【17】Unprovoked malice will not be taken lightly just because it comes from a stranger
That highly productive group discussion seemed to mark a new beginning. Ever since that "conversation between friends," and the discovery that Tan Xu wasn't just some lazy, lazy playboy, but a serious student, Liang Zhiyao's prejudice against him had shifted considerably. From then on, she'd occasionally receive messages from him on her phone, inviting her to study in the library. She'd been a regular at the library before, but after selling her car, getting home required a school bus and then a six- or seven-minute walk. She'd always felt uneasy walking down the deserted street at night. Now that she had a ride, the corner of the living room, once devoid of quiet and privacy, paled in comparison. But for several days in a row, she'd been home near ten o'clock, which inevitably earned her some nagging from Ye Xin. "What have you been doing lately? You're always coming home so late," she said, her gossipy face etched. "A date? Don't worry, I just broke up, and I have good news to share." Liang Zhiyao was at a loss for words: "I just found studying in the library more efficient than at home—how about going together tomorrow?" The other party immediately pouted: "No, no, no—the library is so sleepy, I'm afraid I'll just pass out." After Tan Xu sent that carefully worded email, Jeffrey suddenly became positive, his attitude completely reversed, and he replied within half an hour. First, he excused his absence from the discussion by citing rugby practice, then contradicted his previous claim of "no weekends," stating that he could definitely make time on his days off. In short, he was determined to contribute to the group project. The reply was so earnest and sincere that, if Liang Zhiyao hadn't known the other party was a repeat offender, he would have almost believed that he had indeed been forced to miss Tuesday's discussion due to unforeseen circumstances. Two days later, they finally had a three-person meeting. Americans, perhaps also accustomed to adapting to the situation, immediately dropped their usual nonchalant demeanor and obediently accepted the division of labor when they realized they weren't the tolerant, low-key, and easily bullied Asians they'd imagined. While their professional expertise was questionable, they were at least capable of handling some of the work. As for the 50 LinkedIn private messages, a week later, only one response arrived, a success rate even more dismal than Tan Xu's, at 2%. The reply came from a senior who had graduated from the same university's computer science department two years prior. The gist of the message was that there weren't many regular internships open recently, so they suggested she wait until early next year to apply for a more prestigious summer internship, which they could then help with internal referrals. Unable to tell whether this response was good news or bad, Liang Zhiyao curiously clicked on the other person's profile—the last time she sent a private message, she had been trying to fully learn how to effectively spread the word about scumbags...
That highly efficient group discussion seemed to be a new beginning. Ever since that "conversation between friends", Liang Zhiyao discovered that the other party was not only not a playboy who was just idling around, but was even a top scorer. His prejudice against Tan Xu had changed a lot.
Since then, she would receive messages from him on her phone from time to time, inviting her to study in the library together.
She used to be a frequent visitor to the library, but after selling her car, she had to take a school bus and then walk for six or seven minutes to get home. Every time she walked on the deserted road at night, she was always nervous.
Now that he had a ride, the corner of the living room, which had never had any peace or privacy, immediately paled in comparison. He had been coming home near ten o'clock for several days in a row, and Ye Xin couldn't help but nag him.
"What have you been doing lately? You're always coming home so late," she said with a gossipy look on her face. "Are you on a date? Don't worry, I just broke up. If I have any good news, I need to share it immediately."
Liang Zhiyao didn't know whether to laugh or cry: "I just found that studying in the library is more efficient than studying at home - how about going together tomorrow?"
The other person immediately pursed his lips: "No, no, no—the library is too sleepy, I'm afraid I'll just pass out."
After Tan Xu sent his carefully worded email, Jeffrey suddenly became proactive, his attitude undergoing a complete about-face. He responded within half an hour. He first excused his absence from the discussion by citing rugby practice, then contradicted his previous claim of "no weekends," stating that he could definitely make time on his weekends. In short, he was determined to contribute to the group project.
The reply was earnest and sincere. If Liang Zhiyao hadn't known that the other party was a repeat offender, he would almost have believed that he had been forced to miss Tuesday's discussion due to unexpected circumstances.
Two days later, they finally had a three-person meeting.
Americans, perhaps also accustomed to adapting to the situation, realized that they weren't the tolerant, low-key, and easily bullied Asians they'd imagined, so they immediately dropped their nonchalant demeanor and obediently accepted the division of labor. While their professional level was still questionable, they were at least willing to take on some of the work.
