On the way back, Jiang Mu thought Jin Chao would say something, especially since Teacher Ma had asked her to leave early – they must have discussed her.

But Jin Chao remained silent throughout the journey. After parking at the garage entrance and Jiang Mu got out, she saw San Lai peering from his shop and waved to him. As soon as she entered the repair shop, Jin Chao lowered the roller door halfway behind her and said, “Let’s talk.”

Jiang Mu stopped in her tracks. Jin Chao placed her backpack on a nearby box and looked at her across the car lift, but didn’t speak.

His gaze made Jiang Mu uneasy, so she spoke first: “Brother San Lai said you were on a business trip?”

Jin Chao made a questioning sound, then affirmed, “Yes.”

Jiang Mu’s shoes scraped softly against the repair shop floor. The space was so quiet she could hear her breathing. After hesitating for a moment, she asked, “Did you go alone?”

“No,” Jin Chao’s voice was slightly hoarse as if he hadn’t slept well.

Jiang Mu’s heart wavered, but she finally asked, “Was it with a woman?”

Her question successfully made Jin Chao raise his eyes as he responded, “Why do you ask?”

Jiang Mu glanced toward the curtain, thinking of the indescribable item in the bedside drawer behind it.

But face-to-face with Jin Chao now, she couldn’t continue her questioning.

After a while, Jin Chao’s voice softened: “Still want to go back to Suzhou?”

Jiang Mu lowered her eyelashes, looking at her feet: “Did Teacher Ma tell you?”

Jin Chao let out a soft breath and stepped across the car lift to stand before her. Jiang Mu stepped back, leaning away, but before she could touch the wall, Jin Chao grabbed her school uniform and pulled her forward. The sudden force made Jiang Mu’s heart race, and she looked up with a flushed face.

But Jin Chao only said, “The wall’s dirty.”

Jiang Mu stared at him, her mind blank. Jin Chao moved away to lean against the lift pillar and asked, “You want to leave that badly?”

Jiang Mu lowered her head and said softly, “I’m afraid of disturbing you.”

“Disturbing me how?”

Jiang Mu bit her lip. The repair shop lights were off, with only light filtering through the half-lowered roller door. Her face showed embarrassment at something she couldn’t express.

Jin Chao seemed to suddenly understand, silently studying her expression until Jiang Mu surrendered and lowered her gaze. Only then did he sigh and step in front of her again.

He was so tall that Jiang Mu only reached his chest. His tall shadow draped over her like gossamer as he said, “I went with Jin Fengzi. There wasn’t any woman.”

After saying this, Jin Chao suddenly laughed, lowering his head at the absurdity of it all. He felt ridiculous as if he’d done something shameful that needed explaining. But he had been alone all these years – what woman would there be to mind his business, what woman would there be to demand his explanations?

He looked up with amusement in his eyes, his handsome, cold features impossible to stare at directly, and asked in a deep voice, “Is this why you wanted to leave?”

Jiang Mu sucked in her cheeks. Though he had seen right through her, she was too embarrassed to admit it, keeping her hands properly in front of her.

Jin Chao couldn’t understand where Jiang Mu got all these confused ideas. Seeing her awkward demeanor, his heart filled with mixed emotions. The girl who used to laugh when happy and cry when sad, who would climb onto his back to steal his food, who would pester him endlessly about every little thought – she had become so sensitive and careful around him now. Time had changed him, but hadn’t it changed her too? He wondered if she would have more confidence and security now if he had stayed by her side back then.

Jiang Mu’s short hair fell forward, covering her cheeks and making her face look even smaller. He raised his hand to brush her hair aside when San Lai bent down and poked his head through the roller door. What he saw was Jiang Mu shrinking timidly with a lowered head, and Jin Chao reaching out as if to embrace her, their shadows overlapping in the dim light. The scene shocked San Lai into exclaiming, “Holy crap, what are you two doing?”

