Volume Two: Portrait - Chapter 3: Fear

Today was the first class of criminal procedural law. The lecturer for this class, Professor Song Yaoyang, had just returned from an exchange visit to Japan, so the class had been postponed until now.

Fang Mu was still sitting in the back row of the classroom. Although Professor Song had delayed the class for over a month, he was not in a hurry to start the lecture. Instead, he talked extensively about Japan's economic development and comfortable living, as well as "stories that must be told" with several Japanese criminal procedural law experts. Just as he was getting into it, a student knocked on the door and walked in. At that moment, Professor Song, feeling self-satisfied, graciously waved the student in.

The student walked briskly to the back row and sat down next to Fang Mu, nodding friendly at him.

Fang Mu recognized him as Meng Fanzhe, a graduate student majoring in civil law.

In a university classroom, being late was quite common, and most of the time, students would be forgiven by the teacher. What slightly puzzled Fang Mu was the overly relieved expression on Meng Fanzhe's face. It was as if he had just passed a severe test.

Professor Song finally finished his "thoughts on Japan" report. He picked up the attendance register and with a friendly wink at the students, said, "Before the lecture, let's get to know each other."

The sleepy students suddenly perked up. This was a mandatory class, and no one wanted to miss out on the credits. As Professor Song called out each name, the classroom echoed with responses of "present" from all corners. Fang Mu unintentionally glanced at Meng Fanzhe and was surprised.

The relaxed Meng Fanzhe from earlier now looked nervous, as if facing a formidable enemy. His hands were tightly gripping the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white, and his eyes were fixed on Professor Song, biting his lip as if the professor was not calling out names but rather firing bullets from his mouth.

What was wrong with him?

"Meng Fanzhe."

Large beads of sweat rolled down Meng Fanzhe's face. His lips moved a few times, but no sound came out. Professor Song scanned the classroom and repeated, "Meng Fanzhe."

Several familiar classmates called out to him in a low voice, but Meng Fanzhe seemed not to hear them, staring fixedly at Professor Song, leaning forward, his lips half-open, as if eager to speak but unable to.

"Not coming? Skipping the first class?" Professor Song angrily took out a pen, ready to make a mark on the attendance register.

At that moment, Meng Fanzhe suddenly stood up, still unable to speak but raising his hand high.

"Oh, you're Meng Fanzhe?"

"It's me," finally, two words came out of his mouth.

"Sit down and pay more attention next time."

As if those two words had exhausted all his strength, Meng Fanzhe sat down heavily. A few people in the classroom chuckled, while more looked at him with disbelief.

It was as if Meng Fanzhe was avoiding those gazes, and he spent the whole class with his head down, taking notes, but it was evident that he was no longer as nervous as before.

What was he afraid of?

Honestly, Professor Song's lecture was quite average. During the break, while he went out to smoke, several students sneaked away (of course, none of Professor Song's graduate students dared to move). When Professor Song returned and noticed a few missing students, he was furious and called the roll again.

Fang Mu noticed that Meng Fanzhe, who had just calmed down, seemed to plunge into despair, nervousness, and resentment as the roll call approached.

Fang Mu had been quietly observing Meng Fanzhe and paying attention to the order of the roll call.

"Wang Degang."

"Present."

"Chen Liang."

"Present."

"Chu Xiaoxu."

"Present."

The next one was Meng Fanzhe.

"Meng Fanzhe."

As the word "Meng" was about to come out of Professor Song's mouth, Fang Mu suddenly patted Meng Fanzhe on the shoulder.

"Hey!"

Startled, Meng Fanzhe turned around, just as the word "Fanzhe" was pronounced.

Meng Fanzhe replied, "Present."

Without pausing, Professor Song continued down the list.

Meng Fanzhe was stunned for a moment, but his expression quickly relaxed. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked somewhat awkwardly, "What's up?"

Fang Mu thought for a moment and asked, "What time is it?"

Meng Fanzhe glanced at his watch, "It's 9:05, oh, 38 seconds," he added urgently.

Fang Mu smiled, and Meng Fanzhe's face turned red as if his secret had been exposed.

At lunch, Fang Mu ate to his heart's content and felt a bit drowsy. Looking at his watch, with less than an hour until the afternoon class, he went up to the rooftop to get some fresh air.

When he reached the rooftop, Fang Mu noticed that someone was already there.

It was Meng Fanzhe.

He was sitting on the cement edge of the rooftop, with his legs dangling casually, gazing into the distance, lost in his thoughts.

Fang Mu didn't want him to see, so he quietly turned to leave but found that Meng Fanzhe suddenly stood up.

He stood carefully on the cement edge, which was less than 20cm wide, with his toes and heels hanging outside. Meng Fanzhe stood unsteadily on the edge, arms outstretched, took a deep breath, as if he had made a big decision, and lowered his head.

Fang Mu held his breath. This was the seventh floor! What would he see if he looked down? Heads the size of buttons? Toy-like cars? Or the ground ready to pounce at any moment?

No, he couldn't shout at him. Otherwise, he would surely be frightened, and there might be a fall.

Fang Mu took the first step carefully, and the sound of his shoe soles rubbing against the sand seemed like thunder at that moment.

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Meng Fanzhe's body shook even more violently, and he was about to lose his balance!