As for the 50 private messages on LinkedIn, only one response was received a week later, and the success rate was 2%, which was even worse than Tan Xu’s.
The person who replied to her was a senior who graduated from the computer science department of the same university two years ago. The gist of the message was that there were no regular internship recruitments recently, and he suggested that she wait until early next year to apply for a more valuable summer internship, so that he could help with internal referrals.
After receiving such a reply, Liang Zhiyao couldn't tell whether it was good news or bad news. Curious, he clicked on the other party's homepage. The last time he sent a private message, he didn't have much time to study it carefully in order to fully learn the scumbag's strategy of casting a wide net. Now it happened that he had the opportunity to carefully read the other party's academic background and professional resume.
The timeline shows that Leo, a senior, was promoted from Software Engineer 1 to Software Engineer 2 within 8 months of joining the company, and became Senior two months ago. His promotion speed is comparable to that of a rocket. In short, he must be considered a true expert.
Rome wasn't built in a day. She immediately replied to thank him and said that even if there was no suitable position, if it was convenient, she would like to spend half an hour to ask for advice on career planning.
My attitude was extremely sincere and I was very humble, but I never received a second reply from then on.
Liang Zhiyao felt a little frustrated, but he soon felt relieved when he shared the statistical data with Tan Xu during another self-study session.
"It's nice to get a reply, but some people who don't want to change jobs don't bother to check LinkedIn and may not even read your private message."
Having said that, as long as we take action, we can't help but expect good results. Now that our hopes are dashed, we can't help but feel disappointed. This is human nature.
"Let's not talk about this anymore," he suddenly changed the subject. "The gossip you're concerned about has come to fruition. Do you want to hear it?"
"Huh?" She didn't react.
"Cheng Yan and Liu Siyan—those two people are indeed together." He took out his phone and showed her the intimate photos on Instagram.
"Oh, I see..." She nodded in sudden realization, and couldn't help but sigh when she thought about how Ye Xin had no interest in dating recently.
He observed her expression calmly and asked coldly, "Why, is your roommate sad?"
"She's a little depressed..." She replied naturally, and only then realized what was happening. She glared at him in frustration, "Are you trying to trick me?"
For some reason, he smiled brightly: "That's not hard to guess. Last time at Liu Siyan's birthday party, she was the only one who showed up with you."
"Okay," she said helplessly, "it's your own guess anyway, so just don't tell the person involved."
This little episode passed quickly, and Liang Zhiyao didn't even need to tell his roommates the bad news, because Ye Xin herself was an Instagram friend of Liu Siyan and saw the intimate photo at the first time.
However, perhaps because she had received enough precautions before and had sufficient psychological expectations, she was calmer than she thought.
"The guy I've been dating recently is pretty good," Ye Xin said. "It just so happens that I haven't made up my mind to actively pursue other men yet, so it's better for them to get together sooner rather than later so I don't have to worry about it."
Liang Zhiyao always felt that although Ye Xin said it lightly, he was actually forcing a smile.
"Do you regret it? If you had taken action right after the birthday party, the outcome might have been different."
However, if Ye Xin had really made up her mind to do so at that time, she would have been even more conflicted about whether to tell the other party everything she had discovered on the second floor of the villa, so that the other party would think carefully before jumping into the fire pit.
"Maybe a little," she said, honestly this time. "But I know myself well enough. They moved so fast they didn't give me much of a chance from the start. If I were to go back then, I probably would have done nothing."
Liang Zhiyao couldn't tell whether he felt more regretful or relieved about this.
But she soon no longer had the energy to worry about her roommate's love life.
As soon as I entered the house at noon that day, I heard Ye Xin shouting "I'm so mad", and her voice was several decibels louder than the time when she complained about straight male cancer.
After entering, she calmly asked, "Why? Which male guest has offended Miss Ye this time?"
But unexpectedly, the beautiful woman shook her head and said, "I won't die of anger over a man - I'm going to die of anger over you."
"I?"
"Look at this," she handed over the phone. The screen showed the latest submission posted by "North American International Students' Complaints" a few hours ago. The title was "A female international student in her third year of CS at W School owed a million yuan in gambling debts and was facing the risk of defaulting on her mortgage and being unable to graduate." It was extremely sensational.