The outburst made Jin Chao withdraw his hand and walk out, raising the roller door. Jin Chao didn’t return for a long while, so Jiang Mu took her backpack to the restroom to study.

He went to sit with San Lai for a while, who asked about his past two days. Jin Chao casually chatted with him, but San Lai kept staring at him with a knowing smirk until Jin Chao threw his cigarette pack at him: “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll gouge your eyes out.”

San Lai caught the pack, took out a cigarette, and tossed it back: “Little Jiang Mu asked me if you had a woman.”

Jin Chao lowered his head, tapping out a cigarette and putting it in his mouth: “What did you tell her?”

San Lai lounged back in his swivel chair, feet up on the counter, eyes curved in amusement: “I said you had one that wasn’t confirmed yet.”

Jin Chao froze – that sounded like he had a friends-with-benefits situation. He slowly stood and walked to San Lai, snatched the newly lit cigarette from his mouth, stubbed it out in the ashtray, and cursed, “You know how to cause trouble for me.”

…

When Jin Chao returned from next door, Jiang Mu was still buried in her practice problems. He went outside the glass to clean the fuel injectors. Jiang Mu could see him working whenever she looked up. Though they were each busy with their tasks, separated by a pane of glass, Jiang Mu loved this sense of stability.

After some time, Jin Chao suddenly spoke: “I don’t have a woman, and I’m not considering that right now. You don’t need to worry. Since you’ve come to Tonggang, besides Jin Qiang’s place, if you’re willing, this can be your home too. While I’m here, no one can make you leave.”

Jiang Mu’s grip on her pen tightened. Her anxious, uncertain heart, upon hearing these words directly from Jin Chao, felt like a drifting leaf that had found a tree root to temporarily cling to.

Seeing her keep her head down without response, Jin Chao paused his work and glanced at her. Jiang Mu took the notice they had received that evening and pressed it against the glass, pointing to the “Parent’s Signature” at the bottom right corner with a bright smile.

The notice was a letter to parents, basically asking them to pay attention to the physical and mental health of their third-year students, to be mindful of their psychological state and daily routines, and to work with the school to help the students through their final sprint of high school.

Though it was just template content, Jin Chao read it very carefully. Only after reading the last word did he ask Jiang Mu for a pen, then bent down to sign his name “Jin Chao” in the corner.

This wasn’t the first time Jin Chao had signed for her. In second grade, she had run to him with a failed test paper, saying she didn’t dare tell her mother but needed a parent’s signature. Seeing her crying, Jin Chao had signed it for her.

The result was that her teacher requested a parent conference, and Jin Chao, just a first-year middle school student, appeared before the teacher like a little adult with his backpack, telling the young female teacher that he would take responsibility for her grades and guarantee she wouldn’t score so low again.

The young teacher, having heard of this elementary school top student who had just graduated from sixth grade, saw his earnest expression and gave them a chance, keeping their secret. Afterward, Jin Chao would make Jiang Mu recite characters and ancient poems every night, testing her at random times.

But just two weeks after Jiang Mu achieved good grades, Jin Chao left her. Since then, no matter what difficulties she faced, there was never again someone who would shoulder her burdens.

Jiang Mu held the notice for a long while, studying the two simple but powerful characters. She hadn’t seen Jin Chao’s handwriting for so long. By the year he left Suzhou, his writing had already shown strong character. Jiang Mu had spent a long time trying to imitate his homework notebooks, but she never managed to master Jin Chao’s strong, graceful style. Still, over the years, she had always followed in his footsteps, working hard on her penmanship.

Jiang Mu carefully folded the notice and put it in her backpack. When she looked up at Jin Chao outside, she couldn’t hide her smile. That small signature had reconnected their relationship across time and space.

Though Jin Chao wasn’t looking at her, he seemed to feel her gaze, and his eyes showed a rare warmth as he kept his head down.

…

Jiang Mu stopped wondering about that indescribable box and what it was for, just leaving it in the bedside drawer, no longer concerned about it.

