Chapter 25: The Parent-Teacher Conference and a Zombie’s Musings

For any working professional, a two-hour lunch break in the middle of the day is a truly civilized amenity.

Yet, the thought of waking from a nap on a Friday afternoon, simply shutting down one’s computer, and walking out the door, evokes a sense of rare, delightful freedom.

Zhang Qingwei certainly shared this sentiment, which explained his excellent mood at that moment.

“I’ll be heading off now, sis.”

“Alright, see you next week.”

Having quietly bid farewell to Director Qi, who was yawning beside him, he turned off his screen, retrieved his satchel from the locker, and, taking care not to disturb his still-sleeping colleagues, gently pushed open the door and slipped out.

Having routinely changed out of his work attire and neatly folded his uniform into his bag, he noted the ample time remaining on his phone.

Stepping out through the ground floor entrance marked the conclusion of his work week.

With Minor Heat (TL Note: One of the 24 solar terms in the traditional Chinese calendar, usually around early July, signifying the beginning of the hottest period) rapidly approaching, the weather outside had grown progressively warmer, prompting Zhang Qingwei to ponder when he should swap out his bedding and mention it to Jin Shiling.

‘The air conditioner needs cleaning before we start using it again. The refrigerant added last year should still suffice for this year.’

‘The two water barrels at home… I’ll get them filled tomorrow.’

‘And…’

Zhang Qingwei murmured softly to himself, meticulously jotting down every task that came to mind in his phone’s memo app.

With only two people now living at home, the list of things he needed to consider had significantly expanded; previously, his mother had largely managed these household minutiae, but now the responsibility naturally rested on his shoulders.

The subway at this hour was almost deserted, allowing him the rare luxury of sitting comfortably and watching the green lights on the overhead station display illuminate, one after another, all the way to the final stop.

Though he knew it was childish, the thought that most people were still at work filled him with an involuntary, almost illicit pleasure—a feeling akin to slacking off at his desk while his supervisors were engrossed in a meeting.

‘Everyone wants to strike down the ‘work thief,’ yet everyone secretly yearns to *be* the ‘work thief.’ And right now, I am that work thief!’

Nevertheless, despite leaving earlier than most, he had no idea when he would actually return home today.

This afternoon, he was scheduled to attend Jin Shiling’s parent-teacher conference, a type of event so distant in his memory that he could scarcely recall anything related to it—much like how he could no longer quickly and accurately name all nine of his college roommates.

‘Forget it. He was merely Jin Shiling’s last-minute stand-in anyway. He’d just find a seat at the back, blend in like a block of wood, and there was no need to overthink it.’

‘…’

Glancing down at his casual attire, Zhang Qingwei hesitated for a moment before reaching into the satchel at his side.

****

Half an hour later, Zhang Qingwei, having changed back into his work uniform, reappeared at the subway exit.

As he straightened his shirt, he pulled off his ID badge and tucked it into his satchel.

‘It’s probably better to be dressed a bit more formally after all,’ he mused.

Although his suit jacket was still in the wardrobe, he decided against it; wearing something like that would only make people mistake him for an insurance salesman or a real estate agent.

After ordering an iced latte and grabbing two extra packets of sugar from the convenience store, he carried his coffee and gazed towards the school gate not far away.

With twenty minutes remaining until the parent-teacher conference began, parents were already steadily making their way into the school grounds.

Some appeared to be in their forties, others around his father’s age.

Some were impeccably dressed in suits, as if attending an international summit, while others were so uninhibited that they almost resembled the Fire Cloud Evil God (TL Note: A villain from Stephen Chow’s movie ‘Kung Fu Hustle,’ known for his disheveled, eccentric appearance) in their extreme casualness.

Upon entering the campus with the other parents, Zhang Qingwei did not follow the crowd directly to the academic building.

Instead, he took a moment to wander around the school grounds.

