Chapter 60
Jiang Mu had no idea how San Lai had dragged her down from the cliffside. Her eyes were fixed only on the raging inferno below. The blaring sirens of police cars echoed through the valley from all directions, and chaos erupted around them. The wild, frenzied young people scrambled into their cars and fled in every direction, while the racers vanished down the mountain roads.
Cars roared past them one after another. Someone screamed, “Someone’s dead! Run!”
Jiang Mu was numb, completely devoid of awareness. She was dragged into a car by Jin Fengzi and San Lai and shoved into the back seat before Jin Fengzi revved the engine while San Lai quickly jumped into the front passenger seat.
Only then did Jiang Mu finally come to her senses. She screamed, her voice breaking into sobs, “Jin—Jin Chao… he’s still… still in the car! We can’t leave him behind…!”
San Lai looked out at the valley, now ablaze with flames, and said, “The cops are already heading that way. If we don’t leave now, we won’t be able to.”
Before she could protest further, Jin Fengzi was already speeding away from the mountain. Jiang Mu nearly lost her mind. “It exploded! Jin Chao’s car exploded! Didn’t you see it?!”
San Lai turned back and grabbed her wrist, holding her trembling body down hard. He said firmly, “I know. But we can’t go back. The police will find him. If we go now, we’ll just be handing ourselves over as part of the illegal racing scene, it won’t help him at all. We have to leave first and figure something out later.”
Wan Shengbang and his crew had long since vanished from the foot of the mountain. Jin Fengzi swerved past several fire trucks rushing toward the blaze as they sped away.
Once they left the mountain, Jiang Mu didn’t utter another word. She sat rigidly in the back seat, limbs numb, her body breaking out in cold sweat. Meanwhile, San Lai, whose phone had regained signal as soon as they exited the mountains, was frantically making calls, pulling every connection he had.
Jiang Mu didn’t notice where they were driving. The world outside the window blurred into a meaningless reel of film. She couldn’t focus, didn’t want to focus until the car screeched to a halt in front of Speedy Auto. Jin Fengzi yanked open the back door and told her to get out, but she still felt like she was floating, untethered from reality.
After dropping them off, Jin Fengzi sped away in San Lai’s car without another word. Jiang Mu curled up on a wooden stool outside the shop, staring at San Lai in mute terror, digging her nails into her thigh with all her strength. She felt like she was trapped in a dream, a terrifying, incomprehensible nightmare. If this wasn’t a dream, how could she explain that just this afternoon, she was still in Jin Chao’s arms? He had fed her and called her his lazy little girl who refused to grow up. She had nuzzled against him, whining that she’d never grow up, and she’d cling to him for the rest of her life.
She didn’t know how long a lifetime was supposed to be, but it couldn’t possibly be just half a day. So this had to be a nightmare.
Yet even as her thigh purpled under her grip, the nightmare refused to break. The pain was too real.
San Lai kept shouting into his phone, his temper flaring with each call. She had never seen the usually easygoing man so furious. Finally, he roared into the receiver, “Are you f*cking useless or what? If the cops don’t have updates, get your uncle to check the hospital network! And if that doesn’t work, try the goddamn funeral home!”
The words funeral home hit Jiang Mu like a physical blow, and her stomach twisted violently. A wave of nausea surged through her, flipping and churning like a storm. She rushed to the side of the road and dry-heaved uncontrollably. But she hadn’t eaten anything that night, and nothing came out. The pain was overwhelming. Sweat and tears streamed down her face, mingling into a single, salty blur.
San Lai hung up the phone and rushed over to pull her up, saying, “You need to go home.”
Tears streamed down Jiang Mu’s face, but she couldn’t utter a single word, only shaking her head.
San Lai looked at her deathly pale face, clenched his jaw in frustration, then delivered the cruel truth anyway. “You have to go home. If—if something really happened… the police will contact his family first.”
The emotions Jiang Mu had been holding back all night finally shattered. She broke down into uncontrollable sobs.
