Chapter 62
The 21st Century English Speech Contest and the school's choir competition clashed on the same day. The speech contest was in the morning, and the choir competition was in the afternoon. If she was lucky and the timing was right, Jiang Jiawei could make it to the last choir competition of her high school career by making a daring round trip to the city in one day.
She was the only student from our school to advance to the city-level semi-finals, so Wang Ruping borrowed a car to take her to the competition.
The car was playing Fish Leong's "Ningxia." Although they were going to a competition, it was more like a short escape for the two girls. Teacher Wang described it this way partly to ease Jiang Jiawei's tension, but mostly because it reflected her true feelings.
A white trail was left in the soft blue sky, like a yogurt-flavored Alpenliebe candy.
Wang Ruping glanced at Jiang Jiawei, who was taking pictures of the airplane with her camera, and asked with a smile, "Have you ever flown on an airplane?"
Jiang Jiawei shook her head. "No."
"Then let's work hard and try our best to win this competition!"
Wang Ruping clenched her fist and gave Jiang Jiawei a thumbs-up.
Jiang Jiawei turned around, took a picture of her, and replied, "Okay."
Xu Zizhao and his band took over a job at a bar run by one of his brother's friends, working as resident singers. They rehearsed during the day and performed from 7 pm to 9 pm every night, keeping them busy throughout their holiday.
Mu Zhengxi filled his time with activities: spending mornings at the hospital, noon in the rehearsal room, and evenings as a spectator.
Seats were quickly booked for New Year's Eve. The restaurant, which usually doesn't get crowded until after 8 p.m., was already quite full before 7 p.m. The tables on the second floor were also full of reservation signs. People started to take their seats one after another, mostly young people, including couples who came to celebrate the New Year together.
Mu Zhengxi, who had been lounging on the sofa in the corner for a short nap, was woken up and felt a bit stuffy. He stood up, and his bodyguard immediately looked at him nervously and also stood up, but wisely kept a distance of two or three meters.
The second floor connects to a fairly large terrace, but with the snow and low temperature, the outdoor seating is essentially useless at this time of year.
The bar, located within the park, is surrounded by tranquility.
Inside the store, Xu Zizhao and his band took the stage. The dim caramel-colored lights made it look like a fairytale cottage in the night. The fireplace on the first floor was burning, creating a warm and lively atmosphere.
Amid the cheers inside, Mu Zhengxi turned his back to look into the distance, finding it hard to believe how fast time had flown by. It seemed like he had just seen Jiang Jiawei, a seventeen-year-old with a ponytail, in the photo yesterday.
The snowflakes weighed down the treetops, their weight exceeding their capacity, and fell vertically with a snap, as if the branches had broken.
Torrential rain swept through the area.
Fortunately, the choir competition started after it ended. Jiang Jiawei's class was originally drawn as the third to perform, but after discussing with Fang Caijuan and the other teachers, they were changed to the last. Jiang Jiawei rushed back from the city competition, changed her clothes, and went on stage. Fortunately, she didn't miss it.
After a whole day of being on high alert, I got caught in the rain, took a shower, and felt completely drained. My mind was filled with thoughts of the script and the choral piece, like a TV with a broken screen, constantly switching channels.
Sitting at her desk in the room, Jiang Jiawei stared blankly at the math test paper spread out on the table, unable to react for a long time.
The rain disrupted the New Year's Eve plans. The original class reunion was canceled, and Sister Zhenzhen's rooftop barbecue turned into a hot pot party at the restaurant.
Rain is also a good excuse to escape social situations, because if your clothes get wet from the rain, it's only natural to go home first to take a shower and rest.
Jiang Weichao made her a cup of cold medicine and placed it on the table. He touched her half-dry hair and said, "Dad will dry it for you so you don't catch a cold."
Jiang Jiawei sniffed and nodded slightly.
The heat from the cold medicine lingered around my nose and eyes; I couldn't tell if it was the water that was burning or my brain.
