Back to Auntie’s School Days - Chapter 34

The harsh midday sun poured brazenly through the window, so intense that the entire room seemed to dissolve into a vast, white void.

Jian Hao couldn’t see anything. She felt weightless, floating, while a persistent static buzzed in her ears, interspersed with the rhythmic repetition of Jian You’s words. Those words were like a spinning top; Jian Hao followed its rotation, turning and turning until she stumbled, overcome by vertigo.

The spinning top had a hypnotic effect. Jian Hao felt as though she had been put into a trance; surely everything making her feel this dazed was merely a dream.

The time travel was a dream.

Tan Yanqing liking her was a dream.

The child before her being named Jian Hao was also a dream.

Yes, a dream.

She was Jian Hao. Jian Hao was her.

How could Jian Hao possibly be Tiantian?

Jian Hao’s nickname was Tangtang, not Tiantian.

Having convinced herself it was all a dream, Jian Hao steadied her mind slightly. She looked up and focused. Although the room was still a wash of white, she could at least make out Jian You and… Tiantian.

“It doesn’t sound good,” she replied. The smile had vanished from her face, and her tone had become wooden.

Jian You’s gaze remained fixed on Tiantian; she didn’t notice the change and replied with a smile: “It doesn’t? I think it’s quite nice.”

Jian Hao’s hands, hanging at her sides, clenched into fists. Her nails dug into her palms, and the slight sting made her voice tremble. “She has a name. Her name is Tiantian.”

Jian You finally gave her a puzzled look. “I know that, but this is a new name I’m giving her.”

“You aren’t even raising her, so why make her take your last name?”

“Because I found her,” Jian You laughed. She looked at Jian Hao and added, “Take you, for instance. I didn’t raise you, yet you’re using my last name now, aren’t you?”

“…”

Jian Hao’s fists loosened. She pinched her own thigh, her dry lips moving with difficulty as she murmured in a low voice: “That’s different.”

Jian You made a questioning sound. “How is it different?”

“I could recover my memory at any time and remember what I’m actually called. But she… she’ll have to be called Jian… Jian Hao forever.”

In this moment, whether it was a dream or not, Jian Hao desperately hoped that this name Jian You gave Tiantian was just a generic name she gave to everything.

Encounter a stray cat? Name it Jian Hao. Find a puppy? Name it Jian Hao. When Tiantian is adopted by another family and given a new name, the name ‘Jian Hao’ will be discarded… and then the child Mom eventually gives birth to will be named Jian Hao.

Jian Hao used to hope her name was unique in the world because she loved the name her mother gave her. Like when she asked as a child why she was called Jian Hao, and her mother smiled and said: “Because it’s good (Hao). Good health, good grades, and having you makes me feel good too. Jian Hao, Jian Hao—may everything be simple and good.”

But now, Jian Hao wanted that name to be something used for any stray cat or dog. At least that would prove she was Jian Hao, and not… Tiantian.

Remembering something, Jian Hao stepped forward, leaned over, and pulled at Tiantian’s clothes. On the right shoulder, aside from a small patch of dark bruising common in newborns, there was nothing.

But Jian Hao… she had a mole on her right shoulder.

This discovery didn’t make Jian Hao relax; instead, she gritted her teeth. Because… the mole on her shoulder had appeared later in life. Around age thirteen? She had discovered it one day when Auntie Tan was staring at her right shoulder.

Back then, in dramas and novels, the female lead always had a mole that was mentioned repeatedly. It might be at the corner of the eye, on the cheek, or between the brows—somewhere the other lead would memorize. But Jian Hao’s face was clean; she had no distinguishing features on her body at all.

When a mole suddenly appeared on her shoulder, she’d had a fantasy that she could be the lead of a novel. It was the kind of fantasy where you drape a bedsheet over your shoulders as a child and imagine you’re an emperor; looking back makes you laugh at your own silliness, yet you feel nostalgic for it. At the time, she had been happy.

But now, it was completely different.

“What are you doing?” Jian You asked her.

Jian Hao’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She took a step back as if waking from a nightmare. She looked at Jian You’s face and whispered: “Would you…”

Her throat was so dry she couldn’t speak. Jian Hao opened her mouth, turned her face away, and looked down at the ground. She forced the words out with a struggle: “Would you think about…”

Adopting her?

