On Saturday morning, Jiang Mu surprisingly woke up before her alarm clock, which even startled San Lai. She was unusually energetic, wearing an expression that suggested she was ready to conquer the world. This enthusiasm continued even after she arrived at school, marking a departure from her usually laid-back demeanor, and lasted until evening.

However, her energy instantly deflated when she saw Jin Qiang sitting at the entrance of the car repair shop. Jin Qiang, knowing that Jiang Mu usually finished evening self-study late, had deliberately waited until Saturday to avoid disrupting her studies.

Upon seeing Jiang Mu, Jin Qiang stood up with a smile and said, “You’re back? Put your things down, let’s go eat first.”

He then turned and called out, “Chao, check where there’s a restaurant nearby, find us a place.”

Jin Chao handed the testing equipment to Xiao Yang with some instructions and then led them to a busy little restaurant. The owner was acquainted with Jin Chao, and despite it being peak dining hours with many customers, they were arranged in a quiet corner by the window.

Jiang Mu and Jin Qiang sat facing each other, while Jin Chao pulled up a separate chair on the other side of the table. When the server handed the menu to Jin Qiang, he passed it to Jiang Mu, saying, “See what you’d like to eat, order plenty.”

Jiang Mu kept her eyes lowered at the menu without taking it. Strangely, even though the man before her was her father, she couldn’t feel the natural ease one should feel with a parent. Seeing her hesitation, Jin Chao took the menu and ordered several dishes.

Jiang Mu continued to keep her gaze down. Jin Qiang looked awkwardly at Jin Chao, seemingly unsure how to begin the conversation. Jin Chao maintained a neutral expression as he poured tea for everyone.

The nights in Tonggang were getting longer, and after sunset, a chill crept into the air. Jiang Mu cupped the teacup to warm her hands as she heard Jin Qiang ramble, “Your mom must have badmouthed me quite a bit all these years, hasn’t she?”

Jiang Mu remained silent, feeling that any response would be inappropriate. While Jiang Yinghan indeed spoke critically of Jin Qiang whenever she mentioned him, more often than not, she didn’t mention him at all.

Jin Qiang sighed and continued, “It’s fine if you resent me and blame me. I haven’t fulfilled my responsibilities to you all these years. You were young when we left, there was much you didn’t understand.”

Jiang Mu couldn’t argue with that. Her only memories were of her parents frequently arguing, and when they weren’t arguing, the atmosphere at home was even more oppressive, especially after she started elementary school when she became more sensitive to her parent’s relationship.

Sometimes when Jiang Yinghan and Jin Qiang had disputes, they would deliberately close their bedroom door, but this couldn’t mask the storms brewing within. She would sit fearfully on her small stool in the living room, crying quietly. Many times, it was Jin Chao who would pull her into his room and give her headphones to listen to music. Back then, she didn’t understand why, but looking back now, she realized Jin Chao was trying to shield her from hearing the fighting, accusations, and verbal abuse.

For a long time, Jiang Mu felt that Jin Chao was the only one in the world who shared her fate and understood her feelings—that uncertainty, helplessness, and fear about her parents’ relationship. She couldn’t help but look at Jin Chao, who caught her glance and lifted his eyes, revealing a familiar warmth. Perhaps it was that warmth in his eyes that made those memories not entirely sorrowful when she recalled them now.

The server brought out a plate of boiled fish, breaking the silence. Jin Qiang said, “Come on, let’s eat, you must be hungry?”

Jiang Mu lowered her head and ate silently. Jin Chao took her bowl and filled it with white rice. The meal proceeded with everyone lost in their own thoughts, though the surface atmosphere remained peaceful.

There was a bowl of garlic on the table. After putting down his chopsticks, Jin Qiang took a few cloves, peeled them, and popped them in his mouth. He then offered two cloves to Jin Chao. Jiang Mu watched silently—eating raw garlic was never something that happened in her home with Jiang Yinghan.

Jin Chao took the garlic but, after glancing at Jiang Mu, didn’t peel it.

Jin Qiang, peeling garlic, brought up, “I know Xin Xin’s situation has given you a negative impression of Auntie Zhao. She’s just like that—her mouth always moves faster than her brain, speaking without thinking. It’s not just you; even Chao and I often get nagged by her, right?”

