TSDT - 38

In her small apartment, Jiang Ying finished organizing today’s documents and tomorrow’s to-do list. Her body, warmed by a hot shower, began to feel cold again.

Puzzling.

She was wearing her usual fluffy pajamas, so why did it feel colder than before?

Could it be that with one less person in the house, the lower carbon dioxide content made such a big difference?

She stopped fighting the cold and snuggled into bed with her electronic device.

Jiang Ying had recently been following a weekly costume fantasy drama. It told the story of a prince who was framed and murdered, lost his memory, became a slave in another country, and then fell in love and fought with his master.

Currently, the show was at the point where the male lead regained his princely memories, reclaimed his national treasure, and triumphantly returned home, but then lost his memories from his time as a slave. The female lead then infiltrated his country, attempting to awaken his memories.

It really is a fantasy drama, Jiang Ying thought, utterly confused.

She couldn’t help but think of the other viewer who usually sat beside her. After dinner, they would typically sit side by side, each on their own computer. Meng Jingshu would glance at her a few times between work, picking up scattered plot points but asking many questions.

“Who’s the male lead, exactly?”

“Why did he run away from home?”

“Doesn’t this person like the female lead? Why is he marrying the princess?”

“Why did they both get married?”

Jiang Ying would retort impatiently: “Are you an idiot? You can’t even understand such a simple plot.”

But now, she herself was confused.

Good thing he’s not here, otherwise I wouldn’t have the nerve to mock him.

________________________________________

Sigh...

What was he doing? He didn’t even say when he’d be back...

With that distraction, Jiang Ying completely lost track of the screenwriter’s convoluted plot. She simply gave up watching, turned off the player, but suddenly felt a bit lost.

Unconsciously, she opened a web page. The cursor blinked in the search bar. She pursed her lips and typed in “Meng Jingshu.”

Quite a few results popped up.

The first was an essay by a person with the same name, shared on a Sina blog. The writing style was seasoned and the language ornate. Jiang Ying knew with a glance that it wasn’t him. Back when she graded his papers, she saw his essays often. Each time, he’d fit arguments and evidence into the same model, making bluntness and straightforwardness an art form, but impeccably so.

The second entry was the corporate profile of Shufeng Technology, his name resting in the shareholder column, utterly uninteresting.

Scrolling down, there were many news articles about his competition awards.

One of them was from a city league during high school. Below the news article, there was surprisingly an old, low-resolution photo. He had won first place, standing with the second and third place winners to receive the award. Before that competition, their old class teacher had repeatedly reminded them, not to cheer him on, but just to order him to wear his school uniform properly, no fancy business, absolutely not allowing rival schools to overshadow their school’s rigorous academic atmosphere. So, it was rare to see the young man in the photo wearing a complete set of blue and white school uniform, with the zipper pulled all the way up above his collarbone, neat and tidy, youthful and handsome. The corner of his mouth was crooked in a cocky smile; that kind of pride and vigor radiated.

Even after all this time and so many events, Jiang Ying was still touched. She smiled calmly, gratified by her excellent taste.

She wanted to see other video materials but couldn’t find any.

Jiang Ying pouted, intrigued, and started searching for her own name.

Quite a few results came up. The most concise one was their law firm’s entry. She clicked in, and her high-definition professional photo in formal wear greeted her.

“...”

That smile looks too fake.

Why does searching for him yield blurry handsome photos, but for me, it’s a high-definition, uncensored dull photo?

Unfair.

A thought struck her, and she searched for “Shufeng Technology.”

She actually found a news article from this year’s Internet Technology Ecosystem Conference, which even included an interview video from just last month.

Jiang Ying pulled her fluffy hood over her head, curled her legs tighter, and raised the tablet higher before pressing play.

“Shufeng Technology provides professional IT systems and overall industrial intelligent manufacturing solutions and services. We always focus on the deep integration of cutting-edge technology and client business areas, dedicated to developing application systems and related technical consulting, database research and development...”

He spoke eloquently to the camera, his style consistent with the past—unadorned, plain and understated yet concise and clear.

The cameraman also favored him, finding excellent angles and lighting. Jiang Ying couldn’t help but compare in her mind; she feared that even the “Four Beauties” of a certain forum, whom she had been extremely obsessed with back then, would be no match for him now.

Towards the end of the short, few-minute interview, the reporter routinely asked if Shufeng would consider developing into other fields in the future.