Without thinking, Fang Mu rushed up and firmly grabbed his belt, pulling him back.

Meng Fanzhe let out a short cry and fell backward with Fang Mu onto the rooftop.

"What are you doing? Do you want to die?" Fang Mu looked at him angrily with scraped elbows.

"Yes, I'm sorry," Meng Fanzhe said, still in shock, muttering to himself.

Fang Mu looked at his pale face, helped him up, and supported him to sit on a stone bench on the rooftop, then took out a cup of water from his backpack and handed it to him.

Meng Fanzhe took several big sips and gradually calmed down.

"Thank you," he said, handing the tissue to Fang Mu after wiping the cup.

Fang Mu sat down next to him, took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one for himself, and after a moment's thought, handed one to Meng Fanzhe. He hesitated for a moment, then took it. But as soon as he took a puff, he choked and coughed.

"Do you not smoke?"

"No."

"Haha, what a waste of tobacco."

It was such a familiar saying, but it seemed like it happened a long time ago.

For some reason, Fang Mu's mood suddenly became low.

The two sat in silence, Fang Mu smoked incessantly, and Meng Fanzhe stared thoughtfully at the cigarette in his hand.

"You must think I'm crazy, right?" Meng Fanzhe finally spoke.

"Oh, why would I think that?"

Meng Fanzhe forcefully flicked the cigarette butt away, "You must think I'm not normal."

"Why would you think that?"

"Why don't you ask me what I was doing just now?"

"Oh, okay, what were you doing?" Fang Mu found it a bit amusing.

"I, heh, it's nothing, I just wanted to experience the feeling of fear." He turned to look at Fang Mu with a forced, casual smile, as if hoping Fang Mu would think he was cool.

Fang Mu smiled and lit another cigarette for himself.

Meng Fanzhe looked at Fang Mu expectantly for a long time, seemingly waiting for some words like "I see" or "You're quite boring." But Fang Mu remained silent for a while, then suddenly looked up at him and asked, "What are you afraid of?"

Meng Fanzhe opened his mouth wide, staring at Fang Mu in shock. His gaze seemed to ask, "How did you know?"

Of course, I knew. Otherwise, I wouldn't have pushed you during roll call.

When a person is afraid of something, they will show an abnormal level of attention and sensitivity to that thing. If their attention is suddenly interrupted, they can eliminate their fear of that thing in an instant. Of course, it's only for that moment.

Meng Fanzhe was probably afraid of roll call, so during roll call, he would show a "fully focused" kind of fear, the more afraid he felt, the less he could respond. When Professor Song called his name, I pushed him for a split second, shifting his attention from the roll call to me, making it natural for him to respond.

Meng Fanzhe's expression changed from surprise to dejection. He lowered his head and fell silent.

"What are you afraid of?" Meng Fanzhe raised his head, and Fang Mu saw his weak eyes. He stared at Fang Mu for a long time. Fang Mu smiled and even looked back at him casually.

Gradually, his eyes showed more trust and friendliness.

"I, " he scratched his head, "I'm a little afraid of roll call, heh, it's weird, isn't it?"

"Why?"

"I don't know." Meng Fanzhe gazed into the distance, "I don't know when it started, I just get nervous during roll call. The more nervous I get, the more I can't say that 'present.' I often stand up with a red face and a thick neck, but I can't say a word, and the whole class is watching me," he lowered his head, and his voice suddenly became lower, "many people make fun of me."

"Do you have a stutter?"

"No, do you think I have a problem speaking?"

"No."

"I'm also very strange. Why can't I say that 'present'? Sometimes, I secretly practice. I call out my own name and answer 'present,' and there's no problem at all, but during class, I still can't say it." He said in a low voice, "Give me a cigarette."

Fang Mu handed him a cigarette and lit it for him. He took a careful puff.

"Four years of college. How did you get through it?"

I found a way on my own, heh," he smiled faintly, "usually, when roll call was right before class, I pretended to be late, waited until roll call, then went in and explained the situation to the teacher after class. At that time, I was nicknamed 'The Late King.' Many teachers had a very bad impression of me, but fortunately, my grades were good."

Fang Mu smiled, showing understanding.

"One time in class, international economic law. The lecturer was terrible and relied on roll call to maintain attendance. He called the roll four times in two classes. Do you know how I felt at that time?" He took a deep breath of the cigarette and then coughed as if his heart was being torn apart.

Fang Mu patted his back to help him breathe, and when his breathing finally calmed down, Fang Mu asked, "Have you ever thought about seeing a psychologist?"

He hesitated for a moment, "I've seen one before. Why, do you think I have a mental problem?"

"No, you just have a psychological barrier. Almost everyone has a psychological barrier, just to different degrees. You're afraid of roll call, and many people are afraid of heights, elevators, sharp objects, and so on. It's not a big deal."

"Really?" Meng Fanzhe listened with doubt, but his expression became more relaxed. "So, " he curiously looked at Fang Mu, "what are you afraid of?"

Fang Mu didn't answer. He silently finished smoking a cigarette, looked at his watch, and said, "I have to go to class, let's chat next time." After that, he left the rooftop, leaving behind a slightly disappointed Meng Fanzhe.

Fear. Actually, you don't know what fear is.