Chen Jiaojiao entered the restroom and splashed cold water on his face, feeling much better. Not wanting to hold everyone up, he didn’t linger long before stepping back out.
As soon as he emerged, Myers nudged his chin toward him, signaling him to check his phone, his tone teasing. “Better let your Mr. Meng know you’re safe. Can’t bear to be apart for even a moment, can you? He’s probably on his way here right now.”
Laughing and chatting, the group strode briskly toward the exit. With Meng Jin handling things on this end, they all felt completely at ease.
Before long, Chen Jiaojiao heard a familiar voice calling his name.
He looked up in the direction of the sound and, sure enough, spotted that familiar figure he had been longing for day and night in the bustling crowd.
Meng Jin was unusually dressed in casual wear today, his face hidden beneath a baseball cap, mask, and sunglasses. Yet his tall, straight posture and dignified aura still made him stand out among the masses.
A faint smile touched Chen Jiaojiao’s lips. Ignoring the teasing laughter from Myers and the others, he quickened his pace, breaking into a small run before throwing himself into Meng Jin’s arms. Tilting his chin up, he called out, “Meng Jin.”
The person he had longed for day and night had come rushing toward him. Meng Jin wrapped his arms around him, holding his entire world close. He rested his chin against the top of Chen Jiaojiao’s head, his gaze sweeping over Myers and the others. Just as he was about to speak, he suddenly froze, his pupils contracting sharply.
Through his sunglasses, his eyes locked onto the disheartened young man standing at the corner.
Chen Qinghe?
What was he doing here?!
A sense of crisis coiled around Meng Jin’s heart like a venomous snake. His jaw tightened instantly as he took a long stride forward, positioning himself protectively over Chen Jiaojiao, almost completely shielding him.
The airport broadcast echoed with a drawn-out announcement. Meng Jin quickly placed the prepared cap and mask on Chen Jiaojiao, practically bundling him along as they hurried away.
“Why are we leaving so fast?” Chen Jiaojiao sensed something was off and glanced at Meng Jin’s tense expression. “Is something urgent?”
Meng Jin’s voice remained steady as he reached out to touch Chen Jiaojiao’s forehead, casually smoothing the stray hairs by his ear. “You’re not feeling well. Let’s have a doctor check you.”
Chen Jiaojiao breathed a sigh of relief as he settled into the car Meng Jin had arranged. Resting his chin against the window, he said, “I’m just not used to it. I don’t want to go to the hospital.”
The car moved steadily along the road until the airport behind them shrank to a tiny dot and disappeared from sight. Only then did Meng Jin allow himself to relax.
Chen Jiaojiao leaned his head against the window, watching as the man beside him answered one phone call after another, filled with professional jargon he couldn’t understand.
When the last call ended, he tugged at Meng Jin’s sleeve. “Am I disturbing your work?”
“No,” Meng Jin replied curtly, having already arranged his work and matters at the airport. He slipped his phone into his pocket and pulled Chen Jiaojiao’s head onto his shoulder with one hand. “Rest for a while.”
Chen Jiaojiao breathed in Meng Jin’s familiar scent, and most of his discomfort faded away. Their plan was to visit nearby attractions tomorrow, watch the fireworks the night after, and return the day after that. “Will you come back with me after the fireworks?”
Their heads leaned against each other as Meng Jin let out an almost imperceptible sigh. “Jiaojiao, I’ll definitely be back before school starts.”
Upon hearing the girl’s words, Chen Qinghe felt as though he had grasped a lifeline it wasn’t his hallucination after all. Frantically, he searched every nearby spot but found nothing.
His eyelashes trembled, as if he were wrestling with a great internal struggle, before he finally took out his phone and dialed Meng Jin’s number. “Hello, is this Brother Meng Jin?”
Meng Jin was still in the car and merely responded with a low “Hmm,” waiting for Chen Qinghe to continue.
“Today, I ran into Xue Yan at the airport. Could you… could you send someone to look for him?” Chen Qinghe mustered all his strength to utter these words. He was well aware of Meng Jin’s feelings for his younger brother, but he had no other choice only Meng Jin could mobilize the vast resources needed for the search.
Out of the corner of his eye, Meng Jin could still see Chen Jiaojiao resting her chin in her hand, watching him. He tugged at the corner of his mouth and switched the phone to his other ear. “I’ll send someone to find you.”
If Chen Qinghe hadn’t called Meng Jin that day, he might still have held a sliver of hope of seeing Meng Xue Yan again. But fatefully, he did make that call.
Little did he know that this was the closest he would come to his brother in the next five years.
Arriving in an unfamiliar country, Chen Jiaojiao felt like a bird released from its cage, brimming with curiosity about everything. Over the past few days, spending time with Meyers and the others had brought them closer, and their laughter grew more genuine and heartfelt.
Chen Jiaojiao had been looking forward to the fireworks festival for a long time, and they arrived early.
The evening sky was still tinged with a soft orange-pink hue, but the riverbank was already crowded with people dressed in colorful yukatas. The crisp clatter of wooden geta sandals mingled with laughter, weaving together to create this uniquely unforgettable summer.
They found an open spot on the lawn and spread out the picnic mat they had prepared.
Chen Jiaojiao wore a white short-sleeved shirt and black trousers that Meng Jin had picked out for her. The gentle breeze tousled her soft hair, giving her the cool, clean aura of someone from a Japanese school campus.
Meng Jin neatly arranged the snacks they had brought, then raised his camera, its lens always following Chen Jiaojiao’s movements. No matter the moment, she was his only subject.
“Three, two, one.”
