Jiang Mu picked up her schoolbag and followed Jin Chao into the small repair shop behind them. The previously suspended car had been lowered and driven away, leaving only a narrow passage beside it. Through the corridor, there was a small break room less than ten square meters in size. Opening the door revealed an iron shelf stacked with various parts, repair forms, a water dispenser, and two wooden chairs.
Further inside, a fabric curtain blocked the view of the inner space. Jin Chao stopped and asked her, “Have you finished your homework?”
Jiang Mu shook her head. Jin Chao moved all the repair forms to one of the chairs, roughly clearing the old desk. He brought the other chair to the desk and said to Jiang Mu, “Write here first. I’m going to take a shower.”
Jiang Mu put down her schoolbag and nodded.
After sitting down, she turned to see Jin Chao lifting the curtain and walking in. Through a corner of the curtain, she glimpsed an even smaller room inside, visible to the end, containing only a wire bed and a low bedside table. The curtain fell back, and soon Jiang Mu heard the sound of running water.
She took out a math test paper and laid it flat on the desk. As she looked around the break room again, her gaze suddenly caught a familiar box on the top of the iron shelf.
Although the black camouflage packaging had been torn off, the contents remained unopened. The galloping horse on the box remained untouched—it was the Parker “Dream as a Horse” gift set. Inside was a black gold-plated matte fountain pen she had carefully chosen for Jin Chao, costing over two thousand yuan. She hadn’t used Jiang Yinghan’s money but had saved up her performance fees from previous shows, specifically set aside and secretly bought for Jin Chao after coming to Tonggang.
Jiang Mu lowered her gaze and took out the somewhat old Parker fountain pen from her pencil case. She had always treated this pen as her lucky charm, using it only for competitions or exams. Though the nib and cartridge had worn out and been replaced over the years, she had always kept the barrel, unable to part with it. This pen had quietly rested in her pencil case, witnessing countless major and minor exams, accompanying her through all her struggles.
When Jin Chao left Suzhou, he had left this pen with her. Years later, she gifted him one in return, thinking he could use it, believing this gift would be the most meaningful for both of them. But she never imagined that the current Jin Chao did not need such an impractical fountain pen.
“Dream as a Horse”—perhaps his dream of joining the aerospace industry had shattered years ago.
Jiang Mu was so lost in thought that she didn’t even hear the water stop. Only when footsteps approached did she hurriedly stuff the old pen back into her pencil case and quickly close it.
Jin Chao approached while drying his hair. Jiang Mu didn’t turn around, her heart still racing. She didn’t want Jin Chao to see that old pen—the memories she cherished so dearly probably meant nothing to him now, just like the gift box carelessly tossed onto the iron shelf. It all made Jiang Mu feel embarrassed.
The warm steam from the bathroom enveloped her as Jin Chao stopped behind her, glancing down to comment, “Haven’t written a single word all this time?”
Seeing Jiang Mu’s silence, he threw the towel over his shoulder, picked up her test paper for a look, and asked in a flat tone, “What are you thinking about?”
Jiang Mu could hardly say she was wondering who between them was more self-destructive, so she could only turn around to try to retrieve her test paper. But she noticed Jin Chao’s gaze wasn’t on the paper at all—it was fixed on her face.
He had changed out of his dirty clothes into a clean, fresh T-shirt and loose khaki casual pants. He carried the pleasant scent of mint from his shower, water droplets falling from his short hair onto his sideburns. His jawline was tense, and Jiang Mu found her gaze unconsciously drawn to his Adam’s apple.
Jin Chao had always been good-looking, even as a child. She couldn’t remember which grade it was when he had to perform in some show, and the school teachers had put lipstick and eyeshadow on him, making his face very pale. He had kept a sour expression the whole time. She was very young then and thought her brother was angry, so she held his hand and told him not to be upset. Jin Chao had just coolly said, “I’m not angry, I just think I look terrible.”
She had strongly disagreed, drawing a big circle and telling him, “Chao-chao, you’re the most handsome in the whole universe.”
Back then, she only called her brother “Chao-chao” when she was emotionally excited, and every time Jin Chao would scold her for being disrespectful, but that time he didn’t say a word.
She still thought Jin Chao looked very good, though different from when he was young. For instance, she didn’t know when his Adam’s apple had become so pronounced. She had never found Adam’s apples particularly special before, but at this moment, she thought Jin Chao’s made him look very masculine.
Jin Chao put the test paper back on the desk and raised his eyes to ask, “What are you looking at?”
His voice was close, resonating like a bass in the cramped space. Jiang Mu hastily buried her wandering thoughts and said, “I like to meditate before doing homework.”