Jian Hao couldn’t bring herself to say those words. Her heart still clung to a shred of hope—Tiantian’s shoulder was normal. This couldn’t be used as evidence.

“Think about what?” Jian You let out an exhale. “Why are you being so mopey today? Did someone bully you?”

In the gap in their conversation, Tiantian opened her eyes on the bed. Her watery, dark-grape eyes rolled around, and her long, curled lashes flickered twice. Seeing Jian You, her arms lifted slightly, her tiny hands grasping at the air.

“Ma…”

She wasn’t calling for “Mama”; it was just a vocalization with a similar tone. But that sound made Jian Hao’s eyes turn red. When they had looked after Tiantian before, the baby had been in a deep sleep. Jian Hao’s care had been intermittent, so she hadn’t seen the baby awake.

Now, looking at her… wasn’t this her own younger self from the photo albums?

Though the baby now was much smaller and thinner than in the photos, with less fat on her cheeks… this was her.

“Ma… Ma…”

Tiantian made two more small sounds. Was it a whimper? Or was she really calling for Jian You? Jian Hao couldn’t tell. She felt lightheaded.

On the contrary, Jian You burst out laughing and leaned over Tiantian. “How old are you?! Already calling for people?!”

Tiantian’s eyes were huge, staring at Jian You through a watery sheen. Her tiny mouth was covered in drool, looking like a piece of crystalline watermelon. Jian You couldn’t resist; she reached out and poked Tiantian’s cheek. “Say it again?”

She placed her index finger by Tiantian’s hand. When the baby grasped it, she laughed again and said to her:

“Ma—ma—”

Like a child learning phonetics in kindergarten, Jian You drew out the sound, teaching the baby how to call her. Her attention was entirely focused on Tiantian; she didn’t see that beside her, Jian Hao had collapsed onto the empty bed.

Jian You taught her a few times, but Tiantian didn’t speak. Instead, after kicking her legs twice, she let out a yawn. Jian You gently patted her.

Catching sight of Jian Hao out of the corner of her eye, she said while looking at the baby, “Don’t you think she and I have a real connection? Just as Xinsui leaves, I find her.”

Jian Hao’s hand gripped the edge of the bed so hard her knuckles were white. Her face was pale. No matter how much she denied it, it was useless. After traveling here, she had told Jian You not to give up on herself, not to even have the chance to give birth to her… who knew the truth was like this?

“But you’re right. If I give her a name and she gets used to it, what if she thinks that’s really her name? …Maybe I should just adopt her?”

Jian You’s gaze remained on Tiantian’s face. Watching the baby slowly fall back asleep, she lowered her voice and murmured as if telling a story: “But if I adopt her, I want to change her nickname too. It’ll represent a total break from everything that came before, a fresh start. Her legal name will be Jian Hao, and her nickname will be—”

She thought for only a second before the answer came from beside her.

“Tangtang.”

Jian You’s eyes lit up. “Tiantian… Tangtang… the meanings are similar, and it sounds nice.” She turned and smiled at Jian Hao. “That’s a good one.”

It was only then that she noticed Jian Hao’s expression was wrong. She sat up and asked with concern, “What’s wrong?”

Jian Hao slowly lifted her eyelids and looked at the tiny version of herself on the bed. “Do you see her as the ‘result’ between you and Xinsui?”

Jian You’s expression stiffened instantly. “Of course not.”

Jian Hao looked at her vacantly. The midday sun draped over Jian You—was it light, or a “maternal glow”? Whatever it was, it made Jian Hao’s eyes ache.

She murmured, “Then why do you want to adopt her?”

Jian You gave a forced laugh. “I was just joking! Look at my situation. I can’t even support myself.”

“So you won’t raise her?”

Jian You was amused. “You actually took me seriously? Of course I won’t. I’m barely eighteen—you think I want a little ‘oil bottle’ (burden) following me around? Didn’t you say it yourself? Told me not to have kids too early, said a child is a cage that traps you and takes away your freedom. Said I’d be burdened by her, and by the time she’s seven or eight and ‘hated even by dogs,’ she’d stop listening to me and just make me angry…”

These were all the things Jian Hao had warned her, consciously or not. They had become boomerangs, stabbing into her body one by one. No blood flowed out because her body was already parched. The scorching sun shone on her face, yet she only felt cold and damp—as if earthworms were crawling over her skin, leaving behind two slimy trails of mud.

