Reservoir Dogs chapter 58
Jiang’s Mother
At this point, Jiang Chengyuan stopped speaking. He glanced at Xiao Zhou, seeming amused, then shook his head. “Why am I telling you all this?”
Xiao Zhou clenched his fists. “I thought your father was a good judge? In the story you told, despite hurting his own sister, it highlighted his fairness and impartiality, didn’t it? A judge’s duty is to uphold justice; once he puts on the judge’s robe, he must speak only facts and law. I don’t think he did anything wrong.”
Jiang Chengyuan’s smile faded. He looked at Xiao Zhou, with no anger in his eyes at being challenged, only calmness. “You always rush to judge based on surface details, which makes you overlook the whole picture. You should be more patient.”
Xiao Zhou paused, feeling Jiang Chengyuan’s usual condescending educational demeanor. It made him instinctively want to argue back but also feel like everything he did was superfluous and futile—Jiang Chengyuan didn’t care.
To Jiang Chengyuan, perhaps all of his previous actions seemed childish, impulsive, and reckless. Xiao Zhou lacked his social experience, educational background, and meticulous thinking, more like a jumping clown unwilling to be ignored.
Xiao Zhou was momentarily speechless.
Jiang Chengyuan seemed to sense his stiffness and the subsequent emotions, hesitating for a moment before leaning towards him and touching his hand.
“Just based on the information I’ve shared with you, you’re not wrong,” Jiang Chengyuan said softly. “But you’re overlooking another layer. If I were a judge facing such a situation, I would withdraw—to avoid presiding over the trial. It’s not evasion. When a judge has a certain interest or relationship with the parties involved, there can be underlying influences that rationality alone can’t avoid. Withdrawing can prevent the trial from being in a dangerous and unreliable state, as well as prevent the verdict from being criticized. Inner fairness is important, but making that fairness visible and convincing others is even more crucial.”
“That’s the first lesson taught to all judges. But Jiang Bin didn’t do that because he had reasons that compelled him to continue this trial.”
Jiang Chengyuan’s voice was deep, explaining patiently as his hand covered his.
Xiao Zhou felt a slight burn as he looked up at Jiang Chengyuan. “What reasons?”
Jiang Chengyuan smiled and leaned closer, kissing him lightly on the lips. “I’ll tell you next time.”
Xiao Zhou was taken aback by his gesture and momentarily froze.
Even though clouds and mist shrouded the mountains, hints of daylight could still be discerned.
Leaning against the jeep’s hood, they finished a cigarette and descended the mountain.
Back at the villa, preparations for the birthday dinner were underway. The kitchen and dining room were being set up, servants bustling about, bringing out a three-layered cake.
Though it was for Jiang’s mother’s birthday, with the guest list unchanged, it remained an intimate affair rather than a lively one. Unable to finish the cake, they later distributed it among the household staff.
Hand-copying the Book of Filial Piety, Xiao Zhou tied it with a golden silk ribbon and placed it in a small wooden box as a gift for Jiang’s mother. She appeared pleasantly surprised and touched by the unexpected present.
After dinner, she led Xiao Zhou to the living room, holding a large photo album and showing him pictures.
In one photo, a young boy in overalls with chubby cheeks held a wooden pirate ship model, striking a charging pose. Pointing at the picture, Jiang’s mother chuckled, “Wasn’t he cute as a child? While other kids wanted to be scientists or doctors, he wanted to be a pirate. To him, it was the freest life on the seas, with his own ship, crew, endless adventures, and treasures.”
She gently caressed the photo of the boy, her face filled with nostalgic memories. “He held onto that dream until he was twelve. Even as he grew up, it seemed so impractical, as if sailing on the sea meant entering another world, disconnected from the realities of land.”
With a sigh, Jiang’s mother closed the album as Xiao Zhou examined the photos, trying to find traces of the man he knew today in that youthful face.
He scrutinized them earnestly, but Jiang’s mother suddenly closed the album.
Perplexed, Xiao Zhou looked up to see Jiang’s mother’s expression turning serious, “Mr. Xiao, I’d like you to honestly tell me, who are you really?”
Xiao Zhou gazed at Jiang’s mother, who no longer appeared gentle and kind but rather sharp and worldly-wise. Carefully choosing his words, he replied, “I’m not entirely sure what you mean.”
Every line on Jiang’s mother’s face turned sharp and cold. “There’s no need to pretend with me. I know everything Chengyuan said was a lie. You didn’t meet at a university lecture, and you don’t work at the Institute of Architecture.”
Xiao Zhou was shocked and after a moment, he calmed himself. “Why would you say that?”
