The evening breeze, carrying the dampness of the lake, brushed gently against their cheeks. Against the backdrop of the deep blue sky, Meng Jin’s usually sharp features appeared softened and gentle.
In that moment filled with the sound of the wind, the beating of hearts, and the lingering warmth of alcohol, the urge to confide quietly grew like waterweeds at the bottom of the lake.
Chen Jiaojiao pursed his lips, tilted his head back, and took the last sip of beer. The cool liquid seemed to give him courage. He fished a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and carefully handed it over. “Do you think it looks good?”
Meng Jin took it and, under the dim light, solemnly smoothed the drawing on his knee. It was a somewhat unpolished character sketch. He studied it for a long time so long that Chen Jiaojiao almost held his breath before finally looking up, his expression serious. “Is this what’s been bothering you?”
“Yeah, partly.” The wind ruffled the stray hairs on Chen Jiaojiao’s forehead and carried his slightly tipsy words to Meng Jin’s ears. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m even cut out for the path of art.”
“You said I used to love fine arts, but now I can’t even do well at what I once loved.”
This was the first time he had let down his guard, revealing the confusion and vulnerability within. In Meng Jin’s words, he had always been so outstanding.
Meng Jin looked at him but didn’t answer immediately. Only after Chen Jiaojiao had poured out all the bitterness in his heart did he reach out, placing both hands firmly on Chen Jiaojiao’s slender shoulders, forcing him to face him directly.
“Jiaojiao.” His voice was low and resolute, carrying a reassuring magic. “You’re only eighteen. Do you know what that means?”
Chen Jiaojiao’s heart pounded like a drum. He answered instinctively, “Youth?”
“Yes.” There was not a trace of indifference in Meng Jin’s eyes, only complete sincerity. “It means you have countless opportunities to make mistakes. The whole world is your sketchpad.”
“There are many branches of fine arts. I chose this one for you based on your past, but if you don’t like it now or can’t do it well, it doesn’t mean anything at all.”
“You can change it anytime.”
His words, conveyed through the warmth of his palms and the thin fabric of Chen Jiaojiao’s clothes, slowly soothed the unease in his heart.
“You can try anything that interests you oil painting, sculpture, design.” Meng Jin’s tone faltered almost imperceptibly for a moment, but he quickly continued, his voice even gentler and more indulgent. “Or how about trying architecture?”
Chen Jiaojiao’s pupils trembled slightly, his eyes clearly reflecting Meng Jin’s figure.
Meng Jin leaned closer, ruffling his soft hair, his tone exceptionally doting. “From now on, if you don’t want to attend those classes, you don’t have to. If going to class makes you sad or upset, it defeats the purpose.”
“Jiaojiao, you’re still young. There’s no need to confine yourself at home. Go see exhibitions, travel, make new friends… Even if you want to turn the house upside down and throw an all-night party, it’s up to you.”
When Chen Jiaojiao looked at him with eyes filled with dependence, gratitude, and a rekindled glimmer of hope, Meng Jin’s heart was a whirlwind of mixed emotions.
He found himself a bundle of contradictions on one hand, his heart ached at Jiaojiao’s self-doubt; on the other, he feared that if Jiaojiao truly studied architecture, it might trigger the recovery of his memories. Torn between heartache and fear, he ended up slowly torturing himself.
Chen Jiaojiao couldn’t put his feelings into words at that moment. He looked at Meng Jin with near-reverence, his eyes holding no one else.
Meng Jin didn’t avert his gaze when Chen Jiaojiao looked over. Instead, his eyes grew even softer and more tender, as though something had shifted between them in that instant.
Chen Jiaojiao took the initiative to hug Meng Jin. As their hearts drew closer, it infused him with new vitality and strength. Tomorrow would be a brand-new day. “Thank you, Meng Jin.”
Meng Jin hugged him back, resting his chin on the top of Chen Jiaojiao’s head and gently nuzzling it. His lips brushed against Chen Jiaojiao’s hair as he replied in a husky voice, “You’re welcome, Chen Jiaojiao.”
In that moment, Meng Jin finally grasped it he had figured out the way to interact with Chen Jiaojiao. Letting go was a higher form of control than forcing things.
But truly letting go was something he couldn’t bear, something that made him uneasy. So he could only hold Chen Jiaojiao tightly, seeking some kind of reassurance from him. “But you have to promise me before making any decisions, you’ll talk to me first.”
Chen Jiaojiao buried his face in Meng Jin’s shoulder, his voice muffled. “Mm! I know.”
Meng Jin added another condition, “And no using your real name or sharing photos.”
Chen Jiaojiao agreed again, a hint of imperceptible fondness in his tone. “Okay.”
The next day, on the title page of the notebook Chen Jiaojiao used specifically for jotting down German vocabulary, a small line of text appeared: “crush Mr. Meng 6.25”
Perhaps their heartfelt conversation had truly made a difference. Chen Jiaojiao began focusing more on light and shadow training, yet he hadn’t given up on art he wanted to give it another try.
However, he no longer pushed himself to study late into the night as he had before. Instead, he started to find his own ways to relax.
One day, after finishing an outdoor sketching class, he instinctively looked around for that sticky little figure Nian Gao. Usually, it would cling to his feet, even curiously pawing at his easel while he mixed colors. But today, it was nowhere to be seen!
“Nian Gao?”
Chen Jiaojiao called out, but only the rustling of leaves answered him.
A sudden tightness gripped his heart. He quickly set down his painting supplies and hurried along the garden path, calling out as he searched the spots Nian Gao loved to play. Spotting a servant trimming flowers not far away, he anxiously asked, “Have you seen Nian Gao?”