He passed by the school gate every day, and could glimpse inside through the windows, but this was genuinely his first time stepping onto the premises himself, and he couldn’t help but feel a certain novelty.

Around ten years ago, this very spot was nothing more than a vast expanse of wasteland, cordoned off by a wall.

When he was a child, the elderly residents nearby would forbid children from playing there, often scaring them with tales of snakes lurking within.

At the time, some speculated it would become a shopping mall, others apartment buildings, but no one ever imagined a school would be built here—let alone a high school boasting an underground swimming pool and an array of modern facilities with top-notch hardware.

With ten minutes remaining until the conference, Zhang Qingwei entered Jin Shiling’s classroom.

In his hazy recollections, he vaguely remembered that students were usually dismissed early on parent-teacher conference days, so he was momentarily taken aback when he spotted Jin Shiling already there.

“Brother, over here.”

Following her gesture, Zhang Qingwei located his seat and settled down.

Besides Jin Shiling, he noticed a rather tall boy in the classroom, immediately deducing that both students had stayed behind to assist the teacher.

His face, not yet thirty, certainly stood out in the classroom.

While one seemingly outgoing older woman initiated a brief chat with him, most others merely cast curious glances his way.

After waiting a little longer, a man with a neat hairstyle—or perhaps a ‘wise’ hairstyle, or more plainly, a bald man—entered the classroom carrying several documents.

It was once said that every complete student life invariably featured a bald teacher.

“Distinguished parents, good afternoon. I am Chen Jianwen, the homeroom teacher for Class 7, Grade 1.

First and foremost, I extend my heartfelt gratitude to all of you for taking time out of your busy schedules to attend today’s parent-teacher conference.

As we all know, a child’s growth is inextricably linked to the concerted efforts of both family and school, and this conference serves as a crucial platform for our communication and exchange.

Today’s meeting will provide an opportunity to review your children’s academic progress and daily lives at school, as well as to discuss various educational matters.

Through this exchange, we hope to gain a deeper understanding of our children and better support their learning and development.”

Following these polite opening remarks, Teacher Chen on the podium wasted no further time on pleasantries, officially commencing the parent-teacher conference with the presentation materials at hand.

The content largely aligned with Zhang Qingwei’s expectations: an overview of the class, student academic progress, cooperation between home and school, and so forth.

For most parents, the primary focus would undoubtedly be their children’s recent grades.

He had anticipated Jin Shiling’s academic performance, but seeing the detailed scores, rankings, and other data laid out before him still provided Zhang Qingwei with a clearer and more precise understanding.

When he was in high school, his grades typically placed him in the upper-middle tier, consistently ranking between 160th and 170th among four hundred students.

This was a rather subtle ranking bracket, one where he wouldn’t be overly scrutinized by teachers nor burdened with excessive expectations—it was, in essence, his comfort zone.

Jin Shiling’s various academic results, however, truly placed her among the top students in the entire grade, consistently securing a spot within the top thirty.

Consequently, when discussing the division into streams for the second year of high school, Teacher Chen specifically highlighted her and several other academically outstanding students.

When the recent teaching content of the school was mentioned, Zhang Qingwei, like many other parents, could only sit in his chair, feigning comprehension.

Merely a few years after graduation, he had already returned nearly half of his high school knowledge to the school.

How much more so for the middle-aged individuals around him, who had spent decades in the workforce?

Zhang Qingwei could discern no other purpose for this segment beyond creating anxiety among parents, thereby compelling them to enroll their children in even more tutoring classes.

During his own school days, society recognized “art specialists” (TL Note: Students with exceptional talent in arts, who could gain admission to better schools with lower academic scores through special recruitment programs).

This status allowed them to apply to superior schools with a lower score threshold via special recruitment.

However, such provisions and benefits have long since been abolished.

To his surprise, modern parents now enroll their children in even more extracurricular interest classes, though he couldn’t quite fathom the underlying motivation.

