Back to Auntie’s School Days - Chapter 39

The suddenness of her answer left Jian Hao at a loss.

She knew?

So what did Auntie Tan think was the reason she ran away? Or was she simply saying that to comfort her?

She looked at Tan Yanqing.

As they were about to lock eyes, Jian Hao suddenly realized something else.

If, in everyone’s eyes, she had suddenly run away from home, then her sudden appearance at Auntie Tan’s house… wasn’t Auntie Tan’s reaction a bit too calm?

She knew Auntie Tan worked at the police bureau and had seen too many bizarre and horrific cases; staying calm was a basic professional requirement for an officer. But… shouldn’t things be different for her? Even if Auntie Tan didn’t love her—and she meant romantic love—even without that, she called her “Godmother.” She was her goddaughter. Seeing her return, why did Auntie Tan have… no reaction at all?

Was it because of her confession? Had Auntie Tan stopped caring about her? Or was Auntie Tan afraid of being blamed, so she was being deliberately cold? Was she planning to distance herself and pull away regardless of what happened next?

Jian Hao’s heart sank, filled with a sharp, stinging pain like the biting of a thousand ants.

Her nose prickled. She turned her head away, refusing to look at Tan Yanqing.

At that moment, the sound of keys jingling came from the door. Jian Hao looked toward the sound. A second later, the door swung open. Light spilled in first, followed closely by Jian You rushing inside.

The moment she saw Jian Hao, Jian You’s eyes instantly turned red.

Jian Hao’s lips trembled. “…Mom.”

Jian You had already run to her side, landing two sharp slaps on Jian Hao’s back. “You brat! Where did you go? Are you trying to kill me with worry because my life is too easy?!”

Jian Hao burst into tears. “Mom—”

She hugged Jian You tightly. The water in the cup she was holding splashed all over Jian You’s clothes. The gray trench coat darkened by several shades, and puddles formed on the floor. But no one cared.

Jian You kept one hand on the spot she had just struck, rubbing it to soothe the pain, while the other cradled the back of Jian Hao’s head, letting the girl cry against her shoulder.

Jian Hao burrowed into Jian You’s neck, her tears flowing like an endless stream.

She was crying because she was thinking about her origin.

From the moment she knew she was adopted, Jian Hao’s feelings for Jian You had become even more complex. That “entitled selfishness” no longer existed. She should listen to Jian You; no matter what Jian You said, she should listen. She could never argue with her again, never make her angry again, never do anything Jian You disliked…

She was also crying because she truly missed Jian You. Even though she had been with her the whole time, she couldn’t call the 2008 Jian You “Mom.” She missed her mother.

Holding Jian Hao for real and feeling her presence, Jian You’s anger quickly melted into tenderness. She said hoarsely, “It’s good that you’re back, baby. It’s good that you’re back.”

Jian You turned her head, her tear-stained lips gently kissing Jian Hao’s cheek and ear. “Mom was wrong. I shouldn’t have forced you to study. From now on, study if you want, and if you don’t, Mom can still support you.”

“Mom… it wasn’t because of studying… from now on… I’ll definitely study hard… go to university…” she choked out.

“Fine, don’t force yourself. If you can’t get it into your head, then don’t. Mom really won’t push you.” She pulled Jian Hao back, cupped her face, and said softly, “Just don’t be so impulsive again. Running away just like that—do you know, Mom nearly went to join your grandmother.”

Jian Hao hugged Jian You again. “I’m sorry… Mom… I’m so sorry…”

“Do you need a tissue?”

A cool voice broke their intimate moment.

Tan Yanqing had walked over at some point and was standing right next to them.

Jian You took the tissue from her hand and pressed it under Jian Hao’s eyes. “Wipe them, come on, stop crying.”

Jian Hao looked at Tan Yanqing.

Seeing this, Jian You said, “Why didn’t you go straight home? Were you afraid I’d hit you or scold you? So you ran to your godmother? You’ve caused her so much trouble. Do you know that to find you, your godmother—”

“She’s back now. Let’s not talk about that.”

Jian You stopped and turned to Tan Yanqing. “Did you just get off work?”

“Mhm.”

“Then I’ll take Tangtang home first. You should rest.”

Jian Hao tugged at Jian You’s clothes, her voice raspy from crying. “Mom, my pajamas are still in the room. Help me go get them.”

Once Jian You went into the guest room, Jian Hao’s gaze drifted toward Tan Yanqing.

The moment their eyes met, Tan Yanqing’s hand, still holding a tissue, wiped the tears from her ears and cheeks.

Allowing Tan Yanqing to wipe her tear tracks, Jian Hao bit her lip and asked hesitantly:

“Auntie… why does my mom think I ran away because of studying? Didn’t you say… you told her?”

