Chapter 66
Mendan never ran around recklessly. The changing room had its food and bed, and most of the time, it didn’t even step out of there. So, when it suddenly dashed into the courtyard, Xiao Ke was frantic, rushing out after it. Thankfully, Mendan hadn’t gone far; it had just thrown itself at Jiang Mu. Still, that alone was enough to make Xiao Ke’s heart leap into her throat.
She hurried over to pull Mendan away, apologizing profusely to Jiang Mu. “I’m so sorry! It’s never like this. Mendan’s usually so timid, it doesn’t even get close to us, let alone approach guests. Really, I don’t know what came over it.”
But the moment Mendan had rushed toward her, Jiang Mu’s heart had surged with emotion. For a long moment, she couldn’t speak, her gaze fixed intently on the dog. Finally, she asked, “Has it always been called Mendan? Did it ever have another name?”
Xiao Ke replied, “Yeah, we’ve always called it Mendan. But I only started working here this year, so I don’t know if it had a different name before. You’d have to ask Gu Tao.”
Jiang Mu turned and walked back into the café. Gu Tao craned his neck and asked, “Everything alright?”
Xiao Ke patted her chest. “We should probably tie it up. If Mendan went missing, the boss would kill me, right? Oh, and she was asking if Mendan ever had another name.”
Gu Tao glanced at Jiang Mu and said, “All I know is that Mendan was the name given by the café’s first manager. Because it’s so aloof and ignores everyone, everyone just started calling it Mendan.”
Jiang Mu stepped up to the counter and cut straight to the point, “Then what’s your boss’s name?”
Gu Tao hesitated, thinking she was about to complain to the owner, and asked nervously, “If there’s something wrong, you can talk to me.”
Jiang Mu lowered her gaze to the exquisite menu by the counter, her eyes lingering on the prominent moon emblem. Her emotions churned as she looked up and asked, “Could you give me your boss’s contact information? There’s something I’d like to consult with him about.”
Exchanging a glance with Xiao Ke, Gu Tao recognized this familiar scenario. It wasn’t the first time a woman had asked for their boss’s contact details under some pretext. Knowing the serious consequences of giving it out, he replied tactfully, “I’m afraid we can’t share our boss’s personal contact information. But if you’d like to leave a message with us, our manager will get back to you tomorrow.”
Jiang Mu knew her sudden request for the café owner’s contact information was rather abrupt. But after coming here for coffee so many days without encountering him, and with no time to keep waiting indefinitely, she had to find another way.
Maintaining perfect composure, she nodded understandingly before ordering another OON coffee to-go. While Gu Tao and Xiao Ke were preoccupied preparing her order, she discreetly took out a fountain pen from her bag and placed it on the counter. Worried it might get taken by another customer, she nudged it slightly toward the back. Accepting her coffee with trembling hands, she cast one last anxious glance at the pen before turning to leave.
In the days that followed, she never returned to that café. She was taking a chance, a gamble to see if someone would reach out to her. The café staff didn’t have her contact information, but she’d kept the same Chinese phone number all these years. If anyone contacted her about that fountain pen, then all the pieces would finally fall into place.
But clearly, her clever little scheme had fallen flat. A full week passed without any word from the café. Jiang Mu began to worry that the pen might truly be lost, so after work on Friday, she hurried back to OON Café.
The moment she stepped inside, Gu Tao greeted her with, “You finally came! Did you lose something?”
Jiang Mu smiled awkwardly. “Yes, a fountain pen. Have you seen it?”
Xiao Ke chimed in, “We did! We put it in the pen holder, thinking you’d come back the next day to get it.”
Jiang Mu replied casually, “Work’s been hectic lately. I came as soon as I could.”
Gu Tao gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry to make you come all this way for nothing. Your pen was taken by our boss a few days ago. He’ll be here Sunday morning and said if you came looking for it, to tell you to meet him then. He wants to return it to you personally.”
Jiang Mu stood rooted to the spot. The warm lighting seemed to seep into her chest, the rich aroma of coffee flooding her senses until her whole body buzzed with excitement. Her eyes glistened.
Gu Tao and Xiao Ke exchanged puzzled glances. Quickly composing herself, she said, “Thank you. Please let him know I’ll see him Sunday.”
