Chapter 69
Jin Chao had long passed the stage of utter despair. Over the years, he’d gradually come to terms with his physical condition, and most days, he felt there wasn’t much difference between himself and anyone else.
But seeing Mu Mu in front of him break down in tears, his emotions rose and fell with hers.
People nearby, unaware of the truth, cast curious glances their way, sneaking looks, turning back again and again, with that air of wanting to watch yet feeling too awkward to stare outright. And of course, all those looks were aimed at Jin Chao.
After all, if a woman were crying like this in front of a man, most would assume it was the man’s fault.
Awkwardly, Jin Chao pulled Jiang Mu toward him and said gently, “Don’t cry. If you keep crying, you’re going to make me look like a heartless scumbag.”
Jiang Mu’s voice quieted, but her body still trembled uncontrollably.
They abandoned the climb, settling instead on a nearby stone bench. The sudden revelation had hit Jiang Mu like a heavy blow to the head, too much for her to process all at once. Her eyes were dazed and unfocused, and for a long while, she couldn’t utter a single word.
Between them sat the single-lens camera. Several times, Jiang Mu lowered her head to stare at its lens, thinking of all the photos he had just taken of those dead branches and fallen leaves. A pang of sorrow shot through her. Even as she struggled to steady her voice, it still cracked when she finally spoke, “So the photography was just a pretense.”
Jin Chao’s breathing was heavy as he gazed into the distance at a young man helping his girlfriend climb. Whatever light had been in his eyes gradually dimmed.
After a long pause, he said to her, “It’s really not as bad as you think. The first two times we met, you didn’t even notice, did you? I’m just not quite used to climbing yet. Looks like I won’t be able to treat you to that KFC at the top today. How about I make it up to you once we’re back down?”
Jiang Mu turned her head away, her eyes brimming, heart aching so badly it felt hard to breathe. Even now, in this state, he was still trying to comfort her. The more he acted like this, the more it hurt.
“Forget the KFC,” she murmured.
Lowering her gaze, she reached for her backpack, took out a bacon-and-cheese sandwich, and carefully peeled off the plastic wrap before handing it to him.
She had gotten up early that morning to make it specially, intending to bring it out once they reached the top just to show him how diligent and capable she had become. But now she no longer had the mood for that.
Numbly, she watched the steady stream of hikers passing by. In just the short time they’d been sitting there, so many had come and gone, elderly with silver hair, children still unsteady on their feet, but all of them whole and unbroken in body.
Jin Chao had once been so strong and lean. In school, he was the champion everyone watched for on the track, and on the racecourse, he was the unbeatable driver who dominated every competition..
In the pride and vigor of youth, he had returned with only an incomplete body. For someone as proud as he was, how much torment had he endured over these years?
Jiang Mu didn’t speak again. She simply sat quietly beside him, but inside, it felt as if her heart was bleeding.
Jin Chao was just about to take a bite of the sandwich when he paused and asked, “You didn’t only make one, did you?”
In a muffled voice, Jiang Mu replied, “I have no appetite.”
She then took a bottle of mineral water from her bag, twisted it open, and handed it to him. Jin Chao gave a soft sigh. “My hands still work, you know.”
Jiang Mu hunched forward, wrapping her arms around herself, and waited until he finished eating before saying softly, “You should have told me back then. No matter what, I at least deserved to know.”
Jin Chao answered, “You were still young then.”
That was why he couldn’t bear to see her struggle, torn between him and Jiang Yinghan, nor could he bear for her to endure such pain and pressure. Even now, after years of growth and resilience, the news had shattered her. What would have happened back then, at the peak of their love, if he’d told her he would be disabled for life? How could she have borne it? How could she have faced it?
In the end, he simply couldn’t do it. Couldn’t force someone that young to endure what even he had barely survived. When he himself had teetered on the edge of collapse, how could he have dragged her down with him?
Jiang Mu’s eyes burned, and her lips pulled into a pale curve. “So you decided to just cut off all contact. You really are ruthless with yourself.”
Jin Chao crumpled the leftover cling film into a tiny ball, gripping it tightly in his palm. His voice was low when he finally spoke. “That first year…”
He paused before continuing, “…things were bad. Later, when I could finally walk again, I didn’t even have a place to stay. In that situation, how was I supposed to contact you?”
Jiang Mu couldn’t bring herself to press further. Her heart was trembling at the thought. Those years, she had been in Australia, studying, living a steady life with something to look forward to. Though she sometimes sank into the melancholy of youthful romance, her mother’s health was stable, and her days were relatively smooth.
But on the other side of the world, he had been struggling down a pitch-black road, pushing forward with a broken body.
Just from those few words, Jiang Mu could picture how hard his life had been back then—how, when he saw no hope for himself, he could never risk burdening her.
