of the door. The four men inside immediately surrounded him, half-coercing, half-pushing, they dragged him further inside. In a fit of panic, Qin Mu started to fight back, but was secured firmly. He, in utter disbelief, desperately turned his head around and saw the blank face of Zheng Yan.
“Mum!” Qin Mu shouted.
Like a lifeless clay doll, Zheng Yan stood there, without responding, without moving, and only silently watched him.
“When it comes to educating children, as parents, you can’t afford to be soft. You let it slide a little, and your child will be ruined.” The yellow-toothed man grinned at her and said, “All the children who go through here, they’re each more well-behaved than the last. No matter how wayward or rebellious the child is, they can all be reformed. Your son is experiencing some problems psychologically. We’ve already organised specialist doctors to formulate a plan for him. Guaranteed one-on-one reformation. Rest assured. We’ll correct his problems.”
Zheng Yan nodded, hardened her heart and turned her gaze away. She asked, “Where do I hand in the tuition?”
“No rush. You wait a little longer. Our school has a policy. You pay only when the reformation has been a success. If it’s not a success, you don’t pay.”
“Certainly. Certainly.” Zheng Yan nodded her head over and over. She took out a pack of Mt Hongta Cigarettes from her bag and pressed it into the hands of the yellow-toothed man, “I’ll leave everything to you… It’s all in your hands.”
How do you make someone compliant in a short amount of time?
And what method of torture inflicts sufficient pain yet leaves no obvious injury?
The most perfect choice of all is the electric shock.
When the small door closed shut behind him, Qin Mu had no conception of the type of torture he was about to face. He naively believed that this was simply a sealed-off school, and the teachers would be no different to those outside.
But this idea was rapidly shattered by the first wave of electric current that pierced through his brain.
The electric current that entered from his temples coursed through his entire body. Like the sharpest file, it violently raked the insides of his flesh and ground the insides of his bones. Mere seconds were enough to reduce him to a convulsing body of tears.
He was tied to a metal hospital bed. His head, his arms and his feet were secured by straps so he couldn’t move. A mouthguard was forced between his teeth, and he could only make muffled “mm…mm…” noises. The “specialist doctor”, dressed in a white coat, was fiddling with the power switches. He said offhandedly, “No rush. Ten seconds per round. We’ll start with three rounds, and go from there.”
In those 30 seconds, seventeen-year-old Qin Mu tasted the agony of what it meant to wish for death.
After the electric shocks, the white-coated man removed the mouthguard from his mouth and spoke to him with a cheery smile, “I’m going to ask you a few questions now. Think carefully before you answer. If you answer poorly, there’ll be punishment. Do you understand?”
His entire body was drenched in cold sweat. Trembling all over, Qin Mu nodded, submitting to the terror of the electric shock.
The white-coated man hit play on the voice recorder set on one side and asked, “Do you know why you were sent here?”
Qin Mu tried his best to work out the answer the man wanted, “Because I am sick.”
“What sickness do you have?”
“Mental sickness.” He saw the look of dissatisfaction on the face of the white-coated man and added in a panic, “Sickness of homosexuality.”
“What else? Have you also been disrespectful to your parents, been disobedient?”
“… Yes.”
“Do you want to stay here and be reformed?”
Qin Mu saw the look of warning in the white-coated man’s eyes, hesitated for a second, and then said with tears in his eyes, “I do.”
Satisfied, the white-coated man pressed stop and handed the voice recorder to the assistant. The assistant then sent the voice recording to his parents. Zheng Yan played the recording over and over, listening to it again and again. She was so happy she cried. And then handed over the tuition fee of 45,000 with a profound sense of gratitude.
Her son was finally going to be saved; he would be sick no longer.
Oh, how much she loved him. She was willing to give up everything for his sake, even give up her entire fortune, she was willing.
Qin Mu almost fell while he rolled off the metal bed. His legs were shaking as his knees dropped to the floor.
What awaited him was his brand-new life of reformation and correction.
The first two days, he was locked inside a small, windowless room at the end of the corridor. He was given only one meal each day. Five senior students took turns reciting the “school rules” to him. They said a line, he would repeat a line, or else he was hit. The cane in the hands of the “teacher” was long and thick, and tore open skin and flesh when used with force.
