MM | Chapter 38

Misunderstanding

The issue of living on campus didn’t go smoothly. As soon as it was brought up, it faced opposition from various people—specifically Sheng Mingyang, Jiang Ou, and the housekeeper Auntie Sun.

Sheng Mingyang made three video calls in a row. Sheng Wang answered one and hung up on the other two, yet he was still left with a buzzing headache from his dad’s nagging.

It was already 1 AM, and the “Health Encyclopedia” chat was anything but healthy, buzzing with new messages.

With his earphones in, Sheng Wang quickly went through the dozen or so voice messages. Being father and son, he could tell what his dad was going to say just from the start—

“Something must have upset my son, otherwise why would he suddenly want to live on campus?”

“Wang Zai, want to talk to Dad?”

“Don’t keep it bottled up. You can say anything. People your age always think parents are outdated and rigid, but that’s not entirely true.”

“Is it my fault or Aunt Jiang’s?”

…

Sheng Mingyang was a well-mannered man, and Sheng Wang had never seen him lose his temper with anyone. Yet, he was also very assertive, though this assertiveness was wrapped in gentle words, making it hard for most people to notice.

People dealing with Sheng Mingyang often found themselves unknowingly following his planned route. He could always persuade you, but it was hard to change his mind.

Just like now, he stubbornly believed his son chose to live on campus because he was upset, even though Sheng Wang had repeatedly said, “I’m not angry.”

Nothing worked. It seemed like if he didn’t agree with his dad, the nagging would never end.

The last voice message was 60 seconds long, and Sheng Wang cut it off after just five seconds.

He took off his earphones and tossed them on the table, feeling a surge of frustration. He leaned back in his chair for a while, finally unable to hold back.

Pressing the voice button, he said, “I told you it’s not because I’m angry. I’m not angry. Can you listen to me just once?”

Sheng Mingyang quickly replied, “I’m listening. You need to say it for Dad to know. Dad’s worried you’re unhappy.”

Sheng Wang’s irritation grew, but he was somewhat like Sheng Mingyang in that he wouldn’t lose his temper and shout—that would be too undignified.

Even now, his tone was just a bit heavier, his speech a bit faster.

“I’m small-minded and have a bad temper. I’ve been angry plenty of times before, and I’ve always told you. Did it ever change anything? I said I didn’t need a new family member, that I was fine on my own. You could do your work and travel, just let me know when you’re coming back, and I’d wait. Did you listen? You found Aunt Jiang.”

“Later, I said I understood. My mom is gone, and there are still decades ahead. I’ll grow up, date, and get married. You can’t be alone forever. You can find someone new, and I’ll accept it. Just don’t let her replace my mom. What happened? You let her live in the place I grew up, sleep in my mom’s room, use her kitchen, and make her favorite dishes.”

“You did it on purpose.”

“You deliberately found someone like my mom. You know I can’t do anything about it. As long as she’s nice, I can’t get mad at her. You calculated that I’d eventually accept her.”

“Fine, I’ve accepted it now.”

Sheng Wang still leaned back in his chair, the phone near his lips, his dark eyes staring at the light above.

To stay awake while studying, he had the housekeeper change the bulbs to cool light. He hadn’t noticed before, but now, staring at it for a long time, he realized how glaring the white light was.

It made his eyes swell, inexplicably turning red.

He said, “When I drank, she made me honey water. When I was sick, she found medicine for me. She learned to make things I hadn’t eaten in a long time. No one can replace my mom, but I can accept two more people in the house.”

“I told you I’m not annoyed with Aunt Jiang. I can treat her as family. Jiang Tian and I get along well, really well. I’m not mad at anyone. No one’s upset me. I just want to live on campus.”

“Can you, just this once, really listen to what I’m saying?”

He released the button, sent the last voice message, and then tossed the phone over his head. It traced an arc and landed silently on the bed, sinking deep into the covers, its vibrations now inaudible.

Sheng Wang stared at the light for a while, then closed his eyes and muttered, “Damn.”

Between him and Sheng Mingyang, it had always been the other person doing most of the talking. This was the first time it was reversed, and it was all over such a small matter as living on campus…

It seemed a bit melodramatic.