Her voice stern, Jiang’s mother continued, “When you changed your shoes, your ankle revealed a series of numbers. I know what they represent. Once you’ve been through there, it’s a mark that stays with you for life. And at your age now, it’s impossible to be pursuing academic degrees, nor would the Institute of Architecture accept someone with a criminal record.”
Xiao Zhou instinctively pulled back his foot. “So you already know.” He paused, weighing whether to fabricate a new lie or confess. Revealing the truth would deeply hurt the elderly woman, something Jiang Chengyuan wouldn’t want. After a brief contemplation, he crafted a new narrative, meeting Jiang’s mother’s gaze with a sincere effort. “You’re right. I was once a prisoner. I made mistakes, and I met Lawyer Jiang during my appeals and incarceration. He took care of me throughout. After serving my time, we stayed together.”
Keeping it simple, partly true, less likely to slip up.
But Jiang’s mother remained unconvinced, her face still stern as she continued, “If you don’t mind, could you tell me why you were imprisoned, Mr. Xiao?”
Xiao Zhou’s expression shifted, and he honestly recounted his criminal history, including details about his family and friends—all true, hence detailed and slow, the pain of his past still raw.
After listening, Jiang’s mother’s expression softened gradually. Pausing for a moment, she said, “So you and Chengyuan are together because he helped you during your toughest times? Have you considered that this might just be a form of repayment or seeking strength? You might be confused at the moment, but when you’re capable and independent, this once sheltering relationship might not matter anymore. You’re still young and have many possibilities, but Chengyuan doesn’t have endless time to wait for you to mature and figure out yourself. When you no longer need him, you can move forward without regret, but he’ll be left alone.”
Xiao Zhou was taken aback and couldn’t help but smile. Indeed, all mothers are biased, endlessly glorifying, spoiling, and cherishing their children. When would he ever abandon Chengyuan? How could Chengyuan become so vulnerable? But in a mother’s eyes, perhaps Chengyuan had always been that little boy dreaming of ruling the seas with his pirate ship.
Even though they were discussing such serious matters, Xiao Zhou couldn’t help but smile a little.
Frowning disapprovingly, Jiang’s mother looked at him, and Xiao Zhou quickly restrained his expression, then earnestly replied, “I don’t know what the future holds. I can’t promise something so distant. But at least for now, I want to be with him. It’s not because he can offer me benefits or out of simple gratitude. Human emotions are complex—gratitude might be a part of it, but certainly not all of it. Repayment can take many forms, but deciding who you want to spend your life with requires careful consideration.”
Perhaps Xiao Zhou’s words were somewhat sincere, and even this small amount of sincerity could move people. Jiang’s mother seemed somewhat persuaded by him.
She asked Xiao Zhou to sit for a while and went upstairs herself. She returned moments later with an exquisitely carved small box in her hand.
Sitting back down, she opened the box to reveal a radiant ruby ring the size of a pigeon’s egg.
She said, “Actually, I don’t care who you are, whether you have a university degree or a respectable profession. I only care whether you like him, whether you can make him happy. He’s had a tough time these years alone, and I hope he finds happiness. I don’t even care who gives him this happiness or whether it’s normal or reasonable…” Jiang’s mother’s emotions were somewhat stirred, tears rolling down her cheeks, her voice choked with emotion.
Xiao Zhou suddenly felt that she was displaying a kind of trauma that had been torn and healed. Perhaps this old woman wasn’t as peaceful and serene as she had previously seemed, detached from worldly affairs.
She took out the ruby ring and put it on Xiao Zhou’s hand. “This has been passed down through generations in our family. It’s not very valuable, but it’s a blessing from the previous generation to the young.”
Xiao Zhou suddenly felt uneasy about accepting this precious gift obtained through deception. “Since I lied to you before, why would you still trust me again after just a few words? And give me such a precious gift?”
Jiang’s mother wiped away her tears, smiled, and said, “Your words played a part, but not entirely. I’m not that foolish yet. It’s because Chengyuan lied to me for you and made a promise. He has never lied to me or disappointed me. I don’t trust you, but I trust him.”
With that, she reopened the album and picked out the photo they had just been looking at for a long time, handing it to Xiao Zhou. “Since you like it so much, I’ll give you this photo as well, as a memento.”
Xiao Zhou took the photo. The child in it was indeed fair and cute, very likable, even though his actions were childish, there was already a remarkable handsomeness in his brows and eyes.
Looking at the album that had just been reopened, Xiao Zhou suddenly thought that there were so many photos of Jiang’s mother from the past in it, but not even one with Jiang’s father, let alone a wedding photo.