If the sole reason for a child to engage in an activity was simply “because other children are doing it,” then it struck him as utterly humorless.

Many people blindly raced further and further down this path, striving to take two more steps even when utterly exhausted.

Yet, no one could truly confirm if the path beneath their feet was the right one, or if it genuinely suited them.

Could success truly be replicated? No one could say.

Just as Zhang Qingwei was lost in these detached musings, the subsequent topic unexpectedly caught his attention, drawing him back to the present.

It concerned the psychological well-being of students.

In their investigations into Negators (TL Note: Beings transformed by negative emotions or external stressors, often associated with supernatural abilities or threats), scholars had reached a conclusion: emotionally delicate and sensitive young people, particularly during adolescence, were more susceptible to transforming into Negators due to environmental and psychological influences.

Taking last year’s domestic data as an example, nearly seven out of ten individuals who became Negators were students who had not yet formally entered society, with junior and senior high school students being especially vulnerable.

Consequently, focusing on the mental health of young people has gradually become an enduring hot topic in recent years.

Unfortunately, under the increasing pressures of exam-oriented education and contemporary society, related initiatives have not been smoothly implemented.

In some areas, empty slogans and excessive measures have even exacerbated mental health issues among the youth.

If Negators were likened to a disease, then significant progress had been made in treatment thanks to numerous policy initiatives.

However, the task of preventing the illness remained a long and arduous journey.

As recent cases played out on the screen, Zhang Qingwei even recognized his own handiwork.

Although the identities of the individuals and schools were obscured, he could still discern from the relevant timings and certain descriptive details that the case referred to the middle school student who had attempted to jump from the school rooftop not long ago.

The relentless rhetoric about the numerous harms Negators inflicted upon society and the detrimental effects on individuals’ lives flowed into his ears.

Yet, these conclusions struck Zhang Qingwei as somewhat hollow, mere superficial reproductions.

The true reality of it, he had personally verified and experienced firsthand as Black Mirror.

Negators posed a severe safety threat to ordinary people around them.

They were incommunicable, possessed an extremely strong desire to attack, and lacked effective countermeasures.

For most, a Negator was a sudden, unpredictable natural disaster, making it easy to imagine people’s attitudes towards those afflicted.

Even so, he had still placed the key to disaster and self-destruction into that girl’s hand.

If becoming a Negator meant the end of one’s life, then for that girl, not transforming into a Negator would have only led to a cruel demise, plummeting from the rooftop that very night to become a broken mess.

From Black Mirror’s perspective, becoming a Negator was the girl’s only means of survival.

Only by transforming could she unleash the pent-up emotions she had suppressed for so long, utterly shattering a situation that she, by herself, could never reverse.

As for the weighty responsibility of saving that girl, he would leave it to the Magical Girls (TL Note: A common trope in Japanese anime/manga, referring to young girls with magical powers who fight evil), those who lived in idealism and believed their efforts alone could make the world a better place.

Teacher Chen on stage spoke at length, outlining two main areas where parents could contribute: first, by paying closer attention to their children’s physical and mental development, and second, by striving to create a positive home environment to safeguard their children’s psychological well-being.

The school, too, would regularly offer mental health courses and open corresponding channels for student consultation.

It certainly sounded promising, yet Zhang Qingwei recalled that his own teachers had uttered similar words during his school days.

However, these so-called mental health courses were typically scheduled close to the end of the semester, and even then, these already infrequent classes had a high probability of being usurped by core subjects, much like physical education.

The school’s psychological counseling rooms often existed in name only, so he harbored no great hopes for their effectiveness.

After the teacher-led content concluded, the meeting transitioned to a segment for parents to speak and ask questions.

During this quarter-hour, Zhang Qingwei gained a close-up view of the indescribably complex psychological states of adults.