She tilted her head back toward the vast blue sky, her eyes misting over with tears. Weathered by years of longing and regret, she finally understood why, no matter how far she had traveled, she had never found another man she could love with her whole heart. Because there would never be another man like Jin Chao. Someone who, from the time she babbled her first words and stumbled her first steps, through the awkward innocence of girlhood to the bloom of youth, had always shielded her as she grew. Even when his own world was crumbling, he still cleared for her a road of peace and ease.
After a long silence, Jiang Mu wiped her tears away and blurted out, “I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m not getting married. I’m not living with anyone.”
Jin Chao’s fingers tightened slightly around the water bottle, then he slowly lifted his head to look at the same blue sky she did. The tension in his brow eased at last.
……
On the way down the mountain, it was Jiang Mu who deliberately slowed her pace this time. Every few steps, she asked if he was tired, if he needed a rest, and several times she tried to steady him by the arm, but Jin Chao deftly sidestepped her gestures without a word.
By the time they reached the foot of the mountain, Jiang Mu hesitated before asking, “Where are you living now? Do you want me to take you home?”
Jin Chao was silent for a moment before calling her name softly, “Mumu.”
Then, his dark eyes steady and unyielding, he said, “I’m disabled, not a cripple.”
That one sentence brought a faint flush to Jiang Mu’s cheeks, momentarily speechless. Not wanting to embarrass them both, Jin Chao hailed a taxi and, on the way, dropped her off first.
When Jiang Mu got out, she looked back with sorrow in her eyes. She tried several times to say something more, but she also understood—some things, some emotions, couldn’t be untangled in an instant. Right now, even she was a mess.
Jin Chao met her gaze, taking in her exhausted expression before saying gently, “Go inside. Get some rest this afternoon.”
Jiang Mu managed a quiet, “Take care,” before closing the door and watching the car drive away.
Back in her apartment, she showered, ate a quick meal, and collapsed onto the bed. Years had passed since she’d last cried so hard, leaving her drained yet restless. Each time she drifted off, the roaring flames from the explosion surged back like a nightmare, jolting her awake. Finally, she gave up and sat against the headboard, grabbing her phone to dial Gu Zhijie’s number.
When the call connected, she asked, “Do you know where I can sign up for a driver’s license near the research institute?”
Gu Zhijie chuckled. “Didn’t you say you weren’t in a hurry? What’s the sudden change of heart?”
Jiang Mu simply replied, “Mn. I want to get it sooner.”
True to his word, Gu Zhijie took her request seriously. The very next afternoon, during his break, he sought out Jiang Mu and personally escorted her to a nearby driving school. Jiang Mu went through the whole process—registration, payment—swiftly and without fuss. When they came out, Gu Zhijie told her that she could start preparing for the written theory test in her free time; if she moved quickly, she could have her license in two months. Jiang Mu nodded.
For the next several days, she devoted every evening after work to studying traffic regulations, even downloading practice exams to test herself.
Yet despite her newfound focus, Jin Chao hadn’t contacted her once since their hike.
The sudden revelation of Jin Zhao’s long-hidden truth had overwhelmed her. The weight of all those years apart—each carrying their own burdens—crashed into her chest at once, and before she knew it, she had broken down in front of him, sobbing uncontrollably.
Looking back later, it was a little embarrassing. She realized there was a six-year gap between when the accident had happened and when she found out. He seemed to have already moved on from it, appearing calm and making every effort to live like an ordinary man. But her tears had forced him to confront his physical limitations again. That had never been her intention, yet she might have unwittingly touched a sensitive nerve.
The way he’d avoided her supportive gestures, the firm refusal when she offered to see him home…
Jin Chao had always been an outstanding student, the kind teachers said was “born with a gift.” Whatever he set his mind to, he seemed able to achieve with just a little effort. Even though his family hadn’t been wealthy when he was young, Jin Chao had still carried himself with a proud, unyielding spirit.
If not for his powerful sense of pride, there was no way he could have clawed his way out of the depths, battered and bloodied, after so many setbacks.
That was why he would never accept her pity, nor did he need her to accommodate him. Her cautiousness toward him might even make things worse. And that left Jiang Mu suddenly unsure of how to interact with him at all.
If not for the holiday notice being posted, she might have forgotten that the Mid-Autumn Festival was coming.
The institute distributed mooncake gift boxes and other holiday treats. Even as an intern, she received the same things. But on her way home carrying them, she felt strangely adrift.
On a day usually spent reunited with family, admiring the moon, she found herself alone, and the loneliness inevitably crept in. She sent Jin Chao a message: How are you spending tomorrow?
It was a long while before he replied: Got something to do during the day.
Jiang Mu asked again: Will the café be open tomorrow?
Jin Chao replied: Open until four.