Jiang Mu had no idea how she made it through Saturday. Jiang Mu stood before her full-length mirror, scrutinizing herself from head to toe as if she had never prepared so meticulously for any meeting with a man before. She fretted over every possible imperfection and resolved to turn in early to avoid dark circles under her eyes.
But things never go as planned. Just as she lay down, her phone rang. It was a call from work. She was told to report to the office early Sunday morning. Her team had a business trip to Pucheng, Shaanxi, the following Monday, and they needed to hold a quick meeting beforehand to go over the trip details and schedule.
Jiang Mu did the math. If she went to the institute at 8:30, and the café opened at 9:30, she should still be able to make it afterward.
But the morning meeting dragged on until 10:30. Jiang Mu asked the lead researcher if she could leave early due to a personal matter. Luckily, her supervisor was easygoing and told her to go ahead, just be sure to come in a bit early on Monday.
Rushing out of the institute, she immediately tried to hail a cab. Ten agonizing minutes passed without success, her anxiety mounting by the second. By the time she finally got into a taxi, it was already past 11:00.
She pulled out a food delivery app to find OON’s phone number and called. Gu Tao’s voice came through the line, “Hello, this is OON.”
Jiang Mu, anxious, blurted, “It’s me.”
Only then did she realize that she had never told them her name. So, she added quickly, “I’m the one who left the fountain pen. Something urgent came up at work, so I might be a little late. Is your boss still there?”
Gu Tao replied, “One moment, please.”
The line went silent. Jiang Mu waited, uneasy. Before long, Gu Tao came back on the line, smiling, “The boss said not to worry. Take your time, he’s not going anywhere. He’ll wait here for you.”
Sitting in the back of the taxi, Jiang Mu held her phone tightly, her hand trembling from excitement.
The cab pulled up in front of OON. As Jiang Mu stepped out, a wave of nervousness took over, and her breath caught in her throat.
Wearing black ankle boots and a beige trench coat, she had just stepped into the courtyard when a middle-aged man seated on a wicker chair looked up and smiled at her.
His smile left Jiang Mu stunned.
She froze mid-step and walked toward him stiffly, her face starting to lock up. Just as she opened her mouth to ask, “Are you…”
Before she could finish, Gu Tao frantically waved at her from inside.
Before she could finish, she caught sight of Gu Tao inside, frantically waving his hands. Flushing with embarrassment, she muttered an apology to the stranger and hurried into the café. Her eyes darted around the space, but the person she hoped to see was nowhere in sight. Her heart, already uneasy, sank further.
She walked up to the counter and asked Gu Tao, “Where is he? Didn’t he say he’d wait for me?”
The moment those words left her mouth, they carried an unstoppable surge of emotion. The grievances that had crossed time, borders, and unspoken feelings naturally seeped into her voice. While her tone remained steady, the raw intensity in her eyes instantly affected Gu Tao, making him feel inexplicably guilty, as if he’d somehow wronged this customer.
Just as Jiang Mu spoke, the man behind the pillar lifted his gaze. Gu Tao, with an awkward expression, subtly jerked his chin toward that corner. Jiang Mu immediately furrowed her brows, turned, and peered in that direction.
In that brief glance back, time unraveled like years flowing like water, the vastness of past joys and regrets impossible to speak aloud.
There he sat, nearly unchanged from when she’d last seen him many years ago, the same handsome, well-defined features, those deep, tranquil eyes. A dark coat draped over the sofa back beside him, wearing a subtly patterned knit sweater. His frame seemed slightly more slender now, and his demeanor had noticeably transformed. Where he once regarded people with detached indifference, now he seemed quieter, heavier, somehow deeper.
Across a mere ten or so meters, Jiang Mu stood staring at him, tears welling in her eyes, yet her feet felt weighted with lead. That short distance might as well have been mountains and oceans, leaving her uncertain how to bridge the gap between them.
Jin Chao had an open book before him. He methodically closed it, capped his pen, and tucked it into the notebook, neatly arranging everything on the sofa beside him. Then he lifted his gaze to meet hers, gesturing gracefully toward the opposite seat with an inviting hand.
It took Jiang Mu exactly twenty steps to reach him. By the time she settled into the chair across from him, the tears that had threatened to surface had been swallowed back down.