She obeyed San Lai and returned to Jin Qiang’s place to wait, sitting on the edge of the bed all night without sleeping. She didn’t dare close her eyes. She was afraid the police might call Jin Qiang’s phone in the middle of the night, and she wouldn’t hear it if she was asleep. Even worse, she was afraid that she would hear it while she was awake.
She took out all the letters hidden behind the dartboard, reading them one by one, over and over again. When her eyes landed on the line, “Sorry. Missing you, always. Chao Chao,” her legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor, the letters scattering around her. She cried until her whole body shook, biting down on her hand to stifle the sounds, teeth sinking into flesh until blood welled up.
She waited in a daze until dawn. The good news? No police had called the house. The bad news? There was still no word about Jin Chao.
She couldn’t just sit and wait any longer, as she was losing her mind. By six in the morning, she bolted out the door and raced to the car shop, only to find San Lai’s car already parked outside. Jin Fengzi must have returned sometime during the night. Both men looked like they hadn’t slept a wink.
When San Lai saw Jiang Mu’s swollen, red-rimmed eyes, his voice softened with pity. “We’ve checked every major hospital in Tonggang and the neighboring cities. No news. But you know what? No news… is good news right now. Understand?”
Jiang Mu pressed her trembling lips together and nodded. Jin Fengzi took a drag of his cigarette, studying her haggard face before asking, “Have you eaten breakfast?”
She shook her head. San Lai let out a sigh. “She didn’t eat last night either.”
Jin Fengzi stubbed out his cigarette and stood up. “I’ll go get some buns.”
San Lai pulled Jiang Mu into the pet shop, settled her on a chair, and handed her a cup of hot water. “Let’s wait until after eight, when everyone’s at work, then we’ll go ask the police station again.”
Jiang Mu clutched the cup and nodded mechanically.
Before long, Jin Fengzi returned with a few steamed buns. Jiang Mu had no appetite, but she picked one up anyway, tearing at the dough in small, listless bites. San Lai watched her for a moment before saying, “Mumu, you’ve got to eat something. If you collapse before we even get news, how are you going to help find him? You need strength.”
She listened. Stuffing the bun into her mouth, she chewed and swallowed without tasting anything, eating only so her stomach wouldn’t be empty.
San Lai and Jin Fengzi exchanged glances when they noticed the bloody teeth marks on her hand, their expressions filled with even deeper concern.
The moment she finished eating, her stomach began to churn again, as if burning from the inside. She stood abruptly, muttering that she was going to wash her hands. But once in the bathroom, she stayed a long time. San Lai grew uneasy and went to check on her.
The water was still running. Everything she had just eaten had come back up. Her face and hair were soaked, dripping wet. She crouched by the sink, trying not to let them find out, making no sound, but her shoulders were shaking uncontrollably.
San Lai clenched his jaw and quietly stepped back. A while later, Jiang Mu emerged. She had cleaned herself up and pinned her short hair behind her ears, and there was no sign on her face that she had been crying. San Lai took a drag of his cigarette, silently studying her for a moment before pretending he hadn’t noticed anything and looked away.
They spent the entire day running from one police station to another, but none had received any reports about a car explosion the previous night. In fact, no one had even heard about any illegal racing.
Then, around noon, Jin Chao’s phone, which had been out of service all this time, suddenly started ringing. No one picked up.
That one small breakthrough was enough to jolt all of them, who had been running on no sleep for two days and one night, back to life.
If Jin Chao had his phone on him during the race, then at the very least, the explosion hadn’t destroyed it, meaning he likely wasn’t in the car when it blew up.
In the absence of concrete answers, this was the best-case scenario. Jin Fengzi and San Lai made sure to emphasize this to Jiang Mu, their words carefully synchronized. They could see the girl was barely holding on, physically and mentally, after running around all day. If not for her desperate hope of finding Jin Chao, she might’ve collapsed long ago.