There were forty school rules in total. Students were not allowed to speak to each other for more than 10 seconds, the door was not allowed to be shut when using the toilet, they were not allowed to speak with any negative emotions, they were not allowed to be distracted when studying, they were not allowed to mention wanting to leave when meeting their parents, and so on. The school also had a points-based reward and punishment system. Violations deducted points, reporting violations added points, and any scores below 60 resulted in punishment via electric shocks.
On the third day, having memorised the school rules, Qin Mu was allocated to dorm 213. It was a room of eight; his bed was number 1607, the lower bunk. The young man who had a face of pimples slept in the lower bunk next to him.
Every day, the students had to get up at 6:30 and get ready within ten minutes. They had to fold their quilts into neat tofu-shaped blocks and then run for an hour on the school grounds. Then, it was reflection class. Each student took turns to self-criticise, and if their criticism was not thorough enough, they were sent to do frog jumps across the school. Next, was peer criticism session. They had to find faults in each other and report them, pointing out any misconduct in the student’s daily behaviour. Because reporting faults resulted in additional points, this was often the most enthusiastically participated in section of the day. Each person turning into a seasoned spy, they pounced on every mistake, threw accusations of “disobedience” around, and publicly exposed all who “harboured ill-will towards teachers”. Then, it was time for everyone to observe the “bad students” being punished, reinforcing fear through making an example of them.
In the afternoon was Chinese classics class. Repeating after the teacher, they recited in that affected ‘classical’ tone, “When my parents call me, I will answer them right away. When they ask me to do something, I will do it quickly. When my parents instruct me, I will listen respectfully. When my parents reproach me, I will obey and accept their scolding*…” Then, they separated into groups. There was the internet addiction group, the gambling addiction group, the academic encouragement group, the filial devotion* group, and so on. However, Qin Mu’s situation was a special case, and he was given one-on-one guidance. Qin Mu’s “guidance teacher” was the yellow-toothed man who had driven the van.
He made Qin Mu take off his shirt, stand with his naked torso in front of a mirror, and brandished the cane as he interrogated Qin Mu. He struck at the slightest sign of hesitation.
“Are you a man or a woman?”
Qin Mu replied, “A man.”
“Do you like men or do you like women?”
“Women.”
“Men like women. Women like men. This is as it should be. You are perverted. Your mind is sick. You made a mistake. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Say it!”
“I made a mistake. I am sick. I like women.”
“Say it again!”
“I made a mistake. I am sick. I like women!”
In that daily hour, this exchange was repeated relentlessly. From shouting it through his tears to mechanically repeating it in numbness, it became a conditioned reflex in Qin Mu.
At night, there was evening class. Each person wrote a diary entry of their student life, and then placed it in the letter box in their classroom. The class monitor would then hand them over to the teacher. The teacher chose a few that were written well and passed them on to the parents as proof of the success of reformation.
Everywhere he went were surveilling eyes, there was no one he could trust. After being reported several times, Qin Mu learnt to hide all his emotions, fearfully following the teacher’s instructions to be a compliant student.
After a month at this school, he saw with his own eyes a student jump off from a building. The building was only two-storey high, and so the student didn’t actually die when he fell. The school, being afraid of making a big deal of the incident and then attracting negative press, didn’t call an ambulance. Only when the blood pouring from his head refused to stop did the school finally send him off to the hospital. The student never came back after*.
Qin Mu leaned over the railing and peered below. He heard someone beside him say softly, “He’s free. It’s not so bad.”
Stunned, he paused for a moment. And then he turned and saw in the dull, lifeless eyes of the pimpled youth the same look that was given to him on the day he arrived.
Only now did he understand.
It was pity.
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Translator’s note:
1. This is taken from the first chapter of the 17th-century text Standards for being a Good Pupil and Child. It is aimed at teaching Confucian values to children. The original Chinese text is written in easy-to-memorise triplet verses. I have taken the 2005 translation made by Pure Land Books as found via Google.
2. Filial devotion, or Xiao, is one of the core values of traditional (and modern) Chinese culture. It is heavily Confucian in nature. Sometimes I have translated “Xiao” as “respect for parents”; however, this does not capture the full import of the word. The excerpt they recited in classics class begins to paint the strict hierarchical relation that filial devotion is based on.
3. Like all the social commentary in this novel, the author borrowed from real-life incidents. Correction or reform schools in China are not only used in the traditional sense as a correctional facility for juvenile criminals, but also open for parents to send their children who experience problems such as internet or gaming addiction. Incidents of suicide, sexual abuse, physical abuse and solitary confinement, as outlined in this chapter, still happen to real children til this very day in 2025.