Jin Chao observed her silently. The changes in her were profound. When she’d been speaking to Gu Tao with her back turned, he’d barely recognized her.
The once chin-length bob had grown out, now cascading over her shoulders with soft elegance. The baby fat that once gave her a girlish charm had faded with time, leaving behind a face that was strikingly mature and radiant. A pair of glasses now rested on her nose, adding a sense of composure and intellect.
When their eyes met, the girlish innocence he remembered was gone. Instead, her luminous gaze held a graceful confidence he’d never imagined she’d possess.
He lowered his eyes with a faint smile. “So, it really is you.”
Jiang Mu’s stare remained unwavering. “Who else would it be?”
Jin Chao produced the silver fountain pen from his pocket, placing it deliberately on the table between them.
Her gaze dropped to follow the pen. “You guessed it was me from this?”
Leaning back against the sofa, Jin Chao maintained his smile, his eyes never leaving her face.
“There aren’t many people who can use an astronomical telescope, make Lightning behave strangely, and own this exact pen.”
Jiang Mu glanced at the book beside him and asked, “Did you go back to school?”
Jin Chao replied with casual indifference, “Just getting a diploma to scrape by.”
Gu Tao came over with coffee and cake, and the two of them fell silent at once. He placed the coffee in front of Jiang Mu. She hadn’t ordered anything, but it was the OON she always drank.
After Gu Tao left, Jin Chao pushed the cake toward her and said in a low, calm voice, “They told me you like this matcha flavor.”
Jiang Mu didn’t touch it. Her gaze remained fixed on the delicate little cake. A few seconds later, she pushed it aside. “Don’t like it.”
With those three words, the air between them fell into silence.
Whether during school or later in her career, Jiang Mu had always been someone with an even temperament. But for some reason, whenever she faced Jin Chao, those tightly held emotions would flow out on their own—grievance, sorrow, even stubborn hurt.
And yet, it had been so long. Their lives had diverged completely, their circles no longer intersected, and they knew nothing about each other anymore. That wall of unfamiliarity stood firmly between them. She could no longer throw tantrums at him like she did when they were kids, so this was the only way she could vent the feelings buried deep within.
Jin Chao raised a hand slightly, signaling for Gu Tao to take the cake away. But Jiang Mu moved the cake back in front of her and said, “But I’m hungry.”
Gu Tao was about to come over, but Jin Chao gave a subtle shake of his head. Gu Tao paused where he was.
Jiang Mu took a small, composed bite of the cake before idly stirring the matcha powder with her spoon, her voice muffled. “…Why didn’t you ever contact me?”
The warm midday sunlight slanted in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a gentle glow. The silver fountain pen lay quietly between them. Jin Chao picked up his coffee and took a sip, as if weighing his words. Only after setting the cup back down did he finally speak again.
“Distance makes things difficult to maintain. If either of us met someone suitable, it would only complicate things. Better to live unburdened.”
Jiang Mu lowered her eyes, then gently pressed the spoon into the cake and looked up. “Have you been living unburdened?”
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Jin Chao’s lips, but the light in his eyes was fathomless, deep as an ocean with no visible bottom.
Suddenly recalling something, Jiang Mu set the spoon down and looked at him seriously. “Are you… married?”
Something flickered in Jin Chao’s eyes—just for an instant—but his expression remained unchanged. He offered neither confirmation nor denial, just that same quiet, unreadable smile.
She waited for an explanation, any explanation. Even a flimsy excuse would have been enough; she would have forgiven his sudden disappearance. But there was nothing. Not even a perfunctory lie.
The matcha on her tongue turned unbearably bitter. Jiang Mu took a large gulp of coffee, averting her gaze, carefully hiding the turmoil in her heart.
But then she heard Jin Chao ask, “What about you? Are you seeing someone?”
Jiang Mu turned her head toward the distant mountains, her throat tightening. “Yes. I have. We’re getting married at the end of the year. I moved to Nanjing for him.”
Jin Chao’s eyes slowly lowered. He uttered just two words, “That’s good.”
Just those two words, “That’s good”, were nearly enough to shatter Jiang Mu’s composure completely. She had carried this longing for so long, thought of him for so long, and now that they finally met again, all she got in return was a quiet “That’s good.”