Jin Fengzi and San Lai exchanged a look and decided to take Jiang Mu home themselves. In front of her, they briefed Jin Qiang, partly because they were worried about her current state, and partly so Jin Qiang would be prepared in case the police called.
Jin Qiang was shocked when he heard what had happened and insisted on reporting it to the police immediately. But Jin Fengzi and San Lai told him they’d already checked every station in the area. If the police knew anything, they would’ve contacted him by now.
On the third day, they decided to return to the mountain where the race had taken place. They hadn’t planned to bring Jiang Mu, but she showed up at the car shop before dawn, mechanically feeding Lightning and changing his water.
When San Lai opened the door, he found her crouched outside, clutching Lightning to her chest, her hollow eyes fixed on the quiet morning street. He wondered if she had slept at all the previous night.
Jin Fengzi arrived early, too. Neither of them wanted to leave Jiang Mu behind, so they took her with them to the villages near the accident site, asking around for the local police station in charge. Strangely, even the officers there claimed to know nothing about the explosion that night. They were told that if they wanted to report a missing person, they’d have to follow standard procedure, waiting 24 hours before filing a report.
Stepping out of the small rural station, San Lai and Jin Fengzi lit cigarettes in silence. Jiang Mu stared blankly at a stray dog napping in the courtyard.
After two days of questioning, if the three of them hadn’t witnessed Jin Chao’s car explode with their own eyes, they might’ve started to doubt whether it had even happened at all. So, they decided to go back to the mountain and take another look. The crash site still bore traces, the dented guardrail, and the scorched brush, but not a single piece of wreckage remained. Everything had been cleared away.
The drive back was eerily quiet. None of it made sense. It was as if Jin Chao had vanished into thin air. If he had really died in an accident, after 40 hours, authorities should have identified him and contacted his family. Even if he had been sent to a hospital, the family should’ve been notified. How could there be no information at all?
San Lai and Jin Fengzi had exhausted every connection they had in Tonggang, turning the entire city upside down, and yet there was no trace of Jin Chao. Aside from waiting for the police to contact them, they had searched everywhere possible.
In these past few days, Jiang Mu had been in a daze, drifting through each hour. Whenever she closed her eyes, she couldn’t sleep for more than two hours before jerking awake. And once she opened her eyes, it was nearly impossible to fall back asleep. Every time she drifted off, she was plunged back into a nightmare of roaring flames and deafening explosions, jolting her awake again. Over and over again.
She still went to the car shop at dawn to take care of Lightning, staying there all day without speaking or eating much. In just a few days, she had visibly withered, her cheeks hollowed out, and dark circles bruising her eyes.
By the afternoon of the fourth day, she finally collapsed from exhaustion, dozing off with her face pressed against Lightning. And in that hazy moment, a thought echoed in her mind. Minutes later, her eyes flew open. After hurriedly securing Lightning inside the shop, she locked the door and sprinted toward Xiwa’ao. It was her last hope.
Under the scorching sun, she ran faster and faster. When she reached the usual spot where the elderly gathered to play chess and cool off, she was told that Old Hai had gone to Guilin with his daughter a few days ago and hadn’t returned yet.
For the next two days, Jiang Mu kept checking Xiwa’ao, asking if Grandpa Hai was back. Finally, on the third day, she ran into Grandpa Tao, who was out buying groceries. He told her Old Hai had returned the night before and that she could probably find him at the pavilion.
Jiang Mu didn’t even stop to thank Grandpa Tao. She turned and sprinted toward the pavilion. By late morning, the place was packed with elderly folks, some playing cards, some playing chess, others idly spinning tops for fun. The circular pavilion was buzzing with activity. Jiang Mu wove through them anxiously, searching; she didn’t know how many laps she’d run. When suddenly, a voice called out from beneath a banyan tree behind her, “Jiang Nanshan!”
She turned to see Grandpa Hai sitting under the tree in his vest. The sight made her eyes burn with emotion. Startled, Grandpa Hai quickly handed his game to another elder and hurried over. “I heard you’ve been looking for me these past few days. What’s wrong, why the tears?”