Tan Yanqing glanced at her.

Behind her lenses, her eyes looked like the blue-gray clouds floating over the eastern moon at sunset—the moon barely visible.

Though she said nothing, Jian Hao understood.

—Jian You was pretending that specific reason didn’t exist.

Back at home, Jian You went straight to the kitchen the moment they walked in, saying Jian Hao had gotten thinner and that she was going to make her something delicious.

Jian Hao had “physically” traveled; during her time at Tan Yanqing’s house in the past, she hadn’t been mistreated. Not only had she not lost weight, she had actually gained a pound.

However, having not eaten Jian You’s cooking for over two months, Jian Hao missed it dearly. After saying “Thank you, Mom,” she didn’t go to her room immediately. Instead, she stood still, looking around at her home.

Why did it feel like an eternity had passed when she’d only been gone for two months?

The intermittent sounds of Jian You in the kitchen made certain unnamed emotions in Jian Hao’s heart fade. She went to her room, changed the clothes Tan Yanqing had given her into her own, sat on the edge of the bed, and picked up her phone.

During the process, Jian You kept checking on her every minute, as if she were terrified the girl would suddenly vanish again. To hide her anxiety, she would invent a new topic for every visit.

So clingy!

Helpless, Jian Hao took her phone and lay on the living room sofa. The phone was still on; it had even been charging on her bedside table when she came in.

She asked about it, and Jian You said she was the one who kept it charged. She was afraid Jian Hao might call her own phone from outside or that someone with information might call, so she kept it on and checked it constantly.

As Jian Hao lay down, she swiped up habitually to check her messaging apps.

Her list had four people with notes starting with “A.” Auntie Tan, Mom, her best friend Guan Xinting, and the last one was Grandma.

Although Jian Sihong had passed away, Jian You had kept her WeChat account and phone number active.

There were many unread messages. The red numbers indicating the count had turned into ellipses for some. The ones who messaged the most were Jian You and Guan Xinting.

At the very top was Guan Xinting.

She opened the chat. There were over three hundred messages. She scrolled to the top.

One was from her mother: 【Xiaoting, this is Auntie. Do you know where Jian Hao went?】

After a few lines of dialogue, the rest were all messages from Guan Xinting. Every single one was about her disappearance… the screen was full of worry. Opening a voice message, it was the sound of her friend crying, saying she missed her and was worried.

The tears that hadn’t dried at Tan Yanqing’s house flowed out again. She wiped them away and scrolled down roughly, not daring to look too closely for fear her heart would ache so much she’d faint.

When she reached the bottom, she first “nudged” Guan Xinting’s profile.

【I “nudged” “A-Guan Baby” and gave her a million!】

Jian Hao couldn’t help but laugh and typed: 【I’m back. Come find me!】

She glanced at the time. It was exactly when school let out for lunch. Guan Xinting, like her, was a commuter student and could come over. Fearing her friend might miss the text, Jian Hao was about to call when the reply came.

【!!!!!】

【A real person?!! Not a ghost trap?!?】

Jian Hao: 【What do you think? Eight bowls of millet porridge.】

This was a secret code known only to them.

Guan Xinting placed a voice call immediately. Jian Hao said “Hello,” and hearing that it really was her, Guan Xinting started sobbing on the other end.

“You stay right there at home. Just wait until I get there to beat you up!”

Jian Hao laughed: “Then you’d better not come!”

“Jian Hao!!! If you don’t give me a proper explanation, I’ll… I’ll post all your chat records!”

Jian Hao quickly comforted her for a few moments. Two minutes later, Guan Xinting hung up; she was going to race over on her bike.

Jian Hao exited the chat with Guan Xinting.

Below that were the messages from Jian You—over a hundred of them. She opened them and read them one by one. She’d only read two before her eyes were blurred by tears. Fearing Jian You would see her crying, she hid in the bathroom.

Below Jian You were messages from classmates, Director Gao, Auntie Zhu, and other relatives.

Finally, the entry for 【A-Tan】 appeared.

Auntie Tan’s profile picture was a puddle on the ground. Above the puddle and on the surrounding pavement were scattered tiny, brilliant yellow osmanthus petals.

Jian Hao couldn’t help but think of that day on the bus when Tan Yanqing had plucked an osmanthus petal from her head.

Was it a coincidence?

Perhaps. Auntie Tan’s profile picture had never changed since she first got WeChat.

Auntie Tan’s chat didn’t show any unread messages. Jian Hao clicked in and saw messages from after October 23rd. This meant someone had opened and read her chat history with Auntie Tan. Who was it? Her mom, or Auntie Tan herself?

But even if they looked, they wouldn’t see