She knew Ye Xin had been following this blogger since freshman year, and sometimes she'd tell her about the most outrageous submissions. From scumbag cheating men to bizarre roommates, from encountering outrageous partners on dating apps to high school bullying—in short, the uglier and darker the story, the more dramatic it was, the more likes, comments, and reposts it would garner.
She quickly read the main text of the submission and found that it was basically the same version of the rumor she heard from passers-by in the elevator that day, but the details were exaggerated. The gist was that this female classmate was a typical rich second-generation international student two years ago, with average grades and often showing off her wealth on WeChat Moments. However, because she got involved in gambling, she spent all the tuition and living expenses given by her family and owed millions in debt.
The article said her parents were so angry they abandoned her, leaving her to fend for herself. She even tried to borrow money from her boyfriend to continue gambling, but thankfully he came to his senses and broke up in time.
"Although the entire article doesn't mention any specific names, it does mention the school, department, and the pinyin abbreviation of your name. For someone you know, it's almost like telling your passport number, right?" Ye Xin rolled her eyes in anger.
After a while, he gritted his teeth and said, "No, who made this up? It's too wicked. I know your family situation, but your classmates in the major don't know the truth. They just saw that you suddenly sold your car and went to work, so they might believe this submission. Zhiyao, did you offend someone?"
Faced with this level of online violence, Liang Zhiyao felt a little overwhelmed for the first time - the number of likes, comments and reposts for that post was already quite high, and continued to rise with each refresh.
She opened the comment section and found that in addition to passers-by who were just watching the show, she could occasionally see a few people who claimed to be students from their school.
They said they knew who the submission was about, and contributed a lot of inexplicable "scraps" here and there.
Some even directly revealed her full name and English name in their replies, and proudly said that if you want to know what the heroine in the submission looks like, you can go to LinkedIn and search for the school plus her name to see her profile picture.
Liang Zhiyao nervously opened LinkedIn and found that there were indeed several strangers' browsing records. She quickly changed her privacy settings to hide her profile page. But she soon realized that this was a waste of effort - someone had already taken a screenshot of the profile picture and posted it in the comments section of the post.
"I always feel like something's wrong," Ye Xin added. "It's only been a few hours since this submission was posted, and several people from our school have already popped up in the comments section sharing their experiences. They're surfing so fast, aren't they? Maybe the person who spread the rumor about you used a fake account, or asked someone they know to post it."
"What should I do? Dispel the rumor?" She bit her lip subconsciously and didn't even realize it was bleeding.
"It's best not to post comments or posts yourself," Ye Xin shook her head. "Many people don't care about the truth at all. When they see the person involved, they might indiscriminately curse you online. I encountered something similar in junior high school. I was young and had a hard time dealing with it. I was hounded and cursed by a group of people on Tieba. I almost wanted to jump off a building."
"What should we do then?"
"Let me help you post a rumor-busting post in the comment section first," Ye Xin said, "and then get a few friends to like it and try to push it up."
She nodded. "I'll send a private message to the blogger to explain the situation and see if I can ask him to remove the post."
However, as the afternoon class time approached, their actions did not cause any stir - Ye Xin's comment to refute the rumor fell on deaf ears, and the private message sent by Liang Zhiyao was always shown as "unread".
While his roommate was still trying to analyze the culprit, Liang Zhiyao found that he was unable to think rationally at all.
It turns out that as a victim of violence, she is so powerless - just seeing those malicious words makes her almost feel cold in her limbs and unable to think calmly. Even though she knows that the comments of strangers are insignificant, she can't help but read them desperately like she has obsessive-compulsive disorder.
The intense uneasiness and anxiety brought on symptoms similar to somatization, even causing her chest to feel numb and shortness of breath.
I used to comfort myself by saying, "Those who understand me don't need explanations, and those who need explanations don't understand me." However, the reality is that unwarranted malice doesn't become less serious just because it comes from strangers. Instead, the sheer volume of the attack and the lack of any chance to defend oneself make it even more despairing.
After a long time, she finally managed to calm down the strange feeling of suffocation and said to Ye Xin, "I have a rough guess about who spread the rumor, but I can't be sure and I have no evidence."
This submission clearly portrays Han Xingzhou as a perfect victim. Just like analyzing the murderer of a murder case requires looking at who benefits from the death of the deceased, the distortion of facts will also produce corresponding beneficiaries. It's the same principle.
However, when she thought of the two people she met in the coffee shop that day, she intuitively felt that this matter might also be related to Lin Jiayue.
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