Chapter 17
In the end, Jin Chao didn’t get an answer from Jiang Mu. She didn’t make another sound, and it seemed like she had fallen asleep.
The next morning, Jin Chao worried that Jiang Mu might not be able to leave for school on time, so he made sure to open the roller door before dawn. It was probably the earliest Speed Auto Repair Shop had ever opened.
However, even though he could hear Jiang Mu’s phone alarm go off three times from outside the garage, there was still no movement inside. When the alarm rang for the fourth time, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He put down what he was holding and knocked on the rest room door. The alarm was still going off inside, so he opened the door, pulled aside the curtain, and asked, “Aren’t you going to school?”
What he saw was the young woman with her whole head buried under her pillow, with the phone left on the bedside table, still ringing alone.
Jin Chao stepped forward, turned off the alarm, and looked down at Jiang Mu, who was wrapped up tightly in the blanket. He finally understood why her WeChat name, “Hard to Wake Up,” was such an accurate reflection of her self-awareness.
After living in Tonggang for the first two years with Jin Qiang, Jin Chao had developed a light sleep. Any little noise would wake him up, so he rarely had trouble getting out of bed. He couldn’t understand how someone could sleep like this.
He pulled the pillow away and said, “Get up.”
There was no response. It was just like when she was little and going to kindergarten. Every morning, Jiang Yinghan would have to pull her up, she would close her eyes and lean against Jiang Yinghan’s arms until Jiang Yinghan stuffed her little arms and calves into her clothes, then carried her to the bathroom. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, her eyes would still be closed.
Back then, she was small, so he just put her clothes on her, but now that she was older, he couldn’t dress her, could he?
He bent down to tap her, but as soon as his hand touched her, she threw a tantrum, swatting her arm and muttering, “Don’t disturb me.”
“…”
Jin Chao withdrew his hand, straightened up, and coldly dropped a sentence, “If you don’t come out in five minutes, think of an excuse for being late.”
After saying that, he left. Jiang Mu’s consciousness snapped back, and she suddenly jumped out of bed, scrambling to find her phone.
As soon as Jin Chao stepped out of the lounge room, he heard a “thud” from inside, wondering where she had bumped into again. Then there was a loud racket, like a house being torn apart.
Although Jiang Mu had tried her best to hurry, it still took her a full ten minutes to come out. Her school uniform zipper was open, one shoe was tied, and the other was loose. She was holding her backpack in one hand and rushed straight to Jin Chao, who was crouched down working and asked, “I don’t know the way. How do I get to the high school?”
Jin Chao twisted the knob and poured oil into a car’s engine. Without lifting his head, he told her, “The No. 6 bus across the street, get off at Yangbei Station.”
Jiang Mu grabbed her backpack and rushed toward the street across from the car workshop. Jin Chao slowly turned his gaze to her. She pretended to run a couple of steps, then turned back with a side glance and said, “I’m going to be late.”
Jin Chao remained crouched, unmoving, “And then what?”
Jiang Mu’s eyes darted to the motorcycle that had been left behind by Tie Gongji last night. She moved a couple of steps toward it, leaning against the backseat of the motorcycle.
Jin Chao twisted the car’s knob, the sky still dim and gray, the street wrapped in the unique coolness of the early morning tinged with the chill of early autumn. His profile, in the half-light, looked sharp and cold, his voice calm and distant, “Why would you rather be hungry and sleep for ten more minutes?”
“I can’t be lack of sleep.”
Jin Chao glanced at her sideways, and Jiang Mu continued, “The bed is kind of dependent on me.”
“…”
Jin Chao straightened up, grabbed a bag from the chair behind him, and handed it to her. Jiang Mu was stunned for a moment before accepting the breakfast. She saw Jin Chao start the motorcycle and tell her, “Zip up your jacket.”
Jiang Mu, holding her backpack in one hand and the breakfast in the other, looked around to find a place to put her things. Jin Chao glanced at her, then turned around, yanked at her unzipped school uniform, and pulled her close.