Talking to Sheng Mingyang like this made him feel a bit uncomfortable, but he couldn’t deny that amidst the discomfort, there was a sense of relief. It was like being trapped in a cramped bag for a long time and finally tearing a slit open.

*

Jiang Ou’s opposition was different from Sheng Mingyang’s. She felt too guilty towards Jiang Tian, and even her opposition was silent and timid.

Jiang Tian woke up in the middle of the night feeling thirsty and went downstairs with a glass of water, only to find the living room lit. Jiang Ou was curled up on the sofa, the floor lamp casting a warm glow over her. The TV was on, playing an old movie, with actors laughing and chatting, but the living room was silent.

Jiang Tian paused at the staircase.

He watched from a distance for a while, then walked over with his empty glass.

Hearing footsteps, Jiang Ou turned her head in confusion, taking a few seconds before saying, “Why are you up?”

“Yeah,” Jiang Tian replied, glancing at the TV. “Why are you sitting here?”

“Couldn’t sleep, just watching some TV,” Jiang Ou said softly.

“Watching TV with no sound?” Jiang Tian asked again.

“It’s a bit noisy,” Jiang Ou replied.

She was sitting on the long sofa, leaving a large empty space beside her. Jiang Tian bent down to set down his glass but sat in the single chair instead.

This was an instinctive move, not meant to make anyone uncomfortable. But precisely because of that, it hurt more.

Jiang Ou turned her head, quickly blinking away the moisture in her eyes. Once the feeling of bitterness subsided, she turned back to Jiang Tian and said, “Xiao Tian, is it hard to live here?”

Jiang Tian was silent for a moment. “The dorm is convenient.”

See, even when asked so directly, even when the answer was obvious, he chose words that wouldn’t hurt as much, though his tone remained stiff.

Jiang Ou stared at the silent images on the TV, her nose a bit red. After a long time, she spoke in a slightly hoarse voice, “I’ve been thinking for the past two years about how many things I did wrong before.”

“If I hadn’t been so stubborn, if we’d both taken a step back, or if I’d just given in a little more, been less busy, stayed home longer, not sent you to Grandma’s, spent more time with you, would things have been different?”

“I dreamt the other day, of you when you were little. Two or three years old? Just started kindergarten, right? I was so afraid of you looking at me back then. If you looked at me, I couldn’t leave. So every time I had to go out, I’d wait until you were asleep.”

Back then, Jiang Ou had a shirt with ribbons on the cuffs, usually tied in a knot. A few times, the knot mysteriously came undone, and she was puzzled.

Later, she found out it was Jiang Tian’s doing.

Jiang Tian was very young then. During nap time, she’d sit beside him, her hand resting next to him. Before closing his eyes, Jiang Tian would grab the ribbon and wrap it around his fingers.

When she first discovered this, Jiang Ou thought it was just a child’s sleeping quirk, needing to hold onto something.

One day, as she got up to leave while Jiang Tian was asleep, the ribbon tightened, about to slip from his grasp, and the sleeping child suddenly opened his eyes.

Only then did Jiang Ou realize it wasn’t a quirk. The child just wanted to hold onto her, wanted her to stay a little longer, wanted to know when she left, rather than waking up to find her gone.

Jiang Tian wanted to say, “I don’t remember,” but that would probably hurt her feelings, so he just pressed his lips together and listened quietly.

“Your Uncle Sheng told me stories about Sheng Wang as a child. Sometimes, when I listen, I feel like he was a bit like you when you were little. Maybe all kids are the same. He was raised that way, and I raised you this way.”

“Sometimes, when I see him chatting and joking with people, throwing little tantrums with his dad, I wonder if I’d raised you differently, would you be happier, smile more? Would you throw little tantrums and joke with me?”

Jiang Tian didn’t look at her.

He was never good at dealing with people on the verge of tears, especially Jiang Ou. His gaze fell on the TV screen, and after a moment of silence, he said, “No need to think about that.”

Jiang Ou suddenly stopped talking.

“You mentioned before that you wanted to get back to work,” Jiang Tian said. “That would be good.”

