Chapter 023: Verbal Sparring

After Yang Zhilin returned to the private room, Lin Yu glanced at the Mona Lisa frame on the wall with a mysterious smile, then pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

Once the call connected, he spoke softly, “Sister Liang, how is everything going?”

A melodious female voice, marked by the gentle lilt of Suzhou dialect, came through the receiver: “All the dishes are ready; they can be served at your word. But, aren’t you all drinking tonight, young master?”

Reminded by Liang Jing, the lobby manager of the Splendor Hotel, Lin Yu was startled, inwardly chiding himself for the oversight. If he failed to serve wine, it would surely be seen as poor hospitality.

After a brief silence, he replied slowly, “Didn’t I tell you, I’m not some spoiled young master. As for the drinks, arrange whatever you see fit.”

“Very well. Should I bring out the ‘85 Lafite or the ‘82 Rémy Martin XO for you, young master?” Liang Jing teased, her voice playful.

“If it’s on the house, you can bring out anything you like. But if I have to pay, just bring a few bottles of Maotai,” Lin Yu answered, at a loss for words. He felt this lobby manager was a bit too familiar for comfort.

A charming laugh drifted from the other end. “All right, it’s up to you, young master.”

“That’s enough, start serving the dishes now,” Lin Yu said, and hung up. With that, he pushed open the door and entered the Fragrant Pavilion.

At this moment, the men of the three families were drinking tea and loudly reminiscing about their youth. Hu Bin’s gaze was fixed intently on Yang Zhilin, his words tumbling out without pause.

Wang Yue’e, having shed her mink coat, was relentlessly needling Lin Yu’s mother, Wang Chunhua, hinting repeatedly that her clothing was too plain and the food on the table too meager.

In contrast, Yang Zhilin’s mother, Xia Ling, sat quietly, savoring her own cup of Tieguanyin tea, saying nothing. Yet the shadows on her face betrayed her displeasure.

The six plates of vegetarian dishes on the table remained untouched.

Witnessing his mother’s predicament, Lin Yu was filled with impotent anger. But he understood that today was a battleground without smoke or fire; everything hinged on his father’s prospects, so he kept his temper in check.

He cleared his throat and called out loudly to his father, “Dad, can we start serving the food?”

Catching his cue, Lin Tiancheng waved his hand and said, “Go ahead. Remind the servers to be careful. The Splendor Hotel is several hundred meters from here—make sure nothing gets contaminated on the way.”

After speaking, Lin Tiancheng stood up, cupped his hands together, and announced, “Xiao Yu heard that Aunt Xia especially loves the dishes made by the Hong Kong chef at the Splendor Hotel, so he took the trouble to reserve a table there. That’s why there’s been a delay in serving the food. We sincerely apologize for keeping everyone waiting.”

His words were well-chosen: on one hand, he made clear that his son was in charge of the banquet, highlighting Lin Yu’s organizational skills. On the other, he emphasized that the dishes were crafted by a Hong Kong chef, underscoring their value. Most importantly, he demonstrated the Lin family’s regard for Xia Ling—in effect, their respect for the Yang family.

Xia Ling’s husband was deputy mayor of Bincheng, and she herself ran a sizeable business; she was a woman of influence. Yet, being a woman, she couldn’t help a touch of vanity. Now, seeing the Lin family so mindful of her pride, the frosty expression she wore melted into a faint smile.

“We’ve all been friends for years—there’s no need to go to such trouble,” she said.

“It’s not something we do every day, so there’s no question of extravagance,” Wang Chunhua chimed in at just the right moment.

Wang Yue’e, who had been mocking Wang Chunhua moments earlier, suddenly looked sullen. She realized she had played right into Wang Chunhua’s hands—it was all a deliberate setup to make her lose face.

Her son, Hu Bin, noticing his mother’s embarrassment, quickly shifted gears. He looked at Lin Yu and raised his voice, “Lin Yu, you, Zhilin, and I are all from old family friends—what a coincidence that we’re classmates too. Zhilin and I topped our grade in the last term’s finals—she was first in liberal arts, I was first in science. Where did you rank? If your grades aren’t great, I can tutor you. After all, I’ve already mastered the senior year curriculum. Even if I took the college entrance exam now, getting into Tsinghua would be no problem.”

“You’re quite something,” Lin Yu replied with a faint smile, not immediately answering. He knew his grades were a weak spot; to admit them outright would reflect poorly on his father’s parenting. After all, if a man can’t even raise his own son well, how could he govern others?

Just as Lin Yu was feeling awkward, Yang Zhilin suddenly interjected, “Lin Yu does pretty well in our class. Our homeroom teacher, Ms. He Jing, praised him just the other day for being unremarkable most of the time, but occasionally showing flashes of brilliance.”

“Grades are what really matter, aren’t they? Lin Yu, how did you do?” Hu Bin pressed, his face darkening as he heard Yang Zhilin speak up for Lin Yu—as if he’d just swallowed a fly.

“In terms of grades, I’m near the bottom of my class, and of the whole liberal arts stream, actually,” Lin Yu replied with a smile.

Facing the odd looks from those around him, he continued, “But that’s not a true reflection of my abilities. It’s not that I can’t do well—I just look down on China’s exam-oriented education system, so I don’t bother to try. Look at every developed nation, see how their educational systems work. Look at the Nobel Prize winners each year—which countries do they come from? If you compare, you’ll see the grave problems in our system.”

At this, Lin Yu thought of Mo Yan, the renowned contemporary author who, in 2012, won the Nobel Prize for Literature, standing on the shoulders of Chinese literary giants like Lu Xun, Lin Yutang, Bing Xin, and Zhu Ziqing.

“You make a good point. But if you fail the college entrance exam here, you’ll find it hard to get anywhere in China—perhaps not even find a decent job. Then what? Go into business? Don’t you need education for that too?” Hu Bin retorted heatedly.

At that moment, all the adults fell silent, their gazes turning to the two young men, as if looking upon their own youth, each lost in private reflection.

“You’re quite right,” Lin Yu applauded, then added, “But you’re not me—how can you be sure I won’t get into university?”

“With your grades, it would be a miracle if you did!” Hu Bin scoffed, his expression full of mockery.

“I’ve already said, my poor grades don’t reflect my ability—I simply don’t care to try. Do you understand?” Lin Yu replied, calm and steady.

“What a joke! The biggest joke in the world. If you’re so capable, why not come first in the whole school, like I did?” Hu Bin challenged, arrogance justified—being first in the senior science class wasn’t something just anyone could achieve.

“To be first in the science class, like you? I don’t think I could manage that,” Lin Yu answered with a light laugh. “But I don’t believe I’m any worse than you.”

“If you can’t get first, then you are worse than me, aren’t you?” Hu Bin replied contemptuously.

Now the two were fully at odds, eyes locked on each other, oblivious to everyone else.

“I’m in the liberal arts class, so of course I can’t come first in science,” Lin Yu said with a smile.

“That’s pure Ah Q spirit, straight out of Lu Xun!” Hu Bin laughed.

“Whether it’s Ah Q spirit or not isn’t for you to say. How about this—let’s have a competition and see if the top science student is really better than the so-called underachiever from liberal arts?” Lin Yu proposed.

“Fine! I’ll make you admit defeat!” Hu Bin agreed eagerly, Lin Yu’s challenge striking a chord deep within him.