Meng Jingshu smiled slightly, and slowly said: “Technology is advancing day by day, and it has already permeated all industries. Shufeng is young and free, and does not reject any possibilities.”

The video ended on this moment, as he gazed into the camera, a faint curve on his lips.

It overlapped with that young man from back then.

Jiang Ying’s eyes suddenly welled up.

How wonderful.

He was so brilliant and confident, an elite in the eyes of others, seemingly out of reach through the screen. Yet, in reality, they were so intimate. She knew his past, his defiance, his many flaws. She knew he had a bad temper, was lazy in daily life, and would forget to throw out the trash when asked three times out of one.

She also knew his good qualities. She knew he always had a touch of wild arrogance, a “I’ll do whatever I want” kind of pride. His arrogance stemmed from his abilities, his courage, his self-discipline. When caught playing games, as dorm leader, he took the blame for the entire dorm and read a self-criticism in front of the whole school without flinching; he played, played ball, and competed without falling behind, always finding time to catch up on his studies, never dropping out of the rankings; even if he snuck out to play every day, he always made sure to be on time, never late. Whatever he wanted to do, he would always try his best to do it perfectly.

When did she first start liking him?

She couldn’t remember.

Emotion isn’t a faucet; there’s no clear on/off switch. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment this impulsive crush began. She only knew that with each passing moment, it accumulated little by little, until she realized that he had become the embodiment of all her fantasies.

It wasn’t just the kind of liking where you want to date, hug, and kiss.

It was about chasing him, wanting to be like him: free, confident, someone who could control their own life.

________________________________________

Nanqing City has been consistently warm recently, unaffected by the quasi-stationary front, with alternating cloudy and clear skies—a good weather overall.

Wenyang Private Hospital.

The two men of the Meng family were in the waiting room, waiting for the doctor to conduct a routine check-up on Old Mrs. Meng.

“You should persuade your grandmother. She’s so stubborn at her age. Although it’s just pneumonia and low blood pressure, she’s in her eighties, after all, and she insists on staying in the old house by herself. What if something bad happens? How will we, her children, live with ourselves then? Now she doesn’t want to be hospitalized, insisting on going home. Your eldest aunt is busy with company matters all day, your second aunt has to look after her sister, and the fourth child is never home. Who can visit her at the old house every day? Grandma has always doted on you. Now we’re entrusting you with this family task, and you must achieve it.”

Meng Julai, having spent a long time in official circles, naturally carried an air of command in his speech and actions.

“Second Uncle,” Meng Jingshu said languidly, “If you couldn’t achieve it, how is it a must for me?”

“You’re the only one in the family who can persuade the old lady. No excuses allowed.” Meng Julai cleared his throat, lowering his voice slightly. “Didn’t you ask your friend to investigate someone yesterday?”

Meng Jingshu chuckled: “You found out so quickly?”

Meng Julai smiled casually: “Director Liang and I have a good relationship.” He then added, “The person isn’t nameless either. What do you intend to do?”

“It’s a private matter of mine; I won’t disclose him to others.”

Meng Julai nodded: “Pay attention to discretion. I’ll put in a word for you later.”

“Alright. You can tell Aunt Zhai to pack Grandma’s luggage in a bit.”

Meng Julai chuckled.

“Oh, by the way, is your small company short on cash? You have an uncle...”

“Never mind, Second Uncle,” Meng Jingshu was always unconstrained, respectful but fearless towards elders, “Favors are hard to repay; we have our own ways.”

Meng Julai was used to his nephew’s demeanor and wasn’t annoyed, only saying, “Alright, I know you’re capable.”

He took a sip of his goji berry tea from his thermos, filled with emotion: “If only your brother had half your independence and ambition, your second aunt and I would be at ease.”

Meng Jingshu smiled faintly, saying nothing.

The doctor pushed open the door from the ward and told them, “The indicators are stable. After the injection, we’ll check again, and if there are no problems, she can be discharged. The nurse will come shortly to explain the precautions. Rest assured, Old Meng, the important thing for the elderly is recuperation. If you let her have her way and she’s happy, her body will recover faster.”

Meng Julai was well acquainted with this doctor. He waved to Meng Jingshu, signaling him to complete his task, while he himself chatted with his old friend for a few minutes.

