Chapter 32

Du Ruo couldn’t help worrying: Jing Ming was going to treat the whole debate like a joke, just half-ass his way through it.
Or rather,
She was absolutely certain he would. Taking this seriously? Not a chance.
She had no idea what she’d done to set him off this time.
If she had to guess: it was just his bad mood. He hated being on the negative side, hated the topic "The wealthy are more prone to evil," so he decided to flake completely.
Sure enough, the day before the match, while everyone else put in one last round of mock debate, he skipped out with the excuse of being “too busy.”
Li Wei tried to reassure her: “Don’t worry, I’ll go over all the main points with him later.”
Du Ruo had serious doubts that Li Wei could rein Jing Ming in. As if.
But there was nothing she could do, luck of the draw, landing a drama king like Jing Ming on her team.
All she could do was sigh and remind herself: “Friendship first, competition second.”
The day of the debate, her nerves were shot.
The school held it in the grand auditorium, and thanks to all the hype, the crowd was wild, standing-room only, buzzing with excitement.
There were teachers and student council judges, and the rest of the seats packed out with students watching, a sea of heads stretching out beneath the stage.
Du Ruo’s legs nearly went out from under her as she walked onstage.
All those eyes, no way could she not be nervous.
Once the teams were seated, the host got things rolling, launching into a spirited intro and introducing the debaters one by one. The applause echoed endlessly, so loud it made Du Ruo’s brain buzz.
She tensed up even more.
But one glance at Jing Ming beside her, still lounging, giving off that trademark air of being too cool for absolutely anything.
How narcissistic did you have to be, to act superior in every situation? Du Ruo genuinely could not understand his vibe.
To be honest, she’d prepared pretty thoroughly; her real anxiety was all about Jing Ming. Still, no matter how ready you are, surrounded by a crowd like this, you’re bound to shake. She had no capacity left to worry about him.
Across the bright divide of the stage, the other team sat ramrod-straight, poised for action, all serious determination and confidence. Du Ruo had no bandwidth left to study them; she focused every ounce of herself on her own performance.
With the intros done, the host announced the topic:
“Which breeds more evil, poverty or wealth? The Physics Department will argue pro: Poverty breeds more evil. The Mechanical and Electrical Engineering Department takes the con: Wealth breeds more evil.
Alright, quiet in the hall, please.
Let the debate begin!”
“First, could the pro side’s first speaker please take the floor! The first round is statement speeches.”
The Physics first speaker was a guy, glasses, scrawny, but packed a punch.
He spoke fast and loud, punctuating his sentences with gestures, launching into a rapid-fire speech, listing one example after another to prove “Poverty breeds despair, it tears people down, and it’s what sends them walking the path of crime.”
When he finished, it was the con side’s turn.
Qiu Yuchen was visibly shaking, but once she stood, nothing showed, she looked completely composed.
In contrast to her opponent, Qiu Yuchen spoke steadily, with a softness that made the audience lean in to listen. She did great, clearly laying out their side’s view: that poverty can build resilience, while wealth can erode the soul.
Both teams handled their first round smoothly, hitting all their points.
“Thank you, both sides, for the outstanding opening statements. Perfect job. Now,” the host raised his voice, “let’s hear from both teams’ second speakers! This round is open debate. Speakers, take the floor!”
Open debate: direct attacks, verbal sparring, no holding back.
Du Ruo stood, mentally and physically wound tight as a coil, clutching the edge of the desk to steady her trembling hands as her whole body shook with nerves.
The other team’s second debater was a girl, clearly a late addition. It was her first time onstage, and she was flustered, face beet red, voice loud and rushed, her pitch rising and falling: “Obviously… poverty breeds more crime! Just look at all the cases out there, muggings! Prostitution! Phone scams! All of it because of poverty! No money, no security. That’s what drives people to crime! Are rich people out there robbing for cash or selling themselves? Of course not! Survival comes first, and if you can’t even guarantee that, well, what do you think people are gonna do? They’ll break the law!”
Her momentum surged, sweeping up the crowd; a smattering of applause broke out from the seats below.
Du Ruo's mind hiccupped for half a second, but she quickly recovered, she'd drilled for this exact moment during debate practice.
She took a deep breath, raised her voice just a shade, and delivered each word with conviction:
“I think my opponent is both underestimating, and overestimating, human nature.”