The moment he saw a middle-aged man in business attire beside him rise, beginning with, “I’m not one of those ‘chicken parenting’ (TL Note: A Chinese term, ‘ji wa,’ referring to overly anxious parents who push their children relentlessly for academic and extracurricular success) parents. Academically, getting into a 985 university (TL Note: Refers to a list of elite universities in China) is enough; that will ensure she has certain competitive capital in the future…”, Zhang Qingwei’s mind switched to standby mode.

He blocked out the rest of the man’s speech while taking another gulp of his coffee.

By the time he snapped back to attention, parents in the classroom had begun to depart one after another after a round of applause.

He had intended to leave with the flow of people, but the homeroom teacher called him over.

“Hello, you must be Jin Shiling’s parent, correct?”

Seeing the hand extended towards him, Zhang Qingwei immediately reached out to shake the homeroom teacher’s hand, forcing himself to display as amiable an expression as possible.

“Hello, Teacher Chen. I’m her older brother. It’s truly a pleasure to meet you today. My sister occasionally mentions you at home, saying you’re very patient in class and teach exceptionally well.”

The ability to casually conjure such insincere pleasantries was one of the few essential adult skills he had mastered.

“Thank you for the kind words, Mr. Zhang. Jin Shiling is an excellent student in class.

Not only is she academically outstanding, but her overall conduct is also commendable, and she has always been a well-liked vice-class monitor.

As I have the opportunity to meet you today, I’d like to hear if you have any suggestions regarding her behavior at home or our teaching arrangements.

Please feel free to mention anything if you require assistance.”

‘Assistance…’ Zhang Qingwei thought. ‘Ah, it’s likely because she knows about their family situation that she’s speaking this way.’

Playing along with her implication, Zhang Qingwei continued with a feigned air of concern.

“It’s like this, Teacher Chen. I know my sister’s academic performance is excellent, but the pressure of high school studies is quite intense these days.

She studies quite late every night after returning home.

I genuinely hope she can find a balance in her study pace and time management.

She has a rather strong personality, and I’m somewhat worried she might demand too much of herself, leading to excessive stress.”

“That’s perfectly normal. The pace of learning in high school changes significantly, and pressure is inevitable.

I also recommend finding a balance between studying and rest, and I hope you can pay more attention to her psychological state at home and help her de-stress.

We at school will also strive to provide support, offering guidance on study methods and psychological counseling.

Jin Shiling is a good child with immense potential, and working together, we can certainly help her navigate these three years of study successfully and achieve excellent results in the college entrance examination.”

After exchanging a few more innocuous pleasantries and contact information, Zhang Qingwei finally grabbed his satchel and escaped the classroom.

The moment he stepped out, he saw Jin Shiling standing by the door, smiling and waving goodbye to the other boy from their class.

Noticing him, Jin Shiling’s smile instantly diminished, though perhaps out of consideration for the public setting and the many eyes upon them, she still maintained a semblance of decorum for his sake.

“Today was tough, Brother. Let’s go.”

Just from this glance, it was difficult to reconcile the amiable and beautiful girl before him with the person at home who ignored him daily, treating him as if he were invisible.

“Mm, let’s go get dinner.”

The siblings walked side by side, leaving the school, then found a Chinese fast-food restaurant nearby.

While Zhang Qingwei was still scrutinizing the menu on his phone, calculating the cost-effectiveness of various set meals, Jin Shiling, seated opposite him, had already ordered her food.

Placing her phone on the table where both could see it, she then pulled out a worksheet and two pens from her backpack and began writing, oblivious to her surroundings.

Jin Shiling’s reaction was not difficult for Zhang Qingwei to interpret: it meant “she’s paying for this meal” and “don’t bother her unless it’s important.”

Though Zhang Qingwei felt a pang of confusion, he didn’t delve deeper.

Taking her phone, he added a relatively inexpensive rice dish to the order before returning the phone to the table and sliding it back to her.

Once the order was placed, their respective dinners were quickly served by the waiter.

