Almost reflexively, he slammed the tray heavily onto the desk with a dull thud, took a few quick strides to the bedside, and spoke in a low, urgent voice, carrying a sternness he himself hadn’t even realized:
“Ji Mianmian! Get up right now!”
“Hmm… what’s wrong…”
Startled awake, Mianmian opened her eyes drowsily, her gaze still hazy with sleep and misted with moisture, looking up at Jiang Yu’an’s tense face with confusion and innocence.
Not fully awake yet, she instinctively rubbed her eyes—a childish gesture that caused her already loose collar to slip open a little more.
Jiang Yu’an abruptly averted his gaze, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently, his tone growing even harsher, almost fierce:
“Who the hell told you to sleep here?”
“No one… I was tired, so I lay down for a bit…”
She rubbed her eyes, her voice soft and slightly nasal from sleep.
“Do you even know you shouldn’t just sleep on a man’s bed?” His tone carried a frustration he couldn’t understand himself.
This sudden scolding completely chased away Mianmian’s drowsiness. Hurt, embarrassment, and the pride she always raised when offended made her eyes instantly redden, but she stubbornly refused to let the tears fall.
“Senior, why are you being so harsh? Back in middle school, when Teacher Zhao and Uncle Jiang were busy, you even went to parent-teacher meetings for me, remember? You said you were like half a guardian to me. In my heart, you’re no different from the elders I respect. I was just too tired from studying and lay down here for a while. What’s wrong with that?”
Jiang Yu’an’s inexplicable anger flared even hotter, yet he was left speechless.
The sight of this person sitting on his bed in her nightgown made her feel nothing like a junior in his eyes.
A burning sensation churned in his throat, finally erupting into an even rougher command:
“Enough! I said no, and that’s final! Get off the bed!”
Mianmian pressed her lips together, offering no further argument. She pushed back the covers, got out of bed, and stepped barefoot onto the cool floor. Silently, she walked back to the desk, sat down with her back to him, her straight spine betraying a stubborn sense of grievance.
The air was filled with the gradually cooling aroma of noodles, along with a thicker, more lingering awkwardness and silence.
Jiang Yu’an stood where he was, glancing at the slight indentation on the bed where she had just lain—still bearing faint wrinkles and a trace of warmth. He felt the restless frustration in his chest lingering stubbornly.
In the end, he could only run a hand through his hair irritably and say hoarsely:
“…The noodles are getting cold. Eat up, then get back to studying.”
The night before the college entrance exam, Mianmian was too nervous to sleep.
At one in the morning, she got up to use the bathroom and noticed a note slipped under her door.
She bent down, picked it up, and unfolded it.
【Little one, don’t panic. You’ve already fought the good fight; you’ve already run the long race.
Tomorrow, when you enter the exam hall, just treat it like any other practice test.
Oh, and for the first subject, Chinese—don’t write your essay too long. A thousand words is enough. If you write more, the graders won’t bother reading it all.
If you encounter a tough math problem, skip it first. Don’t get stuck.
After the exam, don’t check the answers. It’ll just affect your mood.
Now, relax and sleep. I’m right next door, with you. Always.
Jiang Yu’an】
Holding that note, she slept peacefully.
She knew that, for over three years now, this person had always been there.
On the day the college entrance exam results were released, it was Teacher Zhao who checked the scores.
Mianmian sat on the sofa, appearing calm on the surface, but her palms were drenched in sweat. Father Jiang paced back and forth beside her, even more nervous than she was. Jiang Yu’an leaned against the wall, holding a magazine in his hand, but hadn’t turned a page for a long time.
Teacher Zhao stared at the computer screen, remaining silent for what felt like an eternity.
Then she suddenly jumped up and let out a scream:
“It’s blocked! Mianmian! Your college entrance exam scores and ranking have been blocked!”
She rushed over and hugged Mianmian tightly, her voice trembling with emotion: “Good girl! You’re really my good girl! You’ve made us so proud!”
Father Jiang slapped his thigh beside them, grinning from ear to ear. Teacher Zhao was shouting and jumping around, completely unlike the stern dean she usually was.
Mianmian was hugged so tightly she could barely breathe, but she couldn’t help smiling.
She knew she had done well—she had a rough idea when estimating her scores. But seeing the actual result, the tension that had built up over the past three years finally released completely.
That evening, the phone at home was flooded with calls from admissions offices of two universities.
Teacher Zhao discussed with her: “Where do you want to apply, Mianmian? T University or P University?”
Mianmian said: “F University in our city is good enough. It’s close to home, so I can come back to see you every week. I don’t want to be too far from you and Uncle Jiang.”
Teacher Zhao couldn’t help but feel her nose sting. After wearing a Kevlar bulletproof vest for half her life, she finally understood what it felt like to have a caring little daughter.
She asked again: “Applying to F University is a bit of a waste of your scores, but you can choose any major you want. What do you want to study?”
Mianmian said: “Architecture.”
Teacher Zhao was taken aback: “Why architecture? The most profitable era of the infrastructure industry is almost over.”
Mianmian said: “I’m good at math and physics, and I like photography and painting. Architecture combines liberal arts, sciences, and art—it suits me.”
What she didn’t say was that F University’s architecture program was the only major this year with an admission score higher than clinical medicine.
It was because she wanted to prove that she could do better than him.
When Jiang Yu’an returned home, he asked her: “I heard you applied to F University?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You’ve got good taste, kid. We’ll be alumni then, little junior.”
Mianmian looked at him bravely: “Didn’t you say F University has fast internet? I want to try it out.”
He laughed even louder. After laughing, he suddenly turned serious and looked at her intently.
“Mianmian, you know I’ll graduate with my Ph.D. in a little over a year, right?”
“I know.”
“You know I’ll work at F University’s affiliated hospital after graduation, right?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You know if you go there, we can see each other every day, right?”
Her face flushed: “…I know.”
He leaned in closer, so close she could see the curve of his eyelashes:
“Then do you know that ever since the first day you came to my house, I’ve had something to tell you—and I’ve waited three years for it?”
Her heart raced: “Why did you wait?”
“Afraid it would affect your studies, of course. Your Teacher Zhao would have killed me otherwise,” he said with a mischievous grin.
Mianmian heard her own voice tremble slightly: “…So, what is it you wanted to say?”
He spoke slowly, word by word, as if deliberately teasing her:
“Ji Mianmian, you—”
“—are too short. Remember to eat more and exercise more after starting university. Maybe you can still grow a few more centimeters.”
Mianmian froze for a few seconds before suddenly grabbing a cushion from the sofa and throwing it at him.
He had been prepared, dodging aside as the cushion hit the sofa and bounced off. She grabbed another one and chased after him, hurling it.
He dodged while laughing, “Hey, hey! Wasn’t I telling the truth? Look at you, skinny as a bean sprout—I’m just looking out for you!”
She chased him all around the living room, her face flushed red.
Father Jiang and Teacher Zhao peeked out from the kitchen, saw the scene, shook their heads with a smile, and whispered to each other.
“Those siblings really get along well.”
“Let them have their fun.”