Jiang Mu leaned forward, his figure looming over her. His strong fingers quickly zipped up her jacket, wrapping her up completely. The sun, weak at first, began to rise from the east, casting light on Jin Chao’s lowered lashes, which turned a soft shade. Jiang Mu lifted her eyes to look at him, and in that brief moment, the frustrations, confusion, and concerns from yesterday seemed to clear away, and something inside her warmed with the rising sun.
However, on the road, Jiang Mu soon understood why Jin Chao had told her to zip up her jacket. As soon as the motorcycle sped out onto the street, Jiang Mu almost choked on the moon cake in her hand. The gentle morning breeze turned into a fierce wind, slamming into her face. To protect the moon cake, she had to shrink behind Jin Chao, muttering, “Actually, my alarm usually only rings three times, and then I can get up. It was mainly because you kept me talking too late last night…”
“…”
He didn’t even know how it turned into him chatting with her. What did he say? He had mostly just listened to her ramble on, and by the time he tried to say a few words, she was already asleep.
The originally ten-minute journey felt like Jin Chao was speeding with her, and they reached the school gate in just two minutes and fifteen seconds.
Jiang Mu barely managed to take two bites of her moon cake before she noticed the school gate was about to close. In a hurry, she looked down and took a few more bites. Jin Chao got off the motorcycle, glanced at her sneakers for a moment, then looked at her focused on eating. Eventually, he couldn’t watch anymore and squatted down on one knee. Jiang Mu froze. She looked down and saw Jin Chao’s fingers swiftly re-tying her loose shoelaces before he nonchalantly got back on the motorcycle.
Her heart raced a little, and she almost choked again. In a panic, she stuffed the remaining moon cake into his hand, puffed out her cheeks, waved at him, and started to run toward the school.
Jin Chao took the moon cake, looked at her, and said, “Come back.”
Jiang Mu turned back, confused. Jin Chao pushed the rearview mirror toward her. She looked into it and saw her short hair had been blown into a messy slicked-back style, all over the place. Only her facial features could handle it, it wasn’t ugly, but it was definitely a sight. Her face flushed, and she instinctively glanced at Jin Chao. He shifted his gaze away. Trying to stay composed, she fixed her hair for a moment, returned it to its neat style, and then turned, stepping through the school gates just as the bell rang.
Jin Chao tilted his head and silently smiled at her back. When the security guard peered toward him, he quickly put on his helmet, wiped away all expressions, and turned the motorcycle around, disappearing outside the school gate.
Jiang Mu entered the classroom almost simultaneously with Old Ma. Naturally, Old Ma noticed her. After walking to the podium, he took a moment to look at Jiang Mu, who was calmly getting out her test papers and pens.
In Old Ma’s eyes, this girl was completely different from her brother. If the Jin Chao of the past was like an unyielding, glaring sun that couldn’t be ignored on this campus, then this girl seemed more like a quiet, gentle moonlight, uncompetitive, unambitious.
In fact, for Jiang Mu, repeating her final year wasn’t about competing for a better college entrance exam score, but rather giving herself more time to sort out her future path.
Jiang Yinghan wanted her to study economics or law, but she wasn’t interested. The mere thought of subjects like statistics, calculus, linear algebra, or those complicated legal codes made her head spin.
On the other hand, her old classmates thought she could easily go to an art school, given her skills with the guzheng and her appearance, which would be enough to earn her a ticket to a prestigious art academy.
These might be promising fields, but they weren’t what she truly loved or wanted to pursue. The guzheng, for example, was a skill that Jiang Yinghan had insisted she develop from a young age, forcing her to practice relentlessly, one piece after another. She would say that every girl needed to have some skill to fall back on, so if she ever found herself without a job or was mistreated by a boss, she could teach guzheng to survive and avoid starving. But to say she enjoyed it? That wasn’t quite right.
If it weren’t for the big argument with Jiang Yinghan and her subsequent disinterest in the college entrance exam, she might have just followed along with whatever came next, casually choosing any major. She probably would have spent the next few years drifting along and studying her major courses, obtaining various certificates related to employment, and then applying for internships.