Since Jin Chao had signed the notice, Jiang Mu felt he was taking the parent role more and more seriously. The next day, a milk box appeared at the garage entrance – Jin Chao had ordered milk delivery for her.

Although Jiang Mu hated boiled eggs, Jin Chao still boiled one for her. The first day, she casually accepted it and put it in her pocket, saying she’d eat it on the way.

On the second day, Jin Chao simply peeled the egg for her, leaving her no chance to make excuses. She had to eat it right in front of him, which led to her developing an egg-induced anxiety over the next few days.

Jin Chao even commandeered San Lai’s juicer and bought lots of oranges. Every day when she returned from evening self-study, there would be a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice on the table.

One morning, Jiang Mu finally couldn’t help saying, “You’re even stricter than my mom.”

Jin Chao replied coolly, “I signed the paper.”

Jiang Mu stared at him for a while before realizing he meant that notice – a simple parent letter had given him a sense of contractual obligation.

As Jiang Mu was looking at him speechlessly, Jin Chao handed her the peeled egg: “If you become malnourished while staying with me, where would I put my face? Eat it.”

As for Jin Chao’s obsession with orange juice, it was supposedly to supplement her Vitamin C, worried that her weak immunity might lead to another bout of cold and fever.

Regarding the mysterious keychain San Lai had mentioned, Jiang Mu remained very curious. She had been looking for an opportunity to investigate, and finally found her chance Thursday evening.

When Jiang Mu returned, Jin Chao was crouching at the garage entrance, busy working. Seeing his hands were too dirty to handle things, she deliberately went over and pointed at the roller door, saying, “I need to get to school early tomorrow. You don’t need to wake up early – just give me the spare key, I can open the door myself.”

Jin Chao didn’t think much of it and stood up to wash his hands, but Jiang Mu immediately stepped in front of him saying, “Just tell me where it is, I’ll get it myself.”

Jin Chao stood still, his eyes glancing at his left jeans pocket. Jiang Mu’s eyes sparkled with barely contained curiosity as she immediately reached into his left pocket. Sure enough, she felt a key, but before pulling it out, she realized it was bare – no keychain attached. So she pretended not to find it and reached into his right pocket.

She was so focused on finding the keychain that she unconsciously moved closer. The wind lifted her short hair, repeatedly brushing against Jin Chao’s chest. The ticklish sensation reached his heart, and Jin Chao frowned as he looked down at her. As she drew closer, the increasingly heated atmosphere kept reminding him that before him stood an attractive young woman – he could no longer treat her as a child. So when her hand was about to reach for his back pocket, Jin Chao narrowed his eyes and asked, “What exactly are you searching for?”

His dangerous gaze made Jiang Mu extremely embarrassed. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of San Lai nearly doubled over with laughter by his shop door. Suddenly realizing she’d been tricked, she ran back to her room in angry embarrassment, leaving Jin Chao bewildered. He couldn’t understand why she was upset about not being allowed to search his pockets. Could she find gold in there? Should he start keeping some coins in his pockets for her to play with?

That night before leaving, Jin Chao specially left the key by her backpack, but the next morning, even after Xi Shi had gone out for his walk, she still wasn’t awake. He wondered what the point was of her asking for the key.

On Friday, the mock exam results came out. Overall, Jiang Mu was quite satisfied with her scores and ranking – forty-eighth in the grade and seventh in the class. This was unprecedented for her. At her previous school, where competition was fierce, she usually ranked within the top hundred, with her best performance being somewhere in the seventies.

However, she knew this wasn’t because her performance had suddenly improved after coming here, but rather due to the gap between schools.

Still, her ranking left Pan Kai and Yan Xiaoyi stunned. Pan Kai asked in disbelief, “Didn’t you only get three hundred something on the last college entrance exam?”

“…I’m from Jiangsu.”

For an education powerhouse province with a total college entrance exam score of 480, Jiang Mu’s lackadaisical three hundred plus points, though slightly below the tier-one university cutoff, didn’t make her a poor student.