Jiang Mu forced the swelling emotion back down and turned her head, eyes flaring with a restrained fire. “If I get married and invite you to the wedding, you’ll come for a drink, won’t you?”
Jin Chao unconsciously nudged the black coffee cup in front of him, his gaze darkening. “Not sure I’ll still be in Nanjing then.”
Jiang Mu’s nose turned red. “I’ll tell you the date well in advance.”
Jin Chao gave an almost imperceptible nod. “I’ll try.”
Then he glanced at his watch and said, “I have to leave for another appointment this afternoon, so I won’t keep you for lunch.”
Jiang Mu couldn’t sit any longer. She grabbed the fountain pen, slung her bag over her shoulder, and stood up abruptly.
The moment she turned away, all the bitterness in her chest surged to her eyes. She pushed through the wooden door and strode out, but the moment she stepped beyond the courtyard, that stubborn unwillingness yanked her to a halt. Rubbing her eyes, she turned back and stared at him through the glass coldly.
Jin Chao was still seated in the same spot, his posture unchanged, eyes fixed on the direction she’d left. The moment her silhouette disappeared, the light in his eyes vanished with it.
He never expected that just a few seconds later, Jiang Mu would reappear in his line of sight, standing in the courtyard, glaring at him, the winter chill swirling around her.
Jin Chao slowly stood up, and the moment he rose from the sofa, he seemed so much taller. His pace wasn’t quick, but step by step, he walked over to her, so calm, so composed that Jiang Mu couldn’t detect a single crack in his demeanor.
Her eyes were still a little red, but her expression was fierce as she looked up at him and said, “Give me your number. How am I supposed to invite you to my wedding without a way to contact you?”
Jin Chao didn’t move.
Jiang Mu took a step closer, raising her chin defiantly. “Don’t tell me you’re still trying to dodge giving a wedding gift?”
Jin Chao let out a helpless smile and pulled out his phone.
Jiang Mu jotted down the number and turned to leave. When she reached the courtyard gate, she purposely looked back at him and said, “I’m going on a business trip tomorrow. When I get back, I’m coming to sort things out properly with you about Lightning.”
Her tone was fierce, almost like someone gearing up to fight for custody rights.
Back home, Jiang Mu packed for the next day’s trip, finished prepping her work materials, and, after a shower, lay in bed with her phone. She opened WeChat and searched the number Jin Chao had given her. Sure enough, she found his account.
Even his display name hadn’t changed; it was still just Chao. That moment stirred something deeply familiar in her.
The only difference was his profile picture: now, it was a sun. But the sunlight wasn’t particularly intense; it was impossible to tell whether it was a sun rising or one setting beyond the western mountains. It could be interpreted either way, entirely dependent on the viewer’s state of mind.
Coincidentally, her own WeChat name had been changed from Hard to Wake Up to Mu the year she left Tonggang. Her profile picture, too, had switched from a cartoon rabbit-eared moon to a full moon, unchanged ever since.
She sent a friend request. A few minutes later, Jin Chao accepted. Staring at his sun avatar, she zoned out for a moment, then flipped to her own moon icon. Suddenly, she sat bolt upright in bed.
During the day, tangled emotions had overwhelmed her, anger at his years of silence, resentment that he’d settled in Nanjing without telling her, frustration that he offered neither explanation nor apology. In the heat of the moment, she’d blurted out all sorts of nonsense. But now, in the quiet of the night, clarity settled over her.
OON.
Mu.
The moon.
What was there left for him to explain? What explanation did she even need anymore?
Back when she’d just started university, Jin Chao once asked her why she chose that particular major. Jiang Mu had told him, she never had grand ambitions or lofty dreams. Her only dream had been him. Since he left this path, she would walk it for him.
Now she imagined how many nights he’d peered through that telescope, gazing at the same starry sky as her. Those vast celestial maps had carried their shared dream all along.
The café. The mountain. Nanjing itself…
Every piece of it had been whispering to her all the unspoken emotions that words could never carry. And yet during the day, overwhelmed by the excitement and resentment of seeing Jin Chao again, she had missed all of it.
Looking again at their avatars—sun and moon—Jiang Mu suddenly laughed into the darkness. Then, as her eyes warmed, she picked up her phone and sent Jin Chao a spinning little sun emoji.
Not long after, Jin Chao’s reply appeared: “Get some sleep.”