Before, she had followed the path her mother laid out for her, accustomed to walking along the road her mother prepared. But because of the recent events, Jiang Mu now had an entirely new perspective on her future, a path where she could truly follow her own heart and take control of her future.
So, compared to other diligent and ambitious senior students, Jiang Mu took a more laid-back approach. After all, her first three years of high school were consumed by homework, leaving her overwhelmed. This year of repeating her senior year, as long as her grades didn’t fall, she didn’t want to make things too difficult for herself.
Old Ma again mentioned the upcoming first full-grade mock test in class, reassuring everyone to relax and not be afraid. The test would be a good opportunity to understand where everyone stood in comparison to their peers and help set the direction for the upcoming months of final preparation.
The class immediately became noisy, with some eager to get started and others grumbling about not being prepared. Jiang Mu, however, had no reaction. After all, she had already gone through five major exams in the first half of the year, including three provincial mock exams, one city mock exam, and one college entrance exam. So, she was quite indifferent to this school mock exam.
As soon as the class ended, Pan Kai rushed over and asked, “Jiang Jiang, Jiang Jiang, are we going to be seated in different classes for the mock test tomorrow? Do you think we’ll be in the same class? By the way, what score did you get on the college entrance exam?”
Jiang Mu didn’t even look up and replied, “332.”
Pan Kai was slightly surprised. He had always thought of Jiang Mu as a diligent student, as she always managed to arrive at school just before the bell, with a serious attitude toward her studies. He never expected her to be so far below the university entrance score threshold. Even Yan Xiaoyi, sitting next to Jiang Mu, had a speechless expression. She was copying Jiang Mu’s answers, unsure whether to continue copying or just write on her own.
Pan Kai quickly tried to comfort her, “It’s okay, it’s okay. There’s still half a year left. If you don’t understand anything, you can always ask me. We’ll aim to get into a second-tier university together.”
Jiang Mu silently glanced at him, too lazy to explain that the second-tier university entrance score for arts students in Jiangsu was 284, which had never been her goal.
She lowered her head again and flipped through her comprehensive exam paper. Pan Kai, seeing that she wasn’t responding, continued talking non-stop, “Don’t worry, if we’re in the same class for the exam tomorrow, I’ll try to help you.”
“…” Thank you, Jiang Mu thought.
Suddenly, Pan Kai seemed to remember something. He leaned closer and lowered his voice, saying, “By the way, didn’t you mention someone called Touqi before? I found out who he is.”
Jiang Mu’s hand, holding the pen, froze. She raised her eyes to stare at him. Seeing that she had finally reacted, Pan Kai dragged his chair closer to hers and said, “Yesterday I was playing basketball with someone near the neighborhood, and some of the guys there were from previous graduating classes of the affiliated school. They mentioned this name, so I asked them about it. Turns out, he was a senior from a few years ago, someone who liked to ride motorcycles. He even had a motorcycle club and often ran wild races. The reason they call him Touqi is because his speed was so fast that anyone who encountered him was as good as dead. They couldn’t even pass Touqi.”
Jiang Mu’s expression went blank for a moment. The sensation of flying behind Jin Chao on the motorcycle that morning rushed to her mind, and she immediately connected it with Pan Kai’s words. His skillful cornering and anticipation of overtaking definitely seemed like the work of a seasoned pro.
Pan Kai continued, “I heard that this guy was really famous. Not only in the high school but even among all the racers in Tonggang. At his peak, girls from nearby high schools would show up at the high school just to try and catch his attention. But then, all of their bikes were seized by the authorities, and things calmed down. Later on, for some unknown reason, he disappeared. A month or two before the college entrance exam, the school never saw him again. Rumor has it he didn’t even show up for the exam. The crazy part is that this Touqi was actually pretty good academically. He was the type of student who could have easily gotten into top schools like Qingbei, Fudan, or Zhejiang University, but something must’ve happened. It’s kind of a legend, right? I can’t believe someone like him came from our school. By the way, why are you so interested in him?”
