After the incident, Jin Chao didn’t say a word to Jiang Mu, maintaining his silence even as he led her away.
Never had Jiang Mu felt Jin Chao so distant from her. Even when they were separated by vast distances, she had always believed she held an irreplaceable corner in Jin Chao’s heart, just as he did in hers.
Until Jin Xin’s incident, she realized how laughable her previous fantasies were like bubbles bursting. If Zhao Meijuan’s surface politeness of the past two weeks could vanish in an instant, what about Jin Chao? Would the childhood bonds between them also be completely torn apart after this incident?
The truth was, she had indeed quarreled with Jin Xin before leaving home, but she didn’t know if this was what drove Jin Xin to climb onto the balcony.
Self-blame? Fear? Pain? Grievance? She no longer knew what she was feeling, as emotions gathered in her chest until she could barely breathe.
Jin Chao walked ahead with the dripping umbrella while Jiang Mu followed several steps behind. When the elevator opened, there was a patient being transported to emergency care on a mobile bed, with nurses and family members nearly filling the small space.
Jin Chao didn’t enter, instead heading for the emergency stairwell. Jiang Mu silently followed him. When the stairwell door opened and closed again, the night’s silence engulfed them like a beast in the darkness, making her nerves extraordinarily sensitive.
Jiang Mu suddenly caught up to Jin Chao, telling him: “She was lying. She can solve many problems—I saw it with my own eyes. When I questioned her, she smashed the learning device and locked herself in her room.”
Jin Chao remained silent. His straight back seemed shrouded in mist; Jiang Mu couldn’t see his expression but could sense his heavy mood.
She tried to explain: “I called for her to open the door, but she wouldn’t come out. I had no idea she would climb onto the balcony.”
When they reached the first floor, Jin Chao suddenly stopped. His voice echoed in the stairwell, low and suppressed: “You think I didn’t know?”
That moment shocked Jiang Mu. She hadn’t expected Jin Chao to know about Jin Xin’s condition, to know she was lying and deliberately performing poorly on her schoolwork. Why would he indulge in such behavior?
But just then, Jin Chao turned around, his dark pupils like inescapable blades in the pitch-black stairwell, fixing on Jiang Mu’s eyes: “And you? Why did you have to go out in such heavy rain?”
Ah yes. Unlike Zhao Meijuan, he hadn’t directly blamed Jin Xin’s accident on her, but to Jiang Mu, these words felt like an invisible reproach.
She stared at the man before her, feeling an unprecedented sense of unfamiliarity rising in her heart. She even thought about how Jin Chao was already over two years old when he came to their family—old enough to know who his real parents were.
Since she could remember, she had given him all her trust and affection, but she had never considered that Jin Chao’s perspective might be different from hers. From the moment she was born, Jin Chao knew they had no blood relation whatsoever.
She could still care for him and trust him after so many years apart, but he might not share the same connection with her.
The light in Jiang Mu’s eyes gradually dimmed as she recalled Jiang Yinghan’s warning before leaving for abroad: “That person is not your brother. You’d better keep your distance from him.”
Jiang Mu’s hands gradually tightened, the nail marks on her hands stinging from the rain. Gritting her teeth, she turned and pulled open the door to leave the hospital. Jin Chao asked, “What are you doing?”
Without looking back, Jiang Mu said, “None of your business.”
Half her body was already in the downpour when Jin Chao yanked her back, his gaze pressing down to lock with hers: “Haven’t we had enough trouble?”
“Do you think I deliberately abandoned Jin Xin at home? That I didn’t care if she lived or died?”
Tears glistened in Jiang Mu’s eyes, but she forcefully held them back. The automatic door closed again, with the empty hospital lobby on the right and sheets of rain pouring down on the left. Her voice was drowned out by wave after wave of rain, forcing Jin Chao to lean closer to hear what she was saying. However, Jiang Mu’s instinctive step backward made his feet stop abruptly.
The rain fell diagonally, autumn rain like smoke, blurring everything. She looked at him, her eyes holding a light familiar to Jin Chao.
In the year after his senior year, he had seen that expression on countless faces—that look of gradually drifting away from him.
The rain was too loud for him to hear what she was saying clearly, but he read her lips, and her voice seemed to appear in his ears:
“You’re not my brother. We have no connection. Where I go is none of your business.”
As her last word fell, her figure plunged into the heavy rain, regardless of consequences, disappearing into the night. The shock in Jin Chao’s eyes was like raindrops hitting standing water, splashing up tumultuous ripples. Something deep in his heart was being torn apart, denied, and abandoned.
Jiang Mu ran far without stopping. She didn’t recognize the roads near Tong Gang First Hospital at all, but she didn’t want to stay there—she didn’t even want to wait out the night.
There were no taxis on the road, not even pedestrians. She didn’t know how long she had run before ducking under the roof of an ATM booth at a street corner. The rain was too heavy; splashing droplets still hit her constantly.
She took out her phone from her pants pocket. The screen was wet but still worked. She searched the app for the next available ride home. There were no direct routes from Tong Gang to Suzhou; she could only find trains to Beijing, but the earliest one wasn’t until tomorrow morning. She looked up at the vast rainy night, with no light above, only needle-like raindrops piercing the earth. For the first time, she tasted true despair. She wanted to call her mother, tell her everything that had happened, and tell her she never wanted to stay in this awful place again. But just as she was about to dial, she suddenly stopped. Jiang Yinghan was in Melbourne—even if she told her everything, her mother couldn’t immediately appear by her side to help her escape. Instead, she would immediately call Jin Qiang to argue, not only making Jin Qiang and Zhao Meijuan think she was a troublemaker who ran to tattle at the first opportunity but also causing her mother in Melbourne to worry endlessly.