She was crying.

Aside from being moved, Jian Hao rarely cried, because Jian You had taught her from childhood: It’s no big deal! As long as you’re alive and healthy, it’s no big deal!

But right now, Jian Hao’s tears fell like rain. She choked out:

“But you gave her a name… you can’t just not want her… you can’t…”

Through her blurred vision, she saw Jian You’s brow furrow. “Why are you crying?” Jian You asked.

For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She cupped her face with both hands, pressing hard against her mouth to stop herself from sobbing out loud. But the more she did, the more her throat ached with bitterness. Her shoulders shook; she knew if she continued, Jian You would think she was crazy.

Covering her face, she choked out, “It’s nothing. I… I just have a bit of a… stomach ache. Class is starting soon… I… I’ll go first.”

With that, ignoring Jian You’s calls, she ran out of the ward.

After school.

While packing her bag, Tan Yanqing turned her head to look at Jian Lai’s seat, which had been empty all afternoon. Her brow furrowed.

At noon, while helping Gao Jing grade papers in the office, Gao Jing had received a call from Jian Lai. She said her stomach hurt and requested the afternoon off.

Tan Yanqing had been right there. Knowing they lived together, Gao Jing turned to confirm with her: “Jian Lai says her stomach hurts. Did she eat something bad, or is it her period?”

Tan Yanqing knew neither, but she instinctively provided a cover: “She’s been feeling a bit unwell since this morning.”

Gao Jing always believed Tan Yanqing; she didn’t think the girl would lie, so she agreed immediately. After hanging up, Gao Jing added, “Check on her when you get back. If it’s bad, take her to the hospital. She sounded like she was crying from the pain.”

“Oh, right. She also told me to tell you not to worry about her.”

Crying?

How could I not worry? That single word made Tan Yanqing restless all afternoon.

She requested leave directly from Gao Jing after school, skipped the evening self-study, and took a taxi home. But the house was empty. She took another taxi to Jian You’s house. Jian You was home, but she said she’d only seen Jian Lai at noon—after which Jian Lai had run off crying, claiming a stomach ache. Jian You didn’t know where she’d gone.

Tan Yanqing panicked. She didn’t know where to look. She didn’t know where Jian Lai could go besides her house and Jian You’s. She ran to the area near the school, and after searching aimlessly for a while, a thought struck her, and she rushed to the police station.

Han Juan happened to be on duty. When she saw her, Tan Yanqing explained the situation.

Han Juan said, “Jian Lai? She came by this afternoon.”

Tan Yanqing froze. “She came? What for?”

Han Juan said, “To withdraw the case. She said we don’t need to help her find her family anymore; she remembered some things.”

Tan Yanqing’s expression stiffened. Jian You, who had come along to help search, asked: “Did anyone ask what she remembered? What her name is? Where her home is?”

Han Juan looked apologetic. “It wasn’t me handling it then; it was my colleague. They just asked a few questions and processed it, so… I’m not sure.”

Tan Yanqing said coldly, “Then please have your colleague tell me: where am I supposed to find her now?!” Her voice turned sharp. “Why didn’t they ensure she actually recovered her memory? Why didn’t they follow her home and confirm the situation with her family before withdrawing the case? Did they take this seriously at all?”

Jian You, standing beside her, was stunned. In nearly three years of high school, she had never seen Tan Yanqing let her emotions show so intensely.

Seeing that Tan Yanqing was clearly losing control, Jian You stepped forward and pulled her back. “Don’t panic. I suspect she’s already gone back. Let’s check the houses again.” She turned to Han Juan. “Sister Han, if Jian Lai isn’t at home, I’ll call you. Likewise, if you hear anything, let me know.”

“Alright,” Han Juan said, then looked at Tan Yanqing and added seriously, “This was indeed an error on our part. If you need our help, contact me immediately.”

Tan Yanqing said nothing. Jian You nodded in response and pulled Tan Yanqing out of the station.