Jin Qiang looked at Jin Chao as he said this, seemingly hoping he would say something to ease the tension, but Jin Chao just kept his eyes down, playing with the two garlic cloves in his palm, saying nothing.

Jiang Mu asked flatly, “Then why did you choose her?”

The question froze the atmosphere at the table. Jin Chao stopped rubbing the garlic, and Jin Qiang looked at Jiang Mu, caught off guard.

Before Jin Qiang’s remarriage, Jiang Mu had naively believed that her parents were just having a bigger fight than usual, but someday her father would return with Jin Chao, and they would live together as a family again. The news of Jin Qiang’s remarriage shattered all her hopes.

She stared at Jin Qiang, asking such a pointed question to her father for the first time since growing up: Why did he abandon her? Why did he start a new family with someone else? Why didn’t he want her anymore?

Jin Qiang lowered his head, the wrinkles on his forehead exposed under the fluorescent light, making him look much older.

Jin Chao put down the garlic and said, “I’m going out for a smoke.”

He opened the restaurant door, leaving father and daughter alone. Jin Qiang spoke to Jiang Mu haltingly about many things. He told her about the day she was born in Suzhou when it was pouring rain. He rode his electric bike carrying a thermos, slipped on the wet road, spilling the porridge and getting himself hurt. When he reached the hospital, he could only take off his dirty outer clothes, but when he held her in his arms, the pain from his injuries and the cold disappeared.

He recalled her first day at kindergarten, with two high pigtails. They had worried she would cry for her mother, anxious all night, but she immediately played with other little girls and even said “Goodbye, Dad” on her own.

He remembered how she loved pink when she was little. On Children’s Day, he took her shopping but couldn’t find pink clothes. She pointed at a yellow princess dress, then liked a blue one the shopkeeper showed her, so he bought both. When they finally found a pink dress, they lost the first two on the way home—a whole month’s worth of his private savings.

He told her about her pneumonia in senior kindergarten, and how he would sneak out from work every afternoon to carry her on his back over a big slope for IV treatment. There was an old man selling cotton candy on the way, and she always wanted one. Once, she got it all stuck in his hair, which her mother discovered later.

He mentioned the Lantern Festival during Chinese New Year, seeing other children with various lanterns, and wanting to buy some for them. Jiang Yinghan thought it was wasteful, saying one would be enough to play with, but he felt that with two children if one got something, the other couldn’t go without.

Jin Qiang suddenly stopped at this point. Jiang Mu looked at him again, realizing she hadn’t properly looked at her father since he came to Tonggang. Perhaps it was the restaurant lighting, but she suddenly noticed how much gray hair he had—he was no longer the man in her memories.

Actually, she didn’t have many memories of her father. As a child, she only remembered that he was very busy, working overtime almost every day, and giving his hard-earned money to her mother. Yet they still frequently argued about money.

Most of the little things he mentioned, she couldn’t remember, except for the lantern incident. That time, her parents had argued about buying lanterns, but later her father carried her in one arm and held Jin Chao’s hand with the other, buying two lanterns—one rabbit-shaped and one dragon boat-shaped. She remembered Jin Qiang scraping together a handful of change to pay.

She gradually lowered her eyes as she heard Jin Qiang ask, “Did your mom ever tell you about Jin Chao?”

Jiang Mu nodded, and Jin Qiang’s brow furrowed as he spoke with resignation: “Your mom wasn’t well after giving birth, and I had to work, cook, and take care of both of you. Jin Chao was just a five or six-year-old child then. When you cried at night, he would get up, drag over a stool, and help prepare milk powder while holding the water bottle. He wouldn’t even tell us when he burned his hand.

Your mom always said he couldn’t be truly raised as our own. He was never close with your mom, wouldn’t cuddle up to her for no reason, wouldn’t even call her ‘mom’ in the first few years after coming to our home, and wouldn’t tell her about things that happened at school. But after you were born, he always tried to be good to you. Why? Because your mom only had eyes for you, and the foolish child thought if he did this, your mom would accept him.

When you just started elementary school, you were playing around downstairs and climbed onto Little Chao’s leg, rolling onto the lawn with him. Your mom saw it and told me to bring you upstairs, scolding Little Chao for not knowing his boundaries.

Boundaries? He was just a child then too!”