So before four o’clock the next afternoon, Jiang Mu arrived at OON carrying a box of mooncakes. Before she even stepped inside, a message from Jin Chao popped up: At home?
She took a photo of the café’s starry-sky sign and sent it to him.
The “Closed” sign was already hanging at the entrance, but the door wasn’t locked. Pushing it open, Jiang Mu saw they were in the middle of splitting up crabs.
Gu Tao and Xiao Ke both had their sleeves rolled up, while Sister Fang came out from behind the bar. Seeing Jiang Mu, Sister Fang greeted her warmly, “Perfect timing! Want some crab?”
Jiang Mu smiled. “Brought you all some mooncakes. Where did all these crabs come from?”
Gu Tao turned and explained, “A client gave them to the boss. He’s been down with a cold and fever lately, so he can’t eat anything cold. Lucky for us. Take a few home with you, too.”
Seeing that they had already split everything up, Jiang Mu felt awkward taking any, so she waved her hand. “No need. How did your boss catch a cold?”
Gu Tao shrugged and said, “Probably got chilled over the weekend.”
Jiang Mu’s heart tightened. The weekend—that was when they had gone hiking together, wasn’t it? The wind on the mountain had been strong, and he had sweated so much. Later, they had sat on that stone bench halfway up for quite a while in the breeze.
Her face instantly paled. No wonder he hadn’t contacted her these past few days. She’d thought she’d made him uncomfortable emotionally, but now she realized it was something else entirely. She abruptly stood up, ready to go outside and call him.
But just as she stepped into the courtyard, Jin Chao appeared at the shop’s entrance in a dark overcoat. Seeing her come out, he looked a bit surprised. “Greeting customers now?”
Jiang Mu quickly put her phone away, replying in a flustered tone, “Yeah. Are you here to pay my wages?”
A faint smile curved Jin Zhao’s lips. “Can’t afford you.”
He pushed the door open and stepped past her, and Jiang Mu followed him inside, saying,
“You didn’t even ask my price before saying you couldn’t afford it?”
Jin Chao glanced back at her, his gaze deep. Just that one look made Jiang Mu suddenly think of a scene from their youth which the year she had accidentally ended up racing alongside him, and a rich second-generation had asked what price his co-driver was worth.
“Priceless.”
She remembered his exact reply.
Jiang Mu’s mood lifted in an instant, only for it to sink again three seconds later, when Gu Tao asked, “Finished your IV already? That was quick today.”
She quickly stepped closer to look at the back of Jin Chao’s hand. Catching her movement from the corner of his eye, he subtly withdrew his hand into the pocket of his overcoat.
So this was what he meant by “busy during the day,“ sitting alone in a hospital drip room on a holiday. The thought knifed through her. She should’ve been there with him.
She walked to stand in front of him with worry in her voice. “Still running a fever?”
Jin Zhao glanced sideways at her, and seeing the guilt written all over her face, he turned and bent down slightly. “Want to check yourself?”
His sudden proximity cast a familiar shadow, his scent sending a tremor through her. Almost unconsciously, she raised her hand toward his forehead. Just as her fingertips were about to touch, Jin Chao suddenly straightened, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Her hand met empty air, and she could only watch as he turned away, strolling casually over to join Gu Tao and the others.
“It’s fine. Head home early and enjoy the holiday,” he said.
Before long, they finished tidying up and got ready to leave. Jin Chao told them to go ahead, and he would lock up.
Once everyone had gone, the café fell quiet. Warm golden light streamed in, gilding the mountaintop outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. Jin Zhao stood behind the bar, while Jiang Mu sat by the window, scrolling through her phone.
Soon, the rich aroma of coffee drifted over, growing stronger. When she looked up, a cup had already been set in front of her. Jin Chao took the seat opposite and said, “OONlight, off the menu. Try it.”
Jiang Mu looked down at the latte art shaped like a moon and smiled.
OONlight—moonlight. Mid-Autumn Festival. Moon gazing.
This was the most seasonally perfect coffee she’d ever tasted.
Jiang Mu took a sip, and her eyes brightened. It was a familiar flavor, one of the rare ones etched in her memory.
The same taste as the coffee Jin Chao had handed her that night at the garage when they’d officially become a couple. Unusually sweet, he’d told her back then that not all coffee is bitter.
He’d promised she’d never taste bitterness.
A slow smile curved her lips as she looked up at him. At some point, he’d removed his coat, revealing a finely knit charcoal gray sweater that draped over his shoulders and arms with just the right definition.
Her eyes curved into crescents as she said, “Seeing them divide those crabs just now reminded me of when we still lived in Suzhou. Mom would always bring home crabs for Mid-Autumn.”
Jin Chao’s gaze lowered slightly as he said, “I still have a box at home.”
She set down the cup, idly swirling the handle. “Are you inviting me home?”