Tonggang didn’t have many official tourist attractions, but the Wuyin Temple was one of the few notable places. As their car passed the entrance to the scenic area, Jin Chao nudged Jiang Mu’s shoulder. She turned to look—the tall pagoda was covered in silvery snow, and behind it stood a mountain shrouded in mist, like something from a fairyland. The deep, resonant sounds echoing between the pagoda and valley carried far into the distance.
“What’s that sound?” she asked, turning back.
Jin Chao explained, “Bell tolls. Many people come to ring the bells for blessings on New Year’s Day.”
Even as the bus drove away, the echoing bells seemed to linger, bringing peace to their hearts.
At the veterinary hospital, two large red lanterns hung by the entrance, and festive Spring Festival couplets adorned the walls, though only one young woman was on duty inside.
Lightning’s recovery had progressed better than they’d expected. Perhaps because they hadn’t visited for two days, the little fellow was overjoyed to see them. Despite its broken leg, it managed to sit up, trying to poke its nose through the cage while wagging its tail non-stop. If the cage hadn’t been locked, it looked ready to jump straight into Jiang Mu’s arms.
Unable to bear its pitiful whining, Jiang Mu turned and tugged at Jin Chao’s sleeve, her voice soft: “Brother, it’s too sad to leave Lightning here for New Year’s.”
As if understanding her words, Lightning looked up at Jin Chao with a whimper. Both human and dog stared at him with watery eyes, leaving him no choice but to step aside and call Lightning’s doctor. Jiang Mu couldn’t hear their conversation, but after about ten minutes, Jin Chao hung up and turned to face her expectant gaze.
The afternoon sun illuminated Jin Chao from behind as he stood there, his features handsome and gentle in the backlight. He told her, “We’re taking Lightning home.”
“Wow!” Jiang Mu threw her hands up in excitement, smiling at Lightning. “We can go home now!”
Lightning, seemingly infected by Jiang Mu’s joy, responded with two excited barks while furiously wagging its tail.
Jin Chao went to handle the discharge procedures with the nurse on duty, carefully noting down medication instructions and dosages, and confirming follow-up appointment times. Once all the paperwork was complete, they carried Lightning’s large cage back to the auto repair shop.
Back in familiar surroundings, Lightning noticeably relaxed, though when it tried to leave its cage, its injured leg made movement difficult.
Jin Chao laid out a soft cushion and gently lifted Lightning’s large body onto it. When Jiang Mu crouched down to give it medicine, Lightning shied away from the medicine packet, refusing to cooperate.
Jiang Mu looked up helplessly at Jin Chao, who took the medicine and sat down on the cushion, cradling Lightning’s large head in his arms while Jiang Mu watched from a small stool nearby.
Jin Chao patiently coaxed Lightning to take its medicine, the overhead light creating halos around his crown, softening his entire appearance.
She had been the same way as a child—afraid of medicine and its bitterness. Whenever she got sick, she’d cry and fuss, making taking medicine harder than climbing mountains. Jiang Yinghan would work up a sweat trying to get her to drink simple syrup. Jin Chao would trick her by saying the medicine would give her superhuman strength, demonstrating by drinking some himself and then lifting storage boxes.
She had believed him completely, drinking the medicine through her tears and then demanding to lift boxes too. Jin Chao would secretly empty the boxes before letting her try.
That deception had continued for several years, with him sharing bitter medicine with her all that time. But who likes taking medicine? Even Lightning didn’t. Jiang Mu gazed at Jin Chao’s profile as he bent over, feeling the warmth spread through her heart.
After successfully giving Lightning its medicine, Jin Chao got up to organize things while Lightning lay back down. He went to the break room to sort and label the medicines, placing them carefully on the shelf. Jiang Mu sat nearby, chin in hands, watching. When he went to get water to boil for Lightning, she followed, clutching his shirt hem as they walked to the courtyard. After plugging in the kettle in the break room, he finally turned to look at her and said, “If you come tomorrow, bring your workbooks. I’m off these few days and can help you with some problems.”
Jiang Mu instantly deflated and stopped following him.
Jin Chao set up an electric stove in the courtyard to cook several dishes. It was too cold outside for Jiang Mu, so she took off her shoes and peered through the window.
Whenever Jin Chao looked up, he could see her hungry expression—just like when she was little, always hanging around the kitchen door after school, sometimes trying to steal a piece of meat until Jiang Yinghan would smack her hand away.
He picked up a piece of braised beef and brought it to the window. Jiang Mu opened it and leaned out, and Jin Chao fed her the meat.
The tender, fragrant meat melted in her mouth, instantly awakening her taste buds. Jin Chao closed the window for her, and Jiang Mu gave him an emphatic thumbs-up before he returned to plate the dishes.