Jiang Mu rubbed her eyes hard and said to him, “I need to find Officer Lu. Grandpa Hai, please… help me.”
Ten minutes later, Grandpa Hai personally led Jiang Mu to the home of Officer Lu’s parents.
He knocked on the security door, and Old Lu warmly invited Hai Ye inside. They had been old neighbors for many years, practically family.
When Lu’s father heard that the young girl he brought was looking for his son, he didn’t hesitate. Right in front of Grandpa Hai, he dialed Officer Lu’s number.
As the “beep… beep…” tone rang through the receiver, the anxiety that had built over the past few days reached a peak. Jiang Mu was trembling with nerves. Grandpa Hai pulled her to the sofa to sit, but the moment the call connected, Jiang Mu jolted upright from the couch as if shocked.
Gripping the phone tightly, her voice strained as she said, “Hello, Officer Lu… this is Jiang Mu.”
There was a clear surprise on the other end, followed by a somewhat stern voice, “How did you find my home?”
“I’m sorry… I’m really sorry. I had no other choice…”
Jiang Mu’s eyes welled with tears. Her voice choked as she pleaded, “Jin Chao… do you know where he is?”
Silence. A long, unbearable silence. Jiang Mu felt as though her soul was slowly ripped from her body. Time froze. The whole world froze. Her legs grew weaker by the second. She had to hold onto the edge of the table, her nails digging into her palm, before whispering, “Is… is he still alive?”
Officer Lu paused for two seconds, then said, “I’m in the middle of something. Wait a bit, I’ll call you back.”
Then he hung up.
Grandpa Hai, standing nearby, immediately asked, “What on earth is going on? Don’t panic, come, sit down first. I’ll ask Old Lu’s son to help you figure out a solution.”
Old Lu chimed in as well, “That’s right, child, don’t worry. Come, sit down and have some water first.”
For the next few minutes, Jiang Mu sat on the sofa, clutching her phone, not daring to look away for even a second. Roughly ten minutes later, Officer Lu called back. Jiang Mu answered immediately.
Officer Lu asked, “Jiang Mu, right?”
She held the phone tightly to her ear with both hands, breathing heavily as she responded, “Yes. It’s me.”
Then, Officer Lu said the words she had been desperate to hear, “Jin Chao is fine. He’s safe and unharmed. You don’t need to worry. As for where he is right now, I can’t tell you that yet. Do you understand?”
When Jiang Mu heard those words, she nodded repeatedly in excitement. Only to realize a second later, as she caught her reflection on the TV screen, that Officer Lu couldn’t see her nodding.
After learning that Jin Chao was safe, Jiang Mu could finally eat and sleep again, though she still startled awake easily. Every day, she would stare at her phone, lost in thought, sending message after message to Jin Chao. None were answered, all vanishing into silence. But she believed, as long as he was alive, he would see them.
And when he finished whatever it was that had taken him away, he would come back. Come back to her. He hadn’t yet taken her out to have fun. He still hadn’t answered her question about whether he’d go with her to Nanjing. She had to wait. Wait for him to come home.
She continued going to the car shop daily to take care of Lightning, sitting with him by the entrance all day. On the surface, life seemed to return to normal. But her heart remained hollow. Nothing held her interest anymore except the wait, the wait for Jin Chao’s return.
It wasn’t until Yan Xiaoyi called to ask about her exam results that Jiang Mu realized the scores had been released. She logged in and found that her score was higher than she’d expected, high enough to get her into her dream university.
She should have laughed out loud, even celebrated a little. After all, she’d worked twice as hard as others, spending four grueling years to reach this point.
Yet Jiang Mu sat before the computer without a trace of a smile. The person she most wanted to share this with was still missing. Until she saw Jin Chao with her own eyes, the weight in her chest refused to lift.
Then, the very next day, something unexpected happened. Someone appeared at Jin Qiang’s doorstep, someone who had flown all the way from Australia just to see her.