Chapter 18 – Scholarship

This month, Qin Zhan had covered more shifts than he had in all previous months combined, yet his employer still refused to advance his wages.

He knew that if he asked Du Li, she would undoubtedly find various reasons to provide him with financial assistance. However, he felt he already owed her too much, especially since Bai Ling’s current situation was partly his fault.

Fortunately, the school cafeteria was affordable, and his card still had enough funds for a few more meals. Barring any unexpected delays, the National Scholarship should arrive today.

Sitting in a corner of the cafeteria, Qin Zhan finished his meal and began cleaning up. He noticed Bai Ling sitting at a table near the noodle station, and soon someone sat down across from her.

Bai Ling’s expression was initially sour, but Zhou Liao’s coaxing soon softened her mood, turning her cheeks pink. Zhou Liao was a serial philanderer; Qin Zhan had known from his surveillance that Zhou Liao currently had multiple “Ling Yang” types in his life, though Ling Yang was the one he was currently pursuing most aggressively.

By the time he returned the plate and turned around, Bai Ling and Zhou Liao had almost made up, and she was no longer avoiding him.

His classes ended at 4:30 PM that day. Even after the final bell rang, he hadn’t received any new income notifications, only incessant loan repayment reminders and his phone about to explode from calls.

When he knocked on the office door, only his counselor was inside, sitting with his legs crossed, scrolling through short videos. The counselor’s expression flickered subtly when he saw Qin Zhan enter.

“Ah, Qin Zhan? What is it?” The counselor locked his phone.

“I wanted to ask about the disbursement dates for the National Scholarship and the Need-Based Grant.”

The counselor pushed up his glasses. “The scholarship should have been disbursed today. Hasn’t it arrived yet?”

“No.”

“Then it might be a bit delayed…”

“What about the Need-Based Grant? It’s already been postponed.”

The counselor coughed awkwardly twice. “The Need-Based Grant… well, there were a lot of applicants this time. You might not have been selected.”

Qin Zhan paused, his eyes fixing the counselor with a dark, predatory gaze.

“I know you’ve applied every year, and your family’s situation is certainly challenging. But this year, the number of applicants was overwhelming, and the selection was based strictly on the official criteria.” The Counselor sniffed. “The National Scholarship is worth 8,000 yuan, and it will be credited to your account today. You can treat yourself to a nice meal tonight.”

“How was the selection process conducted this year?” Qin Zhan asked, ignoring the Counselor’s last remark.

“The detailed criteria are confidential, known only to the higher authorities. But I assure you, the process was entirely fair and impartial,” the Counselor said, his eyes shifting evasively.

“Can I see the list of recipients?”

“To protect student privacy, that’s not possible.”

Qin Zhan narrowed his eyes, and the Counselor adjusted his posture. “You can always apply again next time. It’s only just 5,000 yuan, after all.”

Just 5,000 yuan—four dismissive words that hung heavily in the air.

“You should leave now. My meeting is about to start.”

Qin Zhan didn’t move. For the first time, he lowered his head. “I really need this money.”

Taken aback by Qin Zhan’s unexpected reaction, the Counselor paused briefly. “There’s nothing I can do.”

With that, he picked up the folder on his desk and walked toward the office door, brushing past Qin Zhan with a sigh. “Go home, Qin Zhan.”

……

After leaving the office, Qin Zhan ran into Bai Ling at the corner of the corridor. It was clear she had come to this building to wait for Zhou Liao.

“Qin Zhan, are you just getting out of class?”

Qin Zhan stopped and nodded.

“It’s been getting colder lately. Make sure to dress warmly—lots of people are catching colds.”

“Okay.”

Qin Zhan was always taciturn, a habit Bai Ling was used to. She was about to continue speaking when her peripheral vision caught Zhou Liao emerging from another classroom. Many students had skipped this general elective, leaving only a few to trickle out.

When their eyes met, Qin Zhan saw Zhou Liao freeze for a moment before a smirk crept across his lips.

“What a coincidence.”

Qin Zhan remained silent.

“Finally out! Hold this for me while I go to the restroom,” Bai Ling said, handing her bag to Zhou Liao.

“Sure.”

As soon as Bai Ling left, Qin Zhan lifted his gaze to meet Zhou Liao’s. His phone buzzed incessantly in his pocket. “The National Scholarship… did you take it?”

It was common for students from well-off families to claim scholarships meant for those with financial need. But given Qin Zhan’s difficult circumstances and good grades, the school had always ensured his share was granted. This sudden disruption, combined with the counselor’s attitude, made it easy to deduce Zhou Liao’s involvement.

“How can you call it stealing?” Zhou Liao feigned innocence, stepping close to Qin Zhan and whispering into his ear, “Remember you owe me money?”

Qin Zhan’s eyes darkened instantly.

“I’m giving you the best treatment. If you can’t afford it, I’ll deduct it from your National Scholarship. Seems fair, right?”

Before he could finish speaking, a hand suddenly clamped around his neck. A violent force slammed the back of his head against the tiled wall behind him, pinning him against it.

Qin Zhan’s grip was brutal, Zhou Liao’s face flushed crimson, veins bulging in his neck. Qin Zhan loomed over him like a murderous King of Hell risen from the Netherworld, radiating an aura of infernal darkness and savagery.

“What good will five thousand yuan do you?”