Jiang Mu put her shoes back on and went out to meet him.
Jin Chao had already set up the folding table in the repair shop, and Jiang Mu brought two chairs from the break room, arranging them face to face.
Though there were only four dishes, nothing like the elaborate New Year’s feasts in other homes, it was quite luxurious for Jiang Mu. There was meat, fish, and her favorite sweet rice cakes—something she hadn’t eaten in several years, not since Jiang Yinghan used to make them.
The rice cakes were sliced, dipped in special batter, and fried until crispy on the outside and chewy inside—delicious. But Jiang Yinghan would never let her eat too many, saying they were hard to digest.
She never imagined that years later, in the far north, on this freezing New Year’s Day, she would taste these flavors of home again.
She looked up at Jin Chao and asked, “How do you know how to make these?”
Jin Chao smiled faintly, opening a drink for her and a beer for himself, but didn’t answer her question.
As Jiang Mu kept eating piece after piece, Jin Chao switched the positions of the fish and rice cakes, saying, “That’s enough. You can’t make a meal of just these.”
Jiang Mu blurted out, “You’re just like Mom.”
Jin Chao lowered his head, gripping his beer can and taking a silent sip. Jiang Mu realized something, her heart suddenly tightening, and said softly, “Actually, that drive device… Mom didn’t throw it away…”
It was a motorized device Jin Chao had made in fourth grade, with a specially crafted beautiful shell. He’d driven it to Jiang Yinghan’s feet that Mother’s Day, but she hadn’t noticed and stepped on it. When she picked it up, she’d scolded him, telling him not to play with such things at home—what if someone tripped?
Jiang Mu had given Jiang Yinghan a greeting card she’d made with her kindergarten teacher, and Mom had praised her work, displaying it on the living room wall. It was the first time she’d seen hurt in her brother’s eyes, though she couldn’t understand it then.
Later, Jin Chao repaired the damaged device, but couldn’t take it with him when he and Jin Qiang left Suzhou. Jiang Mu had assumed it was long gone until they moved houses and she found it in a box while organizing the new home. When she showed it to Mom, Jiang Yinghan stared at it for a long while before saying, “Throw it away.”
But Jiang Mu hadn’t thrown it away—she’d kept it secretly.
She hadn’t told Jin Chao about this before, unsure if it would bring him any comfort. He just listened quietly, showing no expression.
Jiang Mu raised her drink to him and said, “Brother, happy New Year. May everything go smoothly for you, and may you find peace and joy.”
Jin Chao clinked his beer against her drink, and Jiang Mu asked, “Don’t you have any wishes for me?”
Jin Chao’s dark eyes held a faint light as he gazed at her steadily, then spoke: “May you succeed in your studies and have a bright future.”
The main light in the repair shop was off, with only a small lamp lit. They sat facing each other, with Lightning lying quietly beside them, occasionally wagging its tail and lifting its head to show a tongue-lolling smile. For Jiang Mu, this was the most special New Year’s ever—just her, Jin Chao, and Lightning.
Though their surroundings were humble—she had nothing, he was in debt, and Lightning was covered in wounds—he still managed to provide shelter for her and Lightning.
Despite the lack of candles, and despite how later in life Jiang Mu would travel far and wide tasting the world’s finest delicacies, this night remained her only true understanding of what a “candlelit dinner” meant romantically.
After dinner, Jiang Mu volunteered to wash the dishes, but Jin Chao, unable to bear the thought of her delicate hands in the cold water, told her to wait nearby. She did exactly that, standing beside him as he washed while she dried and put away the dishes. Several times, Jin Chao caught glimpses of her focused expression from the corner of his eye. Though it was just one extra person beside him, somehow this New Year felt extraordinarily lively.
As he put away the last plate and turned to dry his hands, he asked her, “Want to go ring the bell?”
Jiang Mu’s face lit up with a smile. “At Wuyin Temple? Can we still go now?”
Jin Chao walked inside, saying, “Why not? It’s lit up at night, and there are usually lots of people.”
The prospect of an outing excited Jiang Mu again. She circled Jin Chao happily, urging him to hurry. Jin Chao gave Lightning some water and patted its head reassuringly before getting up to put on his coat.
Jiang Mu also bent down to rub Lightning’s forehead, saying, “Be good, okay?”
Lightning responded with a “woof” and lay back down.
However, just as they left the shop, they ran into San Lai, who was returning from visiting relatives. He wore an ostentatious black fur coat with a bright red cashmere scarf, and a round felt hat—probably to keep his newly shaved head warm. When Jiang Mu saw him step out of his car, her eyes widened in disbelief, thinking he looked like Xu Wenqiang incarnate.