Hearing this, Jiang Mu felt a lump in her throat. She looked up through the glass at Jin Chao, who stood by the roadside not far away. The night wind had picked up, sweeping dead leaves and twigs past his feet as he stood there smoking, his figure slightly blurred in the evening mist.

Jin Qiang squeezed the garlic in his hand, his expression gloomy: “You ask why I chose Auntie Zhao… I can’t answer that. But living with her, I won’t be looked down upon for eating a clove of garlic, won’t feel like I’ve committed some crime for washing the dishes but forgetting to wash the pot, won’t have to remember to put slippers on the shoe rack, sneakers in the shoe cabinet, and leather shoes on the balcony.

Although Little Zhao isn’t exactly treating Jin Chao like her own son, she doesn’t neglect him. Before we left today, she even told me that it’s getting cold, and if you won’t come back with me, to check if you have enough warm clothes…”

…

“Your dad never gave me a single flower, how could he remember any special occasions? He just throws his clothes around anywhere, doesn’t watch where he steps even right after I’ve mopped the floor, walks in with muddy shoes when it rains, and gets the doormat all dirty. I’ve told him a million times not to put ginger in potato strips or garlic in vegetable soup, but it’s like talking to a wall…”

Jiang Mu could still remember her mother’s occasional comments about her father. Jiang Yinghan was a meticulous woman—her hair was always perfectly arranged, fresh flowers in the house every week, tables set with fresh blue placemats, and everything had its proper place. In her eyes, Jin Qiang was a destroyer who always went against her wishes.

This was the first time Jiang Mu saw her parents’ relationship from another perspective. Were they wrong? It seemed like neither was at fault, yet this was how things ended up…

Jin Chao had already paid the bill. As they left the restaurant, he stubbed out his cigarette. Jin Qiang said one last thing to Jiang Mu: “It’s not appropriate for you to live there.”

He stopped speaking as Jin Chao approached, then instructed him: “Well, I’ll go now. Take your sister back early.”

Jin Qiang’s deliberate emphasis on “sister” seemed to be a subtle reminder of something, though Jiang Mu paid it no mind, while Jin Chao just lowered his eyes and nodded slightly.

The streets were quiet and empty on their way back. As they walked toward the car repair shop, Jin Chao kept a step’s distance from her and asked, “Did Jin Qiang ask you to move back?”

Jiang Mu made a sound of acknowledgment.

“Have you decided?”

Jiang Mu stepped on fallen leaves beneath her feet, making crunching sounds, and replied, “No, I told him I’d think about it.”

When there were no more leaves to step on, she hopped onto the curb and suddenly asked, “What was that bad thing that happened to Jin Xin at school?”

The night was thick, the lamplight hazy. After a moment, Jin Chao responded, “The worst incident was when some fourth-grade boys stuffed her into a garbage bin. She couldn’t climb out and nearly suffocated.”

Though Jin Chao mentioned it briefly, the revelation shocked Jiang Mu. She had never imagined that eight-year-old Jin Xin had experienced school bullying. She suddenly understood why Jin Xin had lied, why she had frantically destroyed the learning machine when discovered, and why she lost control at the mention of her mother’s name. She was afraid of school, afraid of being sent there if people discovered she could solve those problems. Before this, Jiang Mu had never realized that the girl’s abnormal behavior, resistance, non-cooperation, and oddities were all ways of avoiding the outside world.

She gradually furrowed her brow and asked, “When did you find out?”

“Three months ago.”

“Does Auntie Zhao know?”

“She knows Jin Xin doesn’t want to go to school, but doesn’t know she deliberately makes teachers suspect her intelligence is impaired.”

“You haven’t told them?”

Jin Chao replied, “Jin Xin’s learning ability isn’t the problem. The problem is her fear of collective life. If I tell them, they’ll force her to adapt, which I don’t think is the best solution. You saw her behavior that day. I’m trying to convince Jin Qiang to take Jin Xin to a psychologist, but they think that’s no different from admitting she’s mentally ill, so they’re resistant to the idea.”

Jiang Mu noticed that when Jin Chao spoke of Jin Qiang, he used his name directly, never once calling him “Dad” during this visit.

Wondering if she was overthinking, she tentatively asked, “Are you living well with them?”

Jin Chao just smiled faintly: “What defines well? What defines not well?”

“How does it feel living with them?”