Zhou Liao gasped for air, yet a cruel smile twisted his lips. He gripped Qin Zhan’s arm. “It’s not even enough… for a pair of shoes. What? You expect… me to help you for free?”

Qin Zhan tightened his grip. His phone buzzed incessantly in his pocket—a relentless barrage of loan reminders. He stared at Zhou Liao, the crimson intent behind the impenetrable black fog in his eyes promising bloodshed.

“Qin Zhan… you have the guts… to choke me to death?” Zhou Liao, his head spinning and vision blurring from the choke, his brain flashing white, continued to taunt him.

“You think I wouldn’t?” Qin Zhan growled.

“Qin Zhan! What are you doing?!” Bai Ling’s voice, panicked and shrill, cut through the corridor like a knife. Her urgent cry drew the attention of nearby students, who began to gather in small groups to stare.

Qin Zhan abruptly released his grip, his strength failing him. Zhou Liao slumped against the wall, bending over and coughing violently, a ring of red marks circling his neck where the pressure of Qin Zhan’s fingers had left their mark.

“Are you alright, Zhou Liao?” Bai Ling patted Zhou Liao’s back, her gaze shifting nervously to the boy behind her. She had never seen Qin Zhan like this before. Even though others perceived him as gloomy, withdrawn, and even frightening, Bai Ling had always believed it was because they hadn’t gotten to know him personally.

This was the first time she had felt genuine fear, sensing the raw, murderous intent radiating from him in that moment.

“Qin Zhan… why did you choke him?” Bai Ling’s voice trembled. She shuddered to think what might have happened to Zhou Liao in that deserted hallway if she hadn’t witnessed it.

“I’m fine… I’m okay, baby… just a little spat… a disagreement,” Zhou Liao said, pushing himself up against the wall. He touched his still-throbbing neck, finding it difficult to speak. Even now, his breathing felt constricted, as if his air supply had been cut off.

“What were you arguing about?” Bai Ling asked, suspicion creeping into her tone.

“Medical expenses,” Zhou Liao answered candidly.

Understanding dawned on Bai Ling. So Zhou Liao hadn’t been helping Qin Zhan entirely for free. She knew she didn’t have enough influence to persuade Zhou Liao to assist Qin Zhan for free. Qin Zhan certainly couldn’t repay the debt, but Bai Ling couldn’t fathom why he would resort to violence. He had always been meticulous about settling every account, unwilling to owe anyone even a penny, even going to great lengths to repay her mother.

“Qin Zhan, no matter what, you shouldn’t have resorted to violence. If you’re short on cash, you can always tell me or…”

Bai Ling saw the boy was about to speak, but Zhou Liao interrupted him with a kiss on her cheek and an arm around her waist. “Baby, don’t talk to him anymore… Could you go get me some ointment? The infirmary is on the second floor.”

“Why can’t we go together?”

“I still have something to say to Qin Zhan.”

Bai Ling stood rooted to the spot, clearly afraid they’d start fighting again. “We’ll go together.”

Qin Zhan watched Zhou Liao’s performance of feigned weakness, his gaze sweeping between the two. The veins on his hanging arm bulged, a testament to his recent surge of anger.

“It won’t come to that, right?” Zhou Liao grinned at Qin Zhan. “You wouldn’t want to show this side of yourself to your student’s sister, would you?”

Qin Zhan narrowed his eyes, his facial muscles rigid as if frozen.

Bai Ling glanced at Qin Zhan, her expression indescribable. She seemed about to say something, but hesitated, unsure how to begin. After repeating her instructions several times, she reluctantly turned and went downstairs.

“Don’t get too worked up. You can’t outplay me,” Zhou Liao said, watching Bai Ling’s figure disappear down the stairwell. Leaning against the wall, his fingers idly stroked the cigarette pack in his pocket, his voice still slightly hoarse. “If there weren’t people around, do you think I’d hesitate to fight you?”

“Is there anything you wouldn’t dare do?”

Zhou Liao sneered, leaning in close to Qin Zhan and staring intensely into his eyes. His anger had been fully ignited, his untamed gaze now only earning him deeper loathing—exactly like that person.

“Why else would I seek you out in alleys or private rooms? I wouldn’t want to tarnish my reputation because of you.”

Qin Zhan’s eyes, cold and venomous as a snake’s, bore into him. The tension between them was palpable, even though Qin Zhan radiated the cold aura of a corpse. The situation was now a hair trigger away from exploding.

Unfortunately, Zhou Liao’s innate sense of superiority made him incapable of tolerating being trampled by an insignificant ant.

“I know you need to repay a ten-thousand-yuan loan. Your scholarships total thirteen thousand, leaving three thousand for living expenses. But I just happened to take five thousand from you,” Zhou Liao pressed closer, his lips brushing Qin Zhan’s ear, deliberately provoking him. “Now you can’t repay the loan and you have no money for food. Can’t you see I’m doing this on purpose?”

Sensing the slight tremor of anger in the man beside him, Zhou Liao patted Qin Zhan’s shoulder. “I’ll remember you grabbing me earlier. We have plenty of time ahead of us.”

“There won’t be another chance.”

“What?” Zhou Liao turned his head sharply.

Qin Zhan remained rooted to the spot, his eyelids lifting slightly. Even as sunlight streamed through the window and bathed him in its glow, his eyes saw only the eerie, abandoned factory—a bottomless, shadowy abyss.

“I said, there won’t be another chance soon.”