“Who says poverty inevitably breeds crime? Look around, there must be plenty of students here from tough backgrounds, or who’ve faced hardship. Did those students turn to crime?”
The other team's second speaker blinked, clearly thrown off by Du Ruo’s sudden emotional appeal.
Du Ruo forced herself to stay calm, her words ringing clear: “They didn’t.”
“In fact, they've worked even harder than most, clawed their way into the best universities. To me, people are resilient, defiant, we’re the one species in nature that refuses to be defeated by circumstance. It’s because they resent poverty, refuse to succumb, that they keep pushing their own limits, step by step. That’s how our ancestors broke out of old, grim environments and forged new worlds. Only by staring into the abyss do we find a way to rise! That burning drive to survive, people born into comfort can’t even imagine it.”
Her tone didn’t crush or bluster, but instead moved the room, a speech full of fire and substance, earning another round of applause.
The opposing second speaker was shaky to begin with; now, flustered by the high-stakes pressure, her mind blanked. Her teammate hurriedly scribbled a note and tried to pass it over.
But Du Ruo didn’t give her the chance, she dove straight into her next point:
“You say, poor people resort to selling their bodies. Sure, maybe it’s less likely for the rich, but let’s be real, rich people go out soliciting, keeping mistresses, working every backdoor rule in the book. And as for theft? The rich may not rob openly, but they’re experts at snatching, squeezing workers for every penny, exploiting loopholes to siphon off public wealth!”
She finished her rebuttal, then grounded her stance once more,
“That’s why I say, you underestimate the humanity of the poor, and overestimate that of the rich.”
And then, for good measure, she neatly labeled her opponent,
“Your entire sense of human worth is pegged to money, more is virtue, less is vice. I’m sorry, but that kind of thinking just doesn’t hold up.”
Her sequence was sharp and seamless, point by point, another burst of applause thundered out.
Completely thrown, the other girl blurted out in panic, “But the poor are just more naturally depraved!, ” She cut herself off, realizing the instant the words escaped that she’d gone too far. Silence crashed down.
Du Ruo didn’t bother replying. Her job was done. She left the rest for the judges and audience to decide.
The round felt like a full-on battle of wits, and she’d played her part. She sat back, a sense of deep satisfaction settling in.
The host announced, “Round two of free debate is over! Both sides have made their points clear…”
Du Ruo realized her palms were slick with sweat. When she finally sat down, she noticed her legs were like jelly. Next to her, Jing Ming spun his pen idly, giving her a sidelong look and arching an eyebrow: “Not bad.”
“…”
Maybe she’d gone too hard in the debate because now her mind went completely blank. For once, she had nothing to say.
The adrenaline was still churning; her body couldn’t stop shaking.
She didn’t need his sarcastic validation. What she needed was for him to step up.
But then,
A terrible realization hit her, her teeth chattering: in the chaos, she hadn’t noticed, Jing Ming's opponent in the next round was a member of the actual Debate Club!
Oh no,
The other team had saved their strongest player for the third round. Meanwhile, they hadn't factored that little trick into their plan at all.
This is bad. We’re about to lose our last defense.
She stared out at the dark, buzzing crowd. For a moment, it felt like someone hit the mute button on the world.
Jing Ming glanced at her, expecting her to fire back, only to find her frozen, tongue-tied, nothing like the fierce, sharp-tongued girl from a few minutes ago.
“So nervous you can’t even talk?” he scoffed, bored.
She stayed silent.
The host took the mic: round three, free debate, begins.
“Relax.” Jing Ming didn’t wait for her to answer. The teasing vanished from his face, his eyes suddenly bright and intent. He said,
“I’ll make sure you win.”
Du Ruo’s heart jumped. But he’d already looked away, rising to his feet.
Tall and commanding, he blocked the light in front of her.
Round three began.
Her nerves were even worse now.
The opposing third speaker, male, Debate Club’s most promising rookie, was a prodigy at every debate trick in the book.
Right off the bat, he smoothly restated his team’s second point, concise, powerful. Then, he launched a rapid-fire attack on Du Ruo’s arguments.
Du Ruo had no choice but to rely on Jing Ming. She couldn’t even stand up, her legs rubbery.
But what did Jing Ming do? With zero prep ahead of time, he didn’t bother laying out their own side’s case. Instead, he just listened, patiently, passively, as the other guy unleashed a machine-gun barrage of points.