Jiang Weichao put away the hairdryer and took the cup that Jiang Jiawei had finished drinking from. "Go to bed early tonight and have a good rest during your holiday."
The person with water in their mouth nodded.
Jiang Weichao looked at his daughter, who had become noticeably thinner since entering her senior year of high school, with heartache. He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. Many times, late at night and before dawn, he would pass by her room, wanting to say something but afraid of discouraging her and holding her back. In the end, he would always say, "Don't work so hard, just do your best."
When the teacher called to congratulate him, as a father, he felt not only pride but also a deep sense of reluctance.
Jiang Jiawei called out, "Dad."
"Hmm? What's wrong? Are you hungry?"
"No."
"What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"
Jiang Weichao raised his hand to check her forehead temperature.
Jiang Jiawei shook her head and smiled, "I just wanted to call out to you."
Jiang Weichao gathered all the test papers on her desk and put them aside. "Go to sleep early. You've had a hard day. Get a good night's sleep and don't think about anything else. Don't do your homework either." Then he closed the window tightly and locked it.
It was time to get some sleep, otherwise such a long time would be too unbearable. Jiang Jiawei obediently got into bed and covered herself with the blanket.
Did Dad turn off the light for you?
"good."
The room darkened.
A sliver of light from the living room shone through the crack in the door.
Jiang Weichao went downstairs.
It's only eight o'clock, and Jiang Jiayi is still having hot pot with Zhenzhen and the others at their shop. The game hasn't even started yet.
Although I was supposed to be sleeping, even though my body was exhausted, when I lay in bed, my mind was like a tireless hamster on a running wheel, never stopping for a moment.
With my eyes closed, the math homework, the geography questions I didn't do well on yesterday's quiz, and the approaching final exams all play out in my mind. The time spent on the speech contest and the missed study schedule haven't spared me any peace.
Jiang Jiawei rolled out of bed; she had only been asleep for less than fifteen minutes.
I rubbed my face and turned on the desk lamp.
The living room phone rang.
Jiang Jiawei wasn't sure at first, so she put down her pen, listened quietly, and hung up when she got up and went to the living room to confirm.
The call log showed an unfamiliar number.
Jiang Jiawei placed her hand on the microphone and pressed the call-back button without hesitation. Her heart swelled like a balloon in her chest, squeezing her lungs and making each breath heavy.
"Hello."
bong.
The balloon overloaded, bursting the tear ducts, and tears burst forth from the eyes after accumulating.
The trembling breaths were clearly audible in the quiet snowy night.
Mu Zhengxi immediately realized, "Jiang Jiawei!"
"Is it you? Is it you? Is it really you???"
The realization that the person on the other end of the phone was Jiang Jiawei and the crying sound coming from Jiang Jiawei both rushed into Mu Zhengxi's mind, leaving him momentarily at a loss.
"You cried? Jiang Jiawei?"
He asked, "What happened???"
He then said, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."
The three words "I'm sorry" have become the on/off switch for sound.
Perhaps it was because of the rainy day, or perhaps it was because of feeling unwell, but the emotions that had been building up finally erupted at this moment.
The person gripping the microphone tightly in one hand covered their face with the other. Jiang Jiawei shook her head and said, "It's too difficult..."
"This is too difficult, Mu Zhengxi. The math problems are really too hard..."
I don't know why, but the tears just won't stop no matter how much I wipe them away.
"It's really, really hard..."
"Why...is it so hard to get into university..."
The person on the other end of the phone licked their lips and paced back and forth anxiously, repeatedly saying, "Don't cry, Jiang Jiawei, don't cry." They rambled on with incoherent words of comfort, "If it's too difficult, we won't take the exam. It's okay, Jiang Jiawei. You don't have to go to university. It's okay if you don't pass."
Tears welled up in the microphone and spread into my ears.
"Jiang Jiawei, I can't be by your side right now." Mu Zhengxi choked up as he painfully admitted the reality he had to face.
A tree that has halfway into adulthood is like a tree with height but no substance; when heavy snow falls, it can only protect itself.