Jiang Mu suddenly realized this phone call wouldn’t solve any problems tonight. She locked her phone forcefully and crouched down, burying her face between her knees. Time passed silently, and in these few minutes, she thought of more practical problems.
The paperwork for her repeat year had been arranged solely between Jiang Yinghan and Jin Qiang. Even if she caught the earliest train tomorrow morning, what would she do after returning to Suzhou? How would she attend school? What procedures would she need? Where would she get the necessary documents? Would a parent need to be present? She knew nothing about any of this.
Her initial impulse was scattered by the fierce wind, and as Jiang Mu gradually calmed down, she felt an even more helpless despair.
Warm liquid dripped down her arm onto the ground, mixing with the rain. After an unknown time, the rain hitting her body stopped. Jiang Mu lifted her face from between her knees to see a large black umbrella above her head, with Jin Chao standing before her, breathing heavily. His eyes were no longer calm and expressionless; instead, they held clear anxiety, like a flame illuminating the night.
He didn’t know how long he had searched, running through almost every street near the hospital. He dared not imagine how dangerous such a rainy night could be for a girl unfamiliar with the area. When he finally saw her figure curled up beside the ATM, his heart finally settled. He strode toward her, full of anger, but the moment Jiang Mu raised her head, her red eyes and wronged expression made her look like a poor soul misunderstood and abandoned by the world, leaving him unable to utter a single word of reproach.
He slowly crouched down, his large umbrella sheltering them in a small space. Jiang Mu tightly hugged her knees, her eyes flickering. His breath was close to her, his gaze falling on the bloody scratches on her hands, his eyes suddenly tightening.
Jin Chao raised his hand, the calluses on his fingertips brushing across her cheek, trying to wipe away her tears, but this slight gesture only made Jiang Mu’s tears flow more freely, like an unstoppable flood.
Jin Chao’s hand moved to the back of her head, pulling it against his collarbone, feeling her trembling shoulders. Like when she was little, he rhythmically patted her back, gently soothing her emotions, saying: “She wasn’t always like this. When she first got the condition, she was still quite positive—perhaps because she was too young to understand. As it progressed, the affected area kept expanding. Later it spread to her head, and the treatment required shaving all her hair. No one in kindergarten would play with her, and things didn’t improve in elementary school. Although we spoke with the school teachers, she still encountered… some unpleasant experiences at school. While I only suspected before, today’s events make me more certain that Xin Xin might have developed a serious psychological condition. This means from today on, besides physical treatment, she might also need some degree of psychological therapy. I wasn’t blaming you—I just think it’s pretty messed up that you got dragged into this.”
Jiang Mu looked up at him in disbelief. Jin Chao’s eyelashes were wet with rain; he was just as drenched and disheveled as she was. He was explaining to her—explaining Jin Xin’s unusual behavior and everyone’s anxiety. The weight that had been pressing on Jiang Mu’s heart seemed to ease slightly.
His comforting pats gradually stopped, his voice lowering: “Can we go back now?”
Outside the umbrella was another world, strange and cold. Under it, he had created a temporary shelter for her. Jiang Mu stopped being stubborn—she couldn’t keep crouching here fighting with herself. She needed to get through this unfortunate night.
She stood up, her eyes constantly darting around, saying awkwardly: “There’s no transportation. How do we get back?”
Just as she finished speaking, Jin Chao’s phone rang. He answered and gave an address. Within minutes, a white Honda appeared in their view with hazard lights flashing. Jin Chao raised his right hand, waving his lit phone screen at the Honda, which turned and sped toward them.
Jin Chao held the umbrella, glancing sideways at Jiang Mu. She was still shrinking away, keeping several steps’ distance, clearly trying to maintain boundaries. Jin Chao simply pulled her over, keeping her under the umbrella as they walked toward the Honda.
Opening the back door, Jin Chao pushed Jiang Mu in before walking around to the passenger seat. As soon as she got in, Jiang Mu saw San Lai turn around in surprise, staring at her, then turning to look at the equally drenched Jin Chao, exclaiming: “Were you two grave robbing in the middle of the night? How did you end up like this?”
He turned back to look at Jiang Mu again. Jiang Mu pressed her lips together silently. Jin Chao raised his hand to turn San Lai’s head back around, uttering two words: “Just drive.”
The atmosphere in the car was strange. San Lai kept glancing at Jiang Mu in the rearview mirror and stealing looks at Jin Chao, muttering to himself: “Did you two fight?”
Jin Chao irritably rubbed his brow: “If you can’t drive properly, I’ll drive.”
San Lai fell silent, twisting his mouth as he continued driving.
Jiang Mu had lost her house keys along with the plastic bag, so Jin Chao had San Lai drive back to the garage to get the spare key.
Tong Ren Li was particularly desolate on a rainy night, with all shops tightly shut. The car stopped in front of Feichi Garage. Jin Chao opened the rolling door, walked through the dark repair shop to the rest area, and then lifted the curtain to find the spare key inside.
When he came out, he saw Jiang Mu had followed him into the rest area, her hands tightly clasped in front of her, head slightly bowed. He looked at her and said: “We can go now.”
Jiang Mu didn’t move. Jin Chao urged again: “It’s late.”
He walked to the rest area’s door, just stepping into the repair shop when Jiang Mu’s voice suddenly came from behind: “Does your previous offer still stand?”
Jin Chao fiddled with the key in his hand as he turned around, glancing at her: “What offer?”
“About… staying at your place.”
Jin Chao’s key-twirling hand stopped in mid-air, his sharp jawline slowly pulling into an arc, his mouth relaxing into a smirk: “I’m not your brother, remember? Do you think that’s appropriate?”
Jiang Mu bit her inner lip hard, her long-suffering expression making Jin Chao want to laugh. He tossed her the key and turned back toward the inner room, leaving with the words: “Just for one night.”