He watched the opponent calmly, sometimes lowering his eyes in thought, but never interrupting, never answering.
Gradually, the tide turned in favor of the other team.
The third speaker, clearly prepared, summarized last round and rolled right into his monologue. Soon, he quoted an old saying:
“Everyone’s heard 'desperate evil', doesn’t that prove poverty naturally breeds crime? Why do we say 'poor and vicious', not 'rich and vicious'? It's obvious! Even our ancestors knew: poverty breeds wickedness. The poor will rob, steal, traffic humans, even kill! Tell me, how often do we hear of such things?”
He was really building momentum now, pressing hard,
“So, can you give me an answer? Why, in all our culture, do we have phrases like 'poor and vicious', but not 'rich and vicious'? Tell me plainly!”
He’d cornered the debate into one neat question.
Clever move!
Du Ruo squeezed her palms, sweat pooling. Every eye in the hall was glued to Jing Ming, waiting to watch him choke.
But the next instant, Jing Ming just smiled and said,
“Looks like your literary knowledge needs some brushing up, my friend. The 'poor' in 'poor and vicious' doesn't mean poverty or desperation, it means 'extremely'. If you want to talk proverbs, you might as well bring up things like ‘poverty dulls ambition’ or ‘the end of the road’ instead.”
Du Ruo blinked, and the crowd erupted in laughter.
The other speaker blushed scarlet, scrambling to save face: “Okay, fine, you win! But you know what I mean.”
Jing Ming didn’t press the humiliation: “Back to the topic. Since my opponent seems to love proverbs...”
He drawled, tossing it right back:
“There’s a proverb about the rich, too, ‘the rich are callous’. Why not ask yourself why it’s not ‘the poor are callous’?”
Now that’s what you call textbook counterattack, pinpoint and merciless.
The whole audience sat stunned for a full beat, no one expected the supposedly weaker side to find the opening, and strike with such cold, ruthless precision.
Like a little kid flailing their fists, only for the adult to calmly press a hand to his forehead and hold him at bay.
Around the hall, the students burst into applause and a few even whooped.
The other speaker was left speechless, hoisted by his own petard.
Jing Ming didn’t let up. He moved straight into his next argument, his voice clear and cool, steady but absolutely commanding:
“I don’t deny anything you said. But here’s our view: 'The poor commit petty crimes; the rich commit grand ones.' Once someone has wealth, their desire for more can spiral out of control. Take embezzlement, bribery, manipulating the economy ... At the societal level, aren’t crimes bred by riches more harmful, more far-reaching?”
He fought cunning with cunning, landing a blow while his opponent was still reeling.
Just like that, the tables turned!
Another wave of applause rolled over the crowd.
Now the other side was genuinely stuck. Give a straight answer and it was game over. Still, he wasn’t some rookie; even as sweat beaded his brow, he gathered himself and tried to redirect:
“Impressive, nice job shifting the argument!”
Jing Ming didn’t dignify that with a word. He tapped the table with his pen, sharp eyes locked on his rival.
Opponent: “Let’s get back to the actual topic, ‘Which breeds more crime, poverty or wealth?’ What does 'more likely' actually mean? It’s about tendency, urgency. Unfortunately, you just shifted the question. This isn’t about which crimes have greater effect, but rather, which happens more easily.”
“So, let’s get real: is a starving person more likely to steal, or is a well-off person more likely to break the law for profit?”
Yet more applause!
Now the crowd was electrified;
Back-and-forth, point for point, now this was real debate!
But Du Ruo was close to a panic attack, barely able to breathe, her heart about to explode.
Qiu Yuchen grabbed her hand, shaking all over!
How do we break this deadlock?
“My opponent, answer the question!” The other third speaker knew he was winning now, pushing even harder.
Du Ruo fought to steady her trembling, glancing at Jing Ming.
Jing Ming stared at his rival, silent for a long while, not because he was cornered, but because he was waiting, letting the noise die down.
She saw it then, at the very moment everyone else assumed things were lost, he showed not a hint of defeat. On the contrary, his eyes flashed like steel, a mocking ghost of a smile at his lips, the kind of expression that meant he was about to crush everything in his path.
As the chatter in the hall faded, he leaned forward slightly, both hands braced against the table, eyes unwavering as he declared with absolute certainty:
“You’re the one twisting things. Who told you that evil is just about stealing or killing for money?”