The class bell rang, and Pan Kai had no choice but to drag his chair back to his seat. However, Jiang Mu’s mind could not calm down at all. She never expected that Jing Chao had not even attended the college entrance examination back then.
She suddenly recalled what he had said to her that day, Jing Xin had gotten sick when she was three. If she traced that back, it was roughly around the time when Jing Chao was in his senior year of high school. She had asked him if Jing Xin had caused trouble after falling ill, and he had told her that he had not been around for a period of time, and when he came back, Jing Xin had already stopped making a fuss.
So, what had happened to him? Where had he gone? Why did he suddenly disappear?
One question after another swirled around Jiang Mu like a fog. But it was clear that whether it was Jing Qiang, Jing Chao, or even San Lai, none of them would speak about the past. It seemed like everyone was deliberately avoiding a truth that she couldn’t investigate. The more this happened, the more intense Jiang Mu’s curiosity became.
As a result, for the entire day, her mind was filled with thoughts of Jing Chao. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t care or that she didn’t know anything. Thinking about how he had taken her to school that morning, helped her zip up her jacket, and tied her shoes, Jiang Mu felt a subtle heaviness in her heart. She didn’t know what had happened to Jing Chao that made him so silent now, but he clearly hadn’t stopped caring about her. Even though he appeared cold on the outside and often seemed indifferent, Jiang Mu wasn’t foolish, she could feel the suppressed warmth coming from him.
But if he cared about her, why hadn’t he contacted her all these years? It seemed like everything about him was a puzzle that Jiang Mu couldn’t figure out.
In the afternoon, she couldn’t help but take out her phone and send Jing Chao a message: “What bus did you say to take this morning?”
A few minutes later, Jing Chao replied: “Bus 6.”
Hard to Wake Up: “How many stops?”
Chao: “Three stops, southbound to Tongrenli.”
There were no extra words. Jiang Mu read the messages several times during the break between classes. During evening study, she sent him another message: “What are you doing?”
This time, Jing Chao responded quickly, but with just two words: “Busy.”
Jiang Mu sent him a photo of the mountain of exercise books and test papers in front of her, along with a crying emoji to show that she was also struggling.
Just as she sent it, a voice came from beside her, “Jiang Jiang, who are you texting?”
Jiang Mu quickly looked up and saw Pan Kai leaning over. She hastily put her phone away and replied, “Family.”
It was already after work hours for Xiao Yang and the others, and a car owner was in a hurry to take his car. Jing Chao was at the entrance of the car workshop, giving this regular customer a free bottle of windshield washer fluid. When his phone rang, he leaned on the car hood, lit a cigarette, and casually opened the photo Jiang Mu had sent him. The pile of test papers on the desk was so messy that there was barely any space to rest his hand. He frowned, about to swipe past it, when San Lai’s face suddenly appeared on the screen with a casual comment, “Wow, how intimate is that?”
At first, Jing Chao didn’t pay much attention. But as he zoomed in on the image, he noticed a cup among the pile of test papers. Upon enlarging the photo, he saw the reflection of Jiang Mu holding her phone. A boy was leaning in close to her, almost right next to her. Jing Chao locked his phone and went to deliver the car to the customer.
Jiang Mu waited for a long time but didn’t get a reply from Jing Chao. She thought he was still busy, so she didn’t disturb him further.
After evening study, Jiang Mu packed up her things and turned to Pan Kai, saying, “I’m not going home today. Don’t follow me.”
Pan Kai asked, “Where are you going if you’re not going home?”
Jiang Mu pressed her lips together but didn’t answer. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and left the classroom. Just as she stepped out of the school gate, her phone buzzed. She took it out and saw that Jing Chao had replied with two words: “Across the street.”
Jiang Mu looked up in surprise and glanced across the street. Under the black streetlight, Jing Chao stood tall, his shadow stretching at his feet, exuding an aura of aloofness and coldness.