Jiang Ou didn’t speak for a while. She was inherently strong-willed, but life had worn her down, turning her from someone constantly on the go to someone who stayed home with the kitchen and TV.

“There’s always time to work,” she finally said. “I don’t want to see my son dragging a suitcase, moving somewhere else again.”

She said, “I’ve seen it too many times. It hurts.”

The living room fell silent again, the TV’s light flickering, characters coming and going.

“This time is different,” Jiang Tian finally looked away from the silent film.

Jiang Ou didn’t understand. She paused and asked, “What’s different?”

Jiang Tian glanced upstairs. “Not alone.”

This time, someone is with me.

*

Sheng Wang slept in until daylight, only finding his phone in the covers when the alarm went off. After a moment’s hesitation, he opened WeChat.

Sheng Mingyang, usually so chatty, hadn’t said a word all night. It wasn’t until this morning that he sent a “Okay.”

He said, “This time, I’ll listen to you.”

Their application for dormitory living was submitted late. The school said the first-year students were in military training, and two busloads of instructors were temporarily staying in the boys’ dorms, filling all available spaces. Once this round of training ended and rooms opened up, late applicants could move in.

So, they stayed in Baima Alley a little longer.

Sheng Mingyang finished some work and finally came back to rest for a few days. Father and son tacitly moved past that late-night voice message, each offering a halfway step, and their relationship was harmonious.

Jiang Ou and Jiang Tian also experienced some subtle changes, maintaining a different kind of balance.

Since the two youngsters were determined to live on campus, Jiang Ou no longer needed to stay home every day. She suggested she could help out again, and this time Sheng Mingyang took a step back. They arranged their schedules together. The boarding students at the affiliated high school had monthly breaks, and they just needed to be home during those days.

With less guilt, the time spent together seemed to increase.

This patched-together family seemed to have found the most suitable mode, even occasionally feeling a bit harmonious.

During this time, Sheng Wang was in a great mood, not just because of the improved family relations, but more because of Jiang Tian.

Since the day they decided to live on campus together, he and Jiang Tian had grown closer.

Of course, Jiang Tian, being used to his cold demeanor, wouldn’t wear “I’m happy” on his face. His words could still be sharp, and he remained as contrary as ever. But in small details, he showed a bit of indulgence, a subtle closeness.

Sheng Wang wasn’t sure if Jiang Tian was like this with Old Man Ding or the cat called “Captain,” but it felt different.

In any case, he enjoyed it.

When a young person is in a good mood, it shows in their brows and the corners of their mouth.

Gao Tianyang, who hung out with him every day, couldn’t help but notice. One time after running laps, he joked with Sheng Wang, “With your current state, in ancient times, it would be one of the four great joys: rain after a drought, meeting an old friend in a foreign land, wedding night, or passing the imperial exams. Which one is it for you, Sheng-ge?”

Sheng Wang was baffled.

Sweating from the run, he was about to grab Jiang Tian’s ice water and replied, confused, “What state? What are you talking about? Did you drink early in the morning? Why are you talking nonsense?”

Gao Tianyang, ever the fool, played along, pretending to be drunk on the spot.

That day, Sheng Wang didn’t understand what he meant. Not that it mattered—Gao Tianyang himself had just said it offhandedly.

The summer heat lingered long, humid and stifling, until a late September rain brought a sudden chill.

The first-year military training was wrapping up, taking over the field for a morning of demonstrations, their shouts echoing loudly. The second and third-year students had their morning exercises canceled for the day, many sipping drinks and watching the spectacle from outside the fence.

Sheng Wang went to Xi Le to buy water and was caught by Gao Tianyang and Song Sirui on his way back, dragged into the crowd to watch.

He wasn’t interested in the performance, glanced around, and then started texting Jiang Tian on WeChat.

Jiang Tian: The dorm is sorted.

Sticker: Really? How do you know?

Jiang Tian: Old He gave me the key.

Sticker: Which room?

Jiang Tian sent a picture of an envelope containing the key, with “Building 2, Room 601” written on it.

Sticker: …

Sticker: Do I not know what those words look like?

