CH 25

Name:Disciplinary Code Author:Gu Yan
When Ji Yao arrived home, he sensed a heavy atmosphere in the house.

His father was tending to the goldfish in the living room, while his mother sat in silence in the dining room. Approaching mealtime, there was no aroma of food in the house. Ji Yao glanced into the kitchen and noticed cold stovetops and pans, with the spice containers untouched.

Ji Yao understood the situation, and he silently took off his shoes, hung his coat on the coat rack by the door, smoothed the collar, and made sure both sleeves were on the same horizontal line.

The atmosphere inside was stifling and heavy, but Ji Yao wasn’t surprised. Since he could remember, the household had often been in this state.

His maternal grandfather was a renowned mathematician with strict household rules. Even the movement of the children in the house was regulated. Over time, Ji Yao’s mother had developed a strict personality as well.

From Ji Yao’s earliest memories, there had been a set of “rules” in the house.

For instance, towels had to be folded into thirds before hanging; toothbrushes had to be placed with the bristles facing up and on the right side; toothpaste couldn’t be left in the cup for rinsing; the fish food bag had to be placed with the label facing inwards; the lid of the trash can always had to be covered with a dust cloth, and so on.

When Ji Yao was a child, he often got scolded for these matters. Sometimes it was because he hadn’t placed the dust cloth perfectly flat over the garbage, and other times it was because he had left his books and stationery on the table instead of putting them back on the shelf—even if he had just gone to the living room for a glass of water, he would immediately go back.

For his mother, every detail of the house had rules that needed to be followed. If someone broke a rule, it meant they didn’t pay enough attention to her, and she would become furious.

These rules were trivial and complicated, forming a unique system. They were like fine threads that entwined every corner of the house, ultimately converging onto Ji Yao. They wrapped around him gently and snugly, gradually tightening, leaving him no room to breathe.

Ji Yao’s father was an accomplished scholar and a typical patriarch who believed in the division of gender roles—men as providers, women as homemakers. He generally didn’t involve himself in the minutiae of household matters. However, not being involved didn’t mean he didn’t care. He often forgot his wife’s habits and rules, repeatedly making the same mistakes. Every time this happened, Ji Yao’s mother would become angry, accusing his father of not taking her words to heart.

Both of them were strong-willed individuals, so this fire often ended up directed at Ji Yao. As a young child, he had to step in for his father to soothe his mother, trying hard to prove that he would always heed her words.

This cycle had repeated for more than twenty years, and Ji Yao had long grown used to it.

He pretended not to notice his bickering parents, changed his shoes, entered the house, and greeted both his father and mother separately.

Ji Yao’s mother rubbed her reddened eyes, avoiding bringing up her disagreement with his father. She simply said, “We’ll have dinner a bit later today. If you’re hungry, you can have some cookies on the sofa.”

“Mom,” Ji Yao didn’t move, “you said on the phone that there was an urgent matter. What’s going on?”

His mother pursed her lips and said, “Your Uncle Li is back from out of town, and they want our family of three to have dinner together.”

Sure enough, Ji Yao thought the so-called “urgent matter” was just another excuse to deceive him, not much different from before.

Suddenly, Ji Yao remembered the partially packed suitcase, and he felt uneasy.

“Mom,” Ji Yao couldn’t help but speak softly, “does this really count as an urgent matter?”

“Your Uncle Li arranged dinner for seven o’clock,” his mother intentionally misinterpreted his meaning and pointed at the wall clock, “We’ll need to leave in about an hour.”

“I wasn’t talking about that—”

“Then what were you talking about?” His father’s voice came from the living room. Ji Yao turned to look at him, having put down the small net used for the fish tank, looking at him with a nonchalant expression.

“Go talk to your dad,” his mother said in a low voice, “don’t make him angry.”

The words Ji Yao wanted to say were cut off. He pursed his lips and didn’t say anything more, turning to head towards the living room.

His father brushed off the dust from his hands, cast a sidelong glance at Ji Yao, snorted disapprovingly, and then turned to sit on the couch.

Ji Yao quietly wiped the small fishing net dry and placed it back on the shelf next to the fish tank. In passing, he flipped the fish food bag, hiding the label behind where it couldn’t be seen.

“If your mom didn’t call you, were you not planning to come back?” His father said in an unpleasant tone.

“…No.” Ji Yao didn’t dare sit down. He obediently stood across the coffee table. “I’ve been busy lately.”

If his mother’s discipline was an impenetrable net, his father was a blunt tool. From childhood to adulthood, Ji Yao’s education, school choices, and daily life were all arranged according to his father’s wishes.

Sometimes Ji Yao felt that under this roof, he had no freedom.

He was like a beast unknowingly trapped in the mud, seeing that it was about to cross the forest, but unknowingly, it had already suffered a catastrophe.