“It was just there chasing butterflies earlier,” the servant replied, looking just as confused.
The housekeeper immediately gathered everyone in the household, mobilizing a full-scale search for Nian Gao. They nearly turned the house upside down, but Nian Gao was nowhere to be found.
Just as everyone was at a loss, the doorbell rang.
“Ding-dong”
Standing outside was a curly-haired young man in a loose-fitting shirt. His features were sharp, and his smile carried a unique youthful charm. Apologetically, he asked, “Hello, is that little brown dog yours?”
“Yes!” Chen Jiaojiao breathed a sigh of relief. “Did it cause you any trouble?”
“No, no it’s just that my little Di is too fond of this new friend,” the young man said, scratching his curly hair. His bright eyes stayed fixed on Chen Jiaojiao, as if afraid to blink. “When the new friend tried to leave, Di threw a tantrum. I’m Mels. I just moved in next door today.”
Hearing this, Chen Jiaojiao pinched the bridge of his nose and followed Mels.
Before he even reached the door, he felt a small cannonball crash into his calf. Sticky Rice was whimpering softly, looking utterly pitiful.
The dog named Xiao Di followed closely behind, lingering anxiously around Chen Jiaojiao’s feet wanting to approach but not daring to, its dark, glossy eyes filled with reluctance.
He crouched down halfway, picking up Sticky Rice in his arms, then freed one hand to pat Xiao Di’s head. He nodded politely toward Myers and said, “We should head back now, Xiao Di.”
Myers grunted twice, scooping up Xiao Di in one motion. “Just wait, we’ll come by with a gift to apologize.”
Watching the retreating figures of the man and his dog, Xiao Di chased after them for a few steps, tail wagging.
After bringing Sticky Rice home, the little dog nestled motionlessly against his neck, as if suffering from separation anxiety, letting out occasional whimpers to voice its grievances.
Amused, Chen Jiaojiao pulled Sticky Rice aside and tapped its nose. “Weren’t you the one who wanted to go out and play?”
Once the worry faded, anger gradually rose. He rarely put on a stern face, but now he lightly tapped Sticky Rice’s paw pad. “No more running off from now on. And no treats for you today.”
Sticky Rice tried to win him over by nuzzling his hand, but for once, it was gently pushed away. Chen Jiaojiao looked at it seriously until those round eyes began to glisten with tears, then he sighed helplessly.
After giving Sticky Rice a bath, the butler came to announce Myers’s visit. Carrying the now clean and refreshed puppy, he went downstairs and saw the curly-haired young man sitting upright in the living room, a beautifully wrapped gift box placed beside him.
“I’m really sorry about today,” Myers said, standing up and earnestly pushing forward the cookies he had made himself. “I hope it didn’t cause you any trouble.”
“It’s fine,” Chen Jiaojiao replied with a faint smile. “Sticky Rice hasn’t had a playmate in a long time, so it was actually quite happy.”
It wasn’t just Sticky Rice Chen Jiaojiao had also invited Myers over with the private intention of taking his first step into socializing, trying to make friends proactively.
Myers had an enthusiastic personality and could make friends wherever he went. However, because Chen Jiaojiao was so strikingly beautiful, resembling delicate Eastern porcelain with a fragile elegance, even Myers felt a bit reserved around him.
But when they discovered they attended the same school, the conversation truly opened up.
Myers spoke animatedly, introducing his hometown in Canada and the countries he had visited before. When he got to Asia, he took a sip of water and looked at Chen Jiaojiao curiously. “Chen, which country are you from?”
“China.”
This was the first time Chen Jiaojiao had uttered these two words familiar yet distant from his own lips.
Far away in a foreign land, even without memories of his past, the thought that somewhere on the other side of the world held his history and memories was a feeling beyond words.
At that moment, his desire to uncover his past reached its peak.
Hearing this, Myers looked at Chen Jiaojiao in surprise and pressed further, “I’ve been to Hong Kong! I even lived there for a while!”
This time, Chen Jiaojiao shook his head. “I grew up in Nanshui City.”
“Alright then. I plan to visit Shanghai when I have the time. I’ve heard it’s developing rapidly and changing a lot,” Myers said, shrugging. He patted Chen Jiaojiao’s shoulder familiarly and joked, “Maybe I’ll even need you to be my translator.”
Upon hearing the words “Shanghai,” a fleeting flash of color suddenly crossed Chen Jiaojiao’s vision, too quick for him to grasp. When he tried to recall it, his mind returned to a blank slate.
Meyers came from a well-off family, was well-liked, and excelled academically, carrying a sense of pride befitting his achievements.
He spoke confidently, “I study music. You can search my name in a search engine my detailed resume is listed there.”
Unfortunately, Chen Jiaojiao was no longer in the mood to listen.
“Chen, you don’t look well,” Meyers noticed something was off and looked at him with concern. “Do you need me to call a doctor?”
Chen Jiaojiao pursed his lips and glanced up at Meyers. “Sorry, what did you just say?”
“Call a doctor?”
“No, the line before that.”
“You don’t look well?”
Chen Jiaojiao shook his head again.
Meyers hesitated, trying to recall. “Search my name in a search engine?”
Yes! The search engine, the detailed resume.
Chen Jiaojiao’s heart skipped a beat. After seeing Meyers off, for some reason, he turned on his computer, opened the search bar, and typed in Meyers’ name.
The resume was indeed detailed, recording everything from his birth to the present, including all the awards he had won.
The delete key was pressed gently.
After a long pause, he rubbed his fingers a few times and clicked on the keyboard.
“Chen Jiaojiao” Enter.