Jin Chao watched her wobbling on the curb stone, concerned she might slip, so he stayed half a step behind, keeping a close eye on her: “In what way?”

“Do you find it hard to adjust? Or… after Jin Xin was born? Do you feel out of place?”

Jin Chao put his hands in his pockets, his expression indifferent: “It’s fine.”

Jiang Mu suddenly stopped on the curb stone and looked at him: “What does ‘fine’ mean? Don’t you feel awkward?”

Jin Chao stopped too. Even though she was standing higher, she was still shorter than him. She looked at him, hoping to find some resonance, but only heard Jin Chao say, “I’m used to it.”

Those three words stunned Jiang Mu. In the cold night wind, she couldn’t help but shiver. She suddenly remembered—if she found this feeling unbearable after experiencing it once, Jin Chao had gone through it twice.

The first time was when she came into this world, taking away all of Jiang Yinghan’s love and Jin Qiang’s original attention to him, and the second time was when he followed Jin Qiang to his current family and experienced it all over again.

The simple “I’m used to it” echoed in Jiang Mu’s ears like a boulder dropping into a lake, creating ripples that couldn’t be calmed.

She stomped hard on the fallen leaves beneath her feet, venting some unnamed emotion. Jin Chao admonished her: “How old are you? Get down.”

But Jiang Mu wouldn’t listen, walking along the curb stone like a balance beam until she reached a break in it, forcing her to stop. Jin Chao thought she would finally come down and walk properly, but instead heard her say, “I want to jump across.”

Jin Chao looked at the distance to the next section of the curb and warned her: “You can’t make that jump.”

Jiang Mu glanced at him sideways: “Are you saying my legs are too short?”

Jin Chao’s lips curved into a smile: “That depends on who you’re comparing with.”

“Well, I’m not comparing with you.”

Since she wouldn’t move, he could only stop and watch her. Jiang Mu held out her hand to him, saying, “Help me cross over. There’s a river below, I can’t fall in.”

Jin Chao’s eyes shifted slightly—this childish game she’d been playing from age 8 to 18. He ignored her request and walked ahead, saying, “Crocodiles are waiting below, go ahead and fall in.”

“Chao Chao…”

In the hazy moonlight and shadowy night, he stopped, the deep pool-like light in his eyes suddenly stirred. He turned to look at her: “Are you trying to act cute with me?”

Jiang Mu kept laughing. He pointed at her in warning: “You’re not 8 anymore, that trick won’t work.”

Jiang Mu raised both hands toward him, lifted her chin indicating she was determined to jump across, and said with absolute certainty: “You won’t let me feed the crocodiles, right?”

With that, she jumped without hesitation. In the moment her body was airborne, Jiang Mu closed her eyes. She needed this gamble to make a decision—an incredibly important decision for her.

Just as her body began to fall, a pair of hands caught her. The opposite curb was too narrow; even if she had made the jump, she might not have been able to stand steady. Jin Chao only let go after making sure she was stable on the curb.

When Jiang Mu opened her eyes again, they sparkled with light. She looked at Jin Chao and said, “I’ve decided.”

Jin Chao chuckled: “Decided to feed the crocodiles?”

“Something like that. I’ve decided what major to study.”

Jin Chao’s eyebrows raised slightly: “You just decided now?”

Jiang Mu’s eyes gleamed with excitement as she nodded at him.

“…That’s quite impulsive. Get down.”

After speaking, Jin Chao turned and walked ahead. Jiang Mu jumped down from the curb and followed his shadow, hands behind her back, asking, “Was it hard when you participated in the physics competition?”

“Not easy.”

“How did you study physics?”

“High school curriculum was relatively easy to understand. I self-studied university physics, asked people when I didn’t understand something or researched and found materials myself.”

“Do you think I could learn it well?”

Jin Chao suddenly stopped and looked back at her: “You want to participate in competitions?”

Jiang Mu quickly waved her hands: “No, no, no, I know my limits. It’s just that my physics and chemistry still need improvement. If I want to develop in that direction in the future, I need to advance.”

A hint of amusement appeared in Jin Chao’s eyes as he commented: “It’s difficult. You’re not even familiar with using the existing formulas and combining numbers with shapes.”

“Well, you could teach me.”

Jin Chao stood there, the sharp edges of his eyes slightly curved, neither agreeing nor refusing.