“You’re busy, I know that,” his father took a cigarette from the pack and lit it, saying casually, “By the way, I want to talk to you about something. You’ll be graduating next year, and you should also move out of that apartment. It’s a good time to move back home. That way, you won’t have to run around all the time.”

Ji Yao’s complexion turned slightly pale.

“I didn’t agree when you moved out before, but your mom said you were busy with your studies at the time, and you were growing up. She asked me not to be too strict. I considered it, so I let you be,” his father said. “But in another half a year, when you’re done with your research project, you’ll need to officially start at the hospital. It might be inconvenient to stay with your classmates then.”

His father seemed to be discussing it, but his tone was firm, carrying a sense of superiority.

Ji Yao was all too familiar with this attitude. It meant his father had already made up his mind and was just informing him.

However, Ji Yao thought of the half-packed suitcase and summoned a bit of courage to resist for the first time in his life.

Until now, he had resisted countless times in his heart, but he had never had the courage to voice his opposition.

“…I think living outside is good,” Ji Yao said softly, “I’m grown up now, and I don’t want to burden the family.”

His father seemed surprised by his retort, widening his eyes. A hint of anger appeared on his face.

His mother hurried over from the dining room as Ji Yao spoke back. Afraid that his father would get angry and start yelling, she grabbed Ji Yao’s arm and forcefully joined the conversation.

“Alright, alright, let’s talk about this later. Let’s get ready to go out,” his mother said, turning to Ji Yao, “Your Uncle Li’s daughter is here today. She’s a graduate student at North Science University, just a year younger than you. You two should have plenty to talk about.”

So, that’s the reason for the “urgent matter,” Ji Yao thought, no wonder it was called that.

As evening approached, the sky outside darkened, making Ji Yao feel stifled.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t mind going along with his parents’ wishes to maintain a peaceful atmosphere. But at this moment, perhaps due to the pressure of his promise with Jiang Heng, Ji Yao felt the need to push back a bit.

“Mom,” Ji Yao said softly, “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to go.”

“Say that again?” His mother widened her eyes, asking.

“…I don’t want to go,” Ji Yao repeated.

His mother’s expression changed, and she stared fixedly at Ji Yao’s face. Her chest rose and fell heavily for a moment.

His father sneered and said, “Look at your good son, he’s grown wings.”

His mother couldn’t argue back. She was choked up, her gaze drifted around the room, and finally fixed on the coffee table.

“Didn’t I tell you a thousand times that you need to wet the tissue paper in the ashtray before putting the cigarette out?” His mother suddenly raised her voice.

“I did put it there!” His father retorted, not willing to be outdone, “Why are you so nitpicky?”

“That’s tea on there!” His mother couldn’t accept it. “I told you a million times, tea won’t do, use clean water!”

That piece of tissue that wasn’t dampened with clean water seemed to become the last straw that broke the camel’s back. Her emotions suddenly broke down, and she stomped her feet twice in anger.

“You’ve never taken my words to heart! Neither of you ever listens to me!” His mother covered her face, sobbing, “I shouldn’t have married you, Ji Kangyuan! Look at you, you never remember what I say, even if I argue a million times, you’re both useless! All I wanted was to live a peaceful life like a normal person, to walk through life calmly without any storms or waves! Have I offended anyone? Are my demands too much!”

She emphasized the word “normal,” and Ji Yao could hear that she wasn’t just scolding his father but also venting her frustration at him.

They both knew each other’s sensitive areas, but neither had the courage to be the first to say that sentence. It was as if, if that topic wasn’t brought up, they could avoid facing that reality.

Ji Yao suddenly felt suffocated.

He felt powerless and pained, urgently needing to escape this net. He would do anything to avoid this situation.

Based on his experience of over twenty years, if he compromised now, he could escape all the pain.

“…Mom, please don’t cry,” Ji Yao said, “I’ll go to the dinner, is that okay?”

His mother’s eyes were bloodshot, and Ji Yao didn’t want to see the expressions on his parents’ faces. He lowered his head silently, taking a step back.

“I’ll change my clothes again,” he said.

Without waiting for a response from his parents, he turned back into his room, closing the door behind him.

He leaned against the door, covering his eyes with his hand.

Ji Yao’s mind was in chaos. He didn’t want to meet the so-called “Uncle Li’s daughter,” yet he couldn’t resist his parents. After a while, he exhaled heavily, took out his phone from his pocket, and dialed Jiang Heng’s number.

“The phone you dialed is currently in a call. Please try again later—”

The number he usually reached easily didn’t connect this time. Ji Yao paused for a moment, and although he was about to redial, he suddenly remembered what Jiang Heng had said before they parted.

“Come home early.” Jiang Heng had said.

The word “home” seemed to burn Ji Yao’s heart. He instinctively disconnected the call and turned off the phone, avoiding the situation.