Sticker: I meant what does the dorm look like?

Jiang Tian: No idea.

Jiang Tian: You could skip the next physics class to check it out.

Sticker: …

Sticker: Do I have a death wish to skip physics?

Sticker: Since we have the key, when can we move in?

Jiang Tian: Tonight’s self-study.

Sheng Wang sent three head-banging rock emojis in a row.

In between chatting, he glanced up and met Song Sirui’s curious gaze, not just curious but with a hint of gossip.

Sheng Wang raised an eyebrow at him, then looked back at the field, quickly typing.

Sticker: Gao Tianyang and Old Song kidnapped me, forcing me to watch the military training performance.

Jiang Tian: What performance?

Jiang Tian: Black people goose-stepping?

He rarely joked, and Sheng Wang laughed for a while, about to reply when someone nudged his elbow.

“What?” Sheng Wang looked up to see Gao Tianyang clutching his head, saying, “Too late.”

The next second, a hand reached over from an odd angle, snatching Sheng Wang’s phone with lightning speed. Sheng Wang instinctively resisted, but failed, only managing to lock the screen.

Damn.

Big Mouth Xu!

The Political and Educational Office Director had appeared out of nowhere, holding Sheng Wang’s phone.

“Quite bold, aren’t you?” Big Mouth Xu sneered, “Showing off on the street, afraid I wouldn’t notice?”

Caught red-handed, excuses were useless.

Sheng Wang rubbed his nose, chuckling awkwardly, ready to admit his mistake.

Unexpectedly, Big Mouth Xu walked a few steps away from the crowd, beckoning him over. “Come here.”

Sheng Wang obediently followed, walking to a secluded corner across the tree-lined path before Big Mouth Xu stopped.

He stood with his hands behind his back, head slightly raised, scrutinizing Sheng Wang, making him uneasy.

“What’s the matter, teacher?”

“Are you in a relationship?” Big Mouth Xu asked seriously.

Sheng Wang: “Huh???”

Big Mouth Xu eyed him suspiciously, as if trying to spot a flaw. After a while, he softened his tone, “You’re at an age where everything is new and tempting, a bit naive. You’re good-looking, and it’s natural to attract attention. Some girls, being bold and rebellious, might show interest, and some might be outstanding.”

Sheng Wang was full of question marks.

Big Mouth Xu continued, “Teachers have been through this age too, and we understand. But—”

“Wait, teacher, hold on.” Sheng Wang interrupted, amused, “Did someone falsely report me? Why do you think I’m in a relationship?”

Big Mouth Xu squinted, “Who were you texting just now?”

Sheng Wang hesitated, “No one.”

Big Mouth Xu’s expression grew more complex.

Sheng Wang then said, “Jiang Tian.”

“Impossible, I’ve caught many early relationships.” Big Mouth Xu said confidently, “Don’t try to fool the teacher.”

Sheng Wang was stunned.

So Big Mouth Xu saw him texting and assumed he was in a relationship?

Realizing this, Sheng Wang found it absurd. But a few seconds later, his heart skipped a beat. It felt like missing a step on the stairs or having someone lightly tickle his palm.

“Unlock the phone and show me,” Big Mouth Xu held the phone out to him.

Sheng Wang’s fingers twitched at his side.

“Hurry up,” Big Mouth Xu urged.

Sheng Wang pressed a button, and the screen lit up, the WeChat chat box still open, the name clearly displayed at the top.

“Alright, it really is Jiang Tian.” Big Mouth Xu sighed in relief, “I wrongly accused you, but what I said can still serve as a reminder. Students should focus on their studies. You’re excellent, and I hope you can finish the last two years of high school smoothly and successfully, without distractions.”

His intentions were good, offering heartfelt advice before leaving with the phone.

But Sheng Wang didn’t move.

The wind swept down from the treetops, carrying the chill of early autumn.

Gao Tianyang jogged over from the field, patting Sheng Wang’s shoulder, “What are you daydreaming about, Sheng-ge? Did Big Mouth leave?”

“Hmm?” Sheng Wang snapped back, seemingly startled. But he quickly relaxed, saying, “Yeah, he’s gone.”