Pan Kai immediately gained new respect for her three hundred points, while Yan Xiaoyi quietly said, “Let me copy your English practice book.”

Jiang Mu didn’t have grand ambitions or dreams of attending top universities like Tsinghua, Peking, Fudan, or Jiao Tong, so she was easily satisfied and felt she had performed quite steadily this time.

But that evening when Jin Chao went to the restroom to get something and glimpsed her mock exam papers, he casually picked them up, flipped through them, and suddenly said, “Do you want to enroll in some tutoring classes?”

The question stunned Jiang Mu. She asked in surprise, “Do you think… I did poorly?”

Jin Chao smiled, “Was it good?”

Jiang Mu felt like she’d taken a thousand-point hit. Her self-satisfaction from after school instantly vanished.

Jin Chao was naturally gifted. In Jiang Mu’s memory, he had never attended extra tutoring, and studying had always been effortless for him. He even had plenty of time left over to read and visit model shops.

As for her, from elementary through middle school, Jiang Yinghan enrolled her in training classes for almost every subject. She had put in countless hours of effort and pulled many all-nighters to maintain her position in the upper ranks.

But facing Jin Chao, she had to admit that sometimes the innate gap between people was quite large.

She thought of the school uniform she was wearing and asked him, “What competition did you win to get this uniform?”

Jin Chao pulled up a chair, took a pen, and tore off a piece of newspaper to put on the table, replying, “City physics competition trials.”

Jiang Mu remembered Yan Xiaoyi saying that only those who placed in the top three at the city level or above had gold trophies on their uniforms.

She couldn’t help asking, “So you were selected?”

Jin Chao just gave an “Mm” in response.

She continued, “Then what happened?”

“Nothing happened after that.”

His answer was quick and decisive as his pen moved rapidly across the paper.

Jiang Mu thought of his visit to the school a few days ago and tentatively asked, “So that physics teacher in second year…”

“He was the team leader for the city competition.”

Jiang Mu also recalled how Old Zhang from their class had stared at her uniform badge for a long time and inexplicably spouted some motivational words about perseverance and determination.

At the time, she thought the physics teacher was just being dramatic, but now thinking back, she felt Old Zhang’s words probably weren’t meant for her at all but rather reminded him of the uniform’s original owner.

Jiang Mu’s expression suddenly became serious. After hesitating for a long time, she asked solemnly, “Why… didn’t you take the college entrance exam back then?”

Jin Chao’s pen suddenly stopped, but only for a moment before he turned over the math paper and continued writing without pause.

Though he said nothing, Jiang Mu could feel a heavy, oppressive atmosphere emanating from him. As silence fell, she knew she had touched upon his most sensitive topic, and suddenly regretted asking.

Just as she was wracking her brain for ways to change the subject, Jin Chao suddenly straightened up and tossed the newspaper to her, saying, “Look this over first. Ask me if you don’t understand.”

Then he strode out.

Jiang Mu looked down to see the margins of the newspaper filled with dense formulas – solutions to all her wrong answers. As she gripped the paper, studying his fluid problem-solving approach, her heart tightened.

That night, she took off the uniform and folded it neatly beside her bed. After turning off the lights, she could still see in the darkness the golden trophy gleaming in the center of the school badge.

Jiang Mu suddenly realized this wasn’t just a uniform anymore, but Jin Chao’s former trophy. This battle garment with its special embroidered trophy now worn on her body made her feel unworthy, as if constantly reminding her that her abilities weren’t yet sufficient to match the glory this uniform represented.

She closed her eyes, and the world returned to a chaotic darkness. Her hearing became heightened, and her body felt like a feather floating in infinite space. Gradually, a tiny light appeared in the distance, growing more and more numerous. She saw many abstract, moving points of light, sketching out magnificent beams that illuminated her entire world. When she opened her eyes again, her future, confused for eighteen years, had found its direction. For the first time, she saw where her path should lead.