Upon seeing them heading out, San Lai enthusiastically asked where they were going. When he heard they planned to visit Wuyin Temple to ring the bell, he insisted on joining them and volunteered to drive.
There weren’t many places to go in Tonggang during New Year’s, so many people headed to Wuyin Temple after dinner. Even before reaching the destination, cars were lined up in long queues. San Lai’s car played New Year’s songs on repeat—”New Year’s Ode,” “Happy and Prosperous,” “Gong Xi Fa Cai”—until Jin Chao, getting a headache, asked him to turn it off. San Lai refused and even started singing along. Jiang Mu sat in the back, laughing non-stop. When San Lai reached the chorus, he turned around and pointed at Jiang Mu to continue. She picked up the song without missing a beat, and Jin Chao could do nothing but watch their antics, though at least it made the long wait in line less tedious.
After finally parking, Jin Chao bought three tickets on his phone, only to find another queue at the entrance. Several long lines were packed with people—families and friends visiting together. Many groups split up among different lines, ready to converge wherever moved fastest.
Being small, Jiang Mu could barely see anything in the crowd and kept getting jostled. Jin Chao moved her to his left side, while San Lai instinctively positioned himself on her other side. Protected between them, she wasn’t pushed around again until they reached the entrance.
Inside, a wide pathway opened up, lined with lanterns of various designs. Many people gathered to take photos, but despite the crowds, the three of them drew an unusually high number of stares.
San Lai’s flamboyant, dashing outfit created a stark contrast with Jin Chao’s sharp, cool demeanor, and between them stood a captivating young woman—their striking appearances instantly became a scenic highlight of their own.
Jiang Mu and Jin Chao remained oblivious, discussing whether to explore first or go straight to ring the bell, but San Lai had already noticed the numerous gazes directed their way. Feeling quite pleased with himself, he declared, “With our superior looks, we’d be wasting our potential not forming a group. I’ve even thought of a name—the Tongren Three. How cool is that?”
Jin Chao and Jiang Mu silently looked at him, then deliberately stepped a little distance away, reluctant to acknowledge any association.
When they went to burn incense, San Lai became like an agitated lion at the incense-lighting station, shouting, “Be careful with those sticks, don’t burn my fur!”
His outburst drew countless stares—people had probably never seen someone wearing full fur come to burn incense. Finding him peculiar, they gave him a wide berth. San Lai leaned over to whisper to Jiang Mu, “See? Now no one will crowd us—they’re afraid they’ll have to pay for damages.”
Jiang Mu quickly stepped away from San Lai too, switching her lit incense to her other hand. “I’m also afraid of having to pay.”
San Lai lifted his chin. “You wouldn’t have to pay—your brother would.”
Jin Chao quietly uttered one word: “Scram.”
Jiang Mu followed San Lai and Jin Chao’s example, bowing in four directions around the incense burner. She secretly opened one eye to see Jin Chao holding his incense with furrowed brows, then glanced at San Lai, who was muttering something with his eyes closed. When San Lai finished and noticed her watching, he told her, “Don’t just bow—you need to pray for blessings. Speak your wishes and ask for protection.”
So Jiang Mu raised her incense to her forehead and silently recited a long list of wishes. Her wishes must have been numerous because when she opened her eyes, Jin Chao and San Lai had been waiting for her for quite a while. She turned to place her incense on the burner.
They entered the main hall, where Jin Chao gave her some coins for offerings. Jiang Mu discovered many deity statues, each with kneeling cushions in front. San Lai immediately made a beeline for the God of Wealth, which had the longest line of worshippers, all tossing coins into the donation box after paying respects.
Jiang Mu didn’t recognize many deities, but she paid her respects to all the ones she could name. When Jin Chao and San Lai found her, she was kneeling devoutly before Yue Lao, the God of Marriage. Soft light enveloped her as she knelt with closed eyes, her peaceful, gentle face bearing an earnest expression that made others hold their breath, reluctant to disturb her.
When she opened her eyes and dropped her handful of coins into the donation box, she rose to find Jin Chao and San Lai watching her from the hall’s back door. Seeing she had finally finished, San Lai couldn’t help teasing, “My, my, such a long private chat with the Marriage God? I didn’t know our little Mu Mu had someone special in mind!”
Jiang Mu’s face instantly flushed red. Her gaze darted across Jin Chao’s face before meeting San Lai’s teasing expression as she protested, “Don’t talk nonsense! There’s nothing like that!”
She walked past them, pretending to be casual, but her eyes strayed to Jin Chao’s face again. He wore a subtle smile, and Jiang Mu wondered if he was laughing at her like San Lai was. She only knew that on this night, her heart had been quietly set aflame.