Both grabbed their spoons, instantly transforming into emotionless nutrient- consumption machines.

This time, it was Jin Shiling who spoke first at the dinner table.

“Why did you say those unnecessary things?”

For a moment, Zhang Qingwei wasn’t even sure if the question was directed at him.

After all, Jin Shiling hadn’t looked at him when she spoke, and her flat tone carried no discernible blame, as if she were talking to the mushrooms in her bowl.

Fortunately, Zhang Qingwei was accustomed to such treatment.

He allowed the topic to pivot to himself, shrugging indifferently.

“If I hadn’t said anything, or if I’d told the truth, wouldn’t that have made the situation even more awkward?”

“I don’t feel any pressure regarding my studies.”

“Is that so? Well, I thought saying that might make the teacher care more about you. Even good students occasionally need to show weakness to gain greater acceptance from the group. Always performing too perfectly will eventually make you an eyesore to some people.”

Evidently, this explanation did not sit well with the young girl.

She looked up, fixing Zhang Qingwei with a glare from her beautiful eyes, then picked up the drink from her set meal, vigorously sucking on the straw, only for her brow to subtly furrow.

“You need to shake it before you drink it. This particular beverage is already cloyingly sweet; it’s even worse if you don’t shake it.”

Zhang Qingwei advised, drawing from his own experience.

However, this calm and well-intentioned reminder was ill-timed.

Consequently, he received another fierce glare, and he could easily discern the emotion of “embarrassed anger” on Jin Shiling’s face.

But despite the glare, she dutifully shook the cup in her hand, visibly stirring a sweet, viscous ripple at the bottom of the drink.

Though the young girl tried to maintain her composure, the tight grip on the bottle betrayed her current mood.

Finally, she tilted her head slightly and retorted peevishly.

“Don’t impose your twisted logic on me.”

“It doesn’t matter. Whether you find it useful is your business; whether I say it is mine. After all, the homeroom teacher asked me, not you.”

“I don’t need that kind of concern.”

“Yes, yes, then you keep working hard, honor student.”

“…Tsk, annoying zombie.”

‘Zombie,’ ‘living dead,’ or ‘walking corpse’ were some of Jin Shiling’s derogatory terms for Zhang Qingwei.

Others included ‘thick-skinned and lazy,’ ’empty shell,’ all essentially used to describe what she perceived as a lifeless, spineless, emotionless, wooden-faced, mediocre, heartless individual.

Despite being equated with the elements he feared most in horror films, Zhang Qingwei found Jin Shiling more agreeable when she acted this way.

When they first met, she was like a spoiled, capricious housecat.

During an outing, she had scratched his arm several times with her nails over a few words of disagreement, leaving his arm looking like it had been mauled by a cat, covered in blood marks.

Her father had to hold her down while she cried and apologized to him for a long time.

If he had to choose between a bowl of ice cubes and an untamed cat, he would rather risk being scratched and pick the cat—though preferably without drawing blood.

If his past self had been told that such a ‘wild’ girl could transform into a refined, gentle, academically excellent good girl, he would have surely suspected the speaker was drunk.

However, that wasn’t quite right.

Jin Shiling might still be Jin Shiling; she simply presented herself as a shallow yet incredibly heavy phantom when facing others.

Zhang Qingwei actually understood part of why Jin Shiling disliked him, just as he understood why she stopped responding after he playfully called her an ‘honor student.’

Perhaps, in her eyes, he was also looking down on her, denying her, with a casual and indifferent attitude.

She wasn’t wrong to think so.

He truly didn’t agree with Jin Shiling.

He didn’t disagree with the *results* of her effort, but he couldn’t endorse the *original intention* behind that effort.

He believed Jin Shiling’s actions were a form of deception—self-deception.

And he detested nothing more than those who deceived themselves.

It was precisely for this reason that he had transformed into a demon, personally shattering a Magical Girl’s heart.