Jin Chao tilted his head back: “Why don’t you solve the problems with your mind then? Come out and eat.”
After saying this, he walked out. Jiang Mu followed and asked, “Will I disturb your work if I stay here?”
“No, the shop is mine.”
Jiang Mu thought that wasn’t so bad then, at least he wasn’t working for someone else, he had his shop.
Then she heard him add, “It’s co-owned with someone else.”
Jiang Mu immediately felt worse again. The shop wasn’t big, and he had to share ownership—could he make any money?
Of course, she could only keep these doubts to herself.
A table had been set up at the shop entrance, with San Lai and Iron Rooster bringing over several stools. The table was loaded with newly delivered dishes and rice, along with several bottles of beer. Xiao Yang had already washed his hands and came to open the takeout boxes. Zhang Fan had presumably gone to the internet café and left.
San Lai showed no awareness of being a freeloader, instead acting like the host as he welcomed Jiang Mu: “Little Mu, come, don’t be shy, sit anywhere.”
Seeing his demeanor, Jiang Mu asked, “Do you work here too?”
Iron Rooster bit off a beer bottle cap and spat it out, saying irritably, “What work could those hands of his do? He’s the owner of the pet shop next door.”
Jiang Mu turned her head in surprise to look at the “Golden Triangle Pet Shop” with its lit signboard, then back at San Lai with his scruffy beard and ponytail, legs crossed casually. No matter how she looked at him, he didn’t seem like a pet shop owner who cared for animals.
Seeing her bewildered expression, San Lai added, “After dinner, come take a look at my shop. Whatever you like, just take it, let your…”
He looked at Jin Chao, who was distributing chopsticks, with a meaningful smile and continued, “Let your admired big brother pay for it.”
Jin Chao threw the chopsticks at his face, saying coldly, “Get lost.”
San Lai caught them smoothly and handed them to Jiang Mu first. She took the chopsticks and said, “Not admired, you need to remove the ‘big’.”
San Lai grabbed another pair of chopsticks for himself and laughed, “Remove ‘big’? If not ‘big brother’, then just ‘brother’?”
Jiang Mu didn’t respond, lowering her head to eat her white rice. San Lai looked at Jin Chao with some surprise: “She’s your sister? You mean that…”
Jin Chao gave him a cold look, and San Lai swallowed the rest of his words, his mouth twisting as he cast a meaningful glance at Jiang Mu.
She was the only one eating while everyone else was drinking. The topic San Lai had brought up somehow shifted to delivering puppies, mentioning how his shop’s golden retriever had given birth to puppies two nights ago. He had stayed up all night watching over the mother dog, but the key issue was that nobody knew who the father was—the dad showed no dog’s loyalty and had never come to visit. He didn’t even have a wife himself, and his first experience with delivery was with a dog. It was truly ridiculous.
Iron Rooster took a sip of beer and said, “It’s normal. Your Xishi, every time she goes out to pee, she runs all over the place. She got herself pregnant, who else can she blame? If you want to blame someone, blame this flirtatious personality that takes after her owner.”
As they drank, although they were discussing dogs, their jokes became increasingly inappropriate.
Jin Chao put his beer bottle on the table and said, “That’s enough, there’s a kid present.”
Jiang Mu hadn’t dared to join the discussion about the golden retriever’s messy private life, and thankfully Jin Chao had stopped this awkward conversation in time.
A car pulled up beside them, and a middle-aged man lowered his window and called out, “You Jiu.”
Jin Chao put down his chopsticks and walked over, chatting with the man by the roadside for a few moments.
Jiang Mu looked over and asked San Lai beside her, “Why do you all call him You Jiu?”
San Lai had already finished one bottle of beer and was spinning the empty bottle in front of him: “Jin Chao drinks today’s wine—when your brother had nothing left, only a bottle of wine kept him company through those times.”
Whether it was Jiang Mu’s imagination or not, there was heavy sarcasm in San Lai’s voice as he said this to her.
She asked again, “Then why do they also call him Tou Qi?”
San Lai’s expression changed slightly. He glanced in Jin Chao’s direction and lowered his voice: “I advise you to ask such questions less often in the future, especially in front of You Jiu.”
He stretched and continued, his eyes showing a mix of haziness and complexity: “After all, that nickname represents the end of an era. Not many people like to dig up old troubles by bringing up ancient history.”
Jiang Mu fell silent. She felt this might be related to Jin Chao dropping out of school. If she wasn’t mistaken, something major must have happened during Jin Chao’s high school years, but his brothers all kept their mouths sealed about it. She could only temporarily stuff her questions back into her stomach.