Around ten in the morning, the thin mist dispersed, and gentle sunlight enveloped them. Meng Jingshu pushed the wheelchair, taking the old lady out to bask in the sun.

He wasn’t one for beating around the bush; he directly and dryly stated his aunt and uncle’s intentions, adding his own comment: “I think they’re right.”

Grandma didn’t strongly object as she did with her daughter and sons. Instead, she was silent for a while, as if deep in thought.

Meng Jingshu asked, “If you don’t say anything, I’ll take that as a ‘yes’?”

The old lady slapped his hand: “Didn’t you already conspire with your second uncle, saying to have Aunt Zhai pack the luggage?”

Meng Jingshu laughed: “Are you really eighty? Your hearing makes even a twenty-year-old blush with shame.”

“Nonsense!” Though she said that, Grandma’s face was lined with smiles.

“I’ll inform Second Uncle now.”

“Wait, let me ask you something first.” The old lady smoothed her gray hair, her face full of inquiry.

“What is it?”

Grandma beckoned him to squat down.

“What’s with this scarf? You’ve said since childhood that it felt constricting, that you wouldn’t wear high-collars or scarves, and that you weren’t cold even when the wind went straight down your neck. Now, huh? I haven’t seen you take it off these past two days.”

Meng Jingshu froze under his grandmother’s sharp gaze, then a smile involuntarily spread across his face, but he said nothing.

Like a child whose secret little thoughts have been exposed by an adult, he suddenly didn’t know how to cope.

“Got a girlfriend? She gave it to you?” The octogenarian discerned everything.

He nodded: “A birthday gift.”

“Isn’t your birthday still not here?”

“Young people these days celebrate the Gregorian calendar,” Meng Jingshu said, “I even forgot, but she remembered.”

“Oh... is that so,” Grandma smiled sweetly: “The young lady has a thoughtful heart.”

She reached out and touched it—a classic plaid cashmere scarf, dark gray with streaks of off-white and deep red.

“It’s very nice; the color and style suit you.”

“Of course.”

Grandma looked at her youngest grandson, then suddenly changed the subject: “Is this for real this time, not just to fool me?”

“Of course it’s real,” Meng Jingshu raised an eyebrow, “When have I ever fooled you?”

“That little Fu before wasn’t. Don’t think I don’t know... Back then, your grandpa had just passed away, and I nagged you a lot. You couldn’t stand seeing me sad all day, so you brought a girlfriend home, wanting to comfort me, right? I thought then that you had committed to her.”

Meng Jingshu froze, and after a few seconds, said: “I thought her personality was quite good; you would probably like her.”

“Silly boy! Grandma wants you to have someone in your heart, someone who can stay by your side for a long time. It has to be someone you truly want to be with, not just to make me happy!”

He sincerely replied: “I understand.”

The old lady gently patted his shoulder. She had watched this tiny baby grow day by day, becoming so tall and strong-shouldered. She still had many worries, fearing that when she passed away someday, her youngest grandson would still be alone, without anyone to cherish him.

“In a lifetime, it doesn’t matter how many people pass by your side. What matters is whether there’s someone in your heart. If your heart is empty, then no matter how much money you have, or how great your achievements are, it will all be loneliness, all suffering. Grandma doesn’t want you to suffer.”

“Your second uncle has asked me to move in with him many times. Do you know why I’ve never agreed?”

“You find that there are no acquaintances to walk and chat with over there.” Meng Jingshu understood this point very well.

Grandma Meng slapped his hand again.

“That’s secondary. I want to always keep a home for you,” Grandma said with a little force in her voice, “I want there to always be someone waiting for you at home, no matter when you return. This house, your grandpa’s and mine, will always be your home for you.”

Unexpectedly, it was such a profound statement.

He thought he had become numb to his grandmother’s nagging over the years. But at this moment, many emotions rushed to his throat, yet he couldn’t utter a single word.

“As long as you want me to, I’ll never leave.” The old lady choked slightly, “Although I’m old, my hands and feet are still nimble. I don’t need them to watch me like a child every day.”

Meng Jingshu held his grandmother’s aged hand, his lips pressed together, and he smiled.

“I know you care for me, but your eldest aunt and second uncle also care for you. I can’t come back often, so what are you doing staying home by yourself? Grandma...” He paused slightly, “You’re not just my grandma alone.”

The old lady wiped her eyes: “Alright, I’ll listen to you. God bless, Xiaoshu has truly grown up...”