At this moment, Mu Zhengxi realized with immense sorrow and clarity that what he thought was growth was nothing more than a university admission letter; apart from that, he was empty-handed and had nothing at all.
Jiang Jiawei sobbed and tried to control his emotions, explaining intermittently, "I lost my phone. I wanted to call you, but when I tried, your number was no longer in service."
"Maybe I wrote the number wrong."
Mu Zhengxi closed his eyes and bit his lower lip hard. He knew, he just knew.
She's not that kind of person; she'll definitely listen to his explanation.
Having such trust only makes me feel more ridiculous for my incompetence in the face of the current situation, and all I can do is offer a feeble apology.
"I'm sorry, Jiang Jiawei."
With so many apologies in her hand, even though she was wrong, Jiang Jiawei didn't know how to say it was okay, because she didn't need Mu Zhengxi's apologies in the first place.
How have you been lately? How is Grandma?
The salty taste seeped into the crease of my tightly pressed lips.
Mu Zhengxi chose to answer the second question.
"fine."
A rocky mountain collapsed; if I uttered even one more word, I might spit out fragments and be discovered.
After struggling to swallow, she still had to face another unavoidable fact, saying, "My mom, my mom..." She tentatively and cautiously asked, "Have you seen her?"
"Huh? No, I've never seen her before."
Jiang Jiawei on the other end of the phone sounded puzzled and confused by the question, which startled Mu Zhengxi, who suddenly couldn't quite understand the literal meaning of the sentence.
"Didn't my mother go to see you?"
Jiang Jiawei lowered her eyes, recalling the name of the scholarship recently established by the school, "Did your mother say anything?"
“No,” Mu Zhengxi denied outright. “She didn’t say anything, not a single thing.” Then his voice lowered as he said, “Even if she did say something, don’t believe her. My mother… she doesn’t understand me. She knows nothing. What she says doesn’t count.”
He sniffed and muttered complaints like a child, sounding quite aggrieved. Jiang Jiawei could almost picture Mu Zhengxi looking like that, and couldn't help but find it amusing.
Mu Zhengxi's thoughts were in a mess. Hearing the laughter, he wondered if there was something wrong with his head and asked blankly, "Are you laughing, Jiang Jiawei?"
The answer was affirmative.
"What are you laughing at?"
"It's funny that you're laughing at us, but why are you all crying?"
"I didn't cry."
Stubborn.
Jiang Jiawei didn't expose him. She squatted down on the floor next to the coffee table and said, "The New Year is almost here."
Mu Zhengxi responded with a low "hmm," his cotton-padded coat brushing against the edge of the terrace wall, and asked, "Who are you spending New Year's Eve with?"
"I'm home alone. We had a choir competition today, and the class was supposed to have a get-together, but it started raining heavily in the evening and we had to cancel. Where are you?"
Mu Zhengxi told her that he was at a bar. Why a bar? Because Xu Zizhao's band was performing there. He would go back to the hospital later and then go home.
Why is it so quiet?
"I'm on the terrace outside. It's snowing heavily in Hanyang."
Aren't you cold?
"It's not very cold."
He was originally a person who was more afraid of heat than cold.
Jiang Jiawei didn't ask him why he used this unfamiliar number to make the call, nor did she inquire about his sudden departure that day. He also didn't mention that Zeng Yuan had canceled his phone number and that he was currently under surveillance.
It's like walking at opposite ends of a drain, pretending not to see the sinking cracks, talking about big and small things that happened on an ordinary day, only that the accumulated situation of this day is more than ever before.
Therefore, it will take a long time to explain, so it needs to be explained all at once.
Otherwise, it will get moldy if left for too long.
The sound of rain replaced the sound of fireworks.
Jiang Jiawei took out a folded draft paper from under her pillow, looked at it in the moonlight outside the window, and slowly fell asleep.
It will be another nine months before autumn arrives, and the goldenrain trees at the school will once again bear beautiful pink fruits, just as Mu Zhengxi painted them.
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