“Boom!”
The first firework burst into a dazzling bloom against the night sky, its golden light cascading like a waterfall, illuminating the faces of everyone below. Then, countless fireworks soared into the air one after another, transforming the night sky into a dreamlike tapestry before dissolving into shimmering specks of light that drifted downward like shooting stars.
With a soft “click,” Meng Jin pressed the shutter, capturing Chen Jiaojiao’s profile as she gazed up at the fireworks. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Jiaojiao, doesn’t it look like shooting stars?”
Chen Jiaojiao nodded. Fireworks were the most fleeting yet brilliant flowers in the world, vanishing as quickly as shooting stars.
“Make a wish,” Meng Jin’s deep voice cut clearly through the noise. “Wishing upon a shooting star always comes true.”
She took the camera from Meng Jin and saw that it was filled with photos of herself. Her eyes curved into a lovely arc as she suddenly pressed her cheek against Meng Jin’s. With another “click,” a photo of the two of them was captured.
After taking the picture, she closed her eyes devoutly, clasped her hands together, and made a wish. Shooting star, oh shooting star, I wish for Meng Jin to achieve all his dreams and be forever happy. We will always be together!
Meng Jin’s gaze deepened as he watched Chen Jiaojiao’s earnest profile, his heart softening. Xue Yan, happy birthday in advance. I’m sorry I can’t spend this day with you this year.
For now, I can only let you make a wish upon the fireworks, hoping you’ll be happy forever.
“What did you wish for?” Meng Jin asked softly as Chen Jiaojiao opened his eyes.
Chen Jiaojiao, rarely one to keep secrets, replied, “If I say it out loud, it won’t come true.”
“Tell me, and I’ll make it happen for you.”
A faint smile touched Meng Jin’s lips as he continued gazing at the night sky, his eyes shimmering with scattered light. “You’re already making it come true.”
Neither of them voiced the thoughts in their hearts, unaware that both their wishes were for the other’s happiness.
But fireworks are just fireworks, not shooting stars.
Under the canopy of dazzling fireworks, Meng Jin cupped Chen Jiaojiao’s face, seeing his own reflection in his eyes. Their foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling.
Chen Jiaojiao slowly closed his eyes, recalling the agreement he and Meng Jin had made after their last kiss if he closed his eyes, it meant he consented to a kiss.
The next moment, their warm lips met. But Meng Jin didn’t deepen the kiss, only gently tracing Chen Jiaojiao’s lips with his tongue, like two animals tenderly grooming each other, intimate and lingering.
Beneath the fireworks, they shared a tender kiss, making a wish to spend their lives together.
The trip to Tokyo felt like a dream, and soon it was time to wake up.
“Call or message me once you land.” Meng Jin straightened Chen Jiaojiao’s clothes and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”
Now, Chen Jiaojiao could accept Meng Jin’s kisses without hesitation. Clutching his passport tightly, he asked once more, “Are you sure I can’t go with you on your business trip?”
“I’ll be good.”
“Two days.” Meng Jin chuckled softly, placing his hands on Chen Jiaojiao’s shoulders and turning him around to nudge him forward. “Go home first, sweetheart. You need to prepare for the start of the semester.”
Miles and the others had already returned from the restroom, surprised to find the two still lingering in their affectionate farewell. With an expression of “enough already” and the boarding announcement echoing, they urged Chen Jiaojiao to hurry inside.
Chen Jiaojiao, already shy, blushed at the teasing, his ears turning red. He waved goodbye and followed the others.
Meng Jin watched until Chen Jiaojiao boarded the plane, the heavy weight in his chest finally lifting, allowing him to breathe again. His expression turned cold as he lowered his head to send a text message.
“Chen, I saw someone in the airport restroom who looked exactly like you in a photo,” Miles said, seated next to Chen Jiaojiao. Unable to resist sharing the amusing encounter, he added, “Do you have a twin brother?”
Chen Jiaojiao shook his head, curiosity piqued. “How similar?”
“Like they could be the same person.” Miles paused, studying him from head to toe. “Maybe… you look a bit more mature.”
Considering the vastness of the world and its endless surprises, Chen Jiaojiao didn’t find it too strange and quickly dismissed the thought.
Miles regretted not taking a photo, only remembering the combination of letters in the name. “M, E, N, G… that was his name.”
Meng? Meng?
Miles didn’t know Chinese characters, but he knew that “Meng” was a surname. But was it necessarily a surname? What if it was a given name?
For some reason, Chen Jiaojiao felt a sudden, inexplicable certainty that “Meng” was indeed the person’s surname.
The same surname as Meng Jin.
Chen Jiaojiao’s heart skipped a beat, his gaze drifting as if transported back to that afternoon years ago, when his mother held him close, murmuring “good boy” and “Jiaojiao” over and over again.
Just learning to walk, still unsteady, he reached out to hold the hand of the person beside him, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make out that person’s face.
Clearly unwilling to be held, the person growled, “Meng Jiaojiao.” Even though he was scolded, he didn’t let go, blinking pitifully with red-rimmed eyes, but not daring to shed tears. In a soft, childish voice, he called out, “Brother”
By the time Mels returned with something, he saw Chen Jiaojiao silently crying, looking utterly heartbroken. His heart sank, and he patted Chen’s shoulder, handing him a tissue. “Are you okay?”
Chen Jiaojiao snapped back to reality, raising a hand to touch his face. His fingertips were cold and damp had he been crying?
The scene just now felt so real. Why had he called that person “brother”? Meng Jin had told him he had no family left in this world.
Was Meng Jin lying to him?