The moment his words landed, silence swept through the room. Faces turned, exchanging bewildered glances, evil isn’t theft or murder?
Every eye locked onto him, hanging on his next words.
“No, wealth breeds evil even more easily. From a sociological perspective, those with the most resources should bear the greatest social responsibility. But in reality? Wealth itself is a kind of evil, it puts people above others, lets them look down on everyone; it breeds arrogance, pride, indifference, cruelty, bullying. The powerful trample over anyone beneath their class, dismiss their dignity, their humanity, even their very lives.”
He tossed his pen onto the table, slipped both hands into his pockets, his tall, lean figure thrown into sharp relief by the stage lights.
“Forget the law for a moment, just look at human nature. Isn’t this evil too? Maybe an even broader, easier, and more insidious evil?”
For a split second, the hall was frozen, then applause thundered through the auditorium.
Now that’s how you break the mold!
Du Ruo stared in disbelief. He actually dared to say that out loud?
To win, he’d argued a point he obviously didn’t even believe. Honestly, impressive.
As applause roared on, the opposing third debater lost all composure, turning to teammates for help, but clearly, no one had seen this angle coming in their prep.
The four of them huddled for a crisis meeting, but none could come up with a way out.
And so the third round came to a close.
Jing Ming flopped lazily into his seat, slouching like he owned the place. He spun his pen idly between his fingers, like nothing at all had happened.
Du Ruo looked at him and suddenly saw a stranger: cool, incisive, his logic razor-sharp, mind moving at breathtaking speed.
But what floored her most was his overwhelming self-confidence, come what may, he was unshakable, as if born with a command of the room.
Sitting at the same table, yet the gap was miles wide.
Is this what reality looks like?
She realized then that even after a week’s prep, her own performance had been... just okay.
He kept spinning that pen, then glanced over at her. Her cheeks were flushed bright red, and her fingers on the table still trembled a little. A fleeting smile flashed in his eyes, with that familiar, smug little air returning:
“Impressive!”
“...I’m not nervous.” She pulled herself together and shot back in a low voice, “You’re one to talk, didn’t even prep earlier. Nearly gave me a heart attack!”
“Oh, now you’re fierce. Who was so nervous they couldn’t get a word out just now?”
She pouted, face burning. “Whatever, you’re the one who barely prepared beforehand.”
He watched her for a moment, then broke into a grin: “What, you were worried about me?”
Heat exploded across Du Ruo’s face. This guy’s ego had no limits, seriously?
She cleared her throat: “I was afraid you’d make us lose!”
He was in a good mood, so he let it slide, casually turning back to watch the last round’s closing statements.
And when Li Wei delivered a flawless conclusion, the debate was over.
With the votes from the judges and the audience tallied, the negative team won an overwhelming victory.
The host beamed, “Today’s winning team is, the negative! Congratulations to the four from the School of Mechanical Engineering! Qiu Yuchen, Du Ruo, Jing Ming, Li Wei, congratulations, you did it!”
Applause exploded throughout the hall.
Nerves forgotten, Qiu Yuchen sprang from her chair, hugging Du Ruo and bouncing up and down like a kid. Li Wei slung his arm around Jing Ming, shaking him hard with excitement.
They’d won.
What a rush!
Soon, the crowd started to thin out and everyone headed backstage.
Li Wei was still riding high, dragging Jing Ming and Qiu Yuchen off to dissect every brilliant moment.
Qiu Yuchen handed out the bottles of water she’d brought along. Jing Ming took a few gulps. While the others dived into feverish post-game analysis, bonded for life by the heat of competition, Du Ruo had already slipped away.
Too many people during the exit, they’d gotten separated amid the chaos.
He grabbed another water bottle, twisted the cap open, and went looking for Du Ruo.
Backstage was a blur of people and shadows, but then he spotted Du Ruo standing alone in a corner.
He strode right over, just about to call out, then stopped cold.
Li Qinghe was in that corner too.
Du Ruo had her back to him, deep in conversation with Li Qinghe. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her cheeks still flushed with victory, and smiled: “Thanks so much, Senior. We couldn’t have done it without your help. Really, thank you.”
Jing Ming didn’t say a word. The open bottle in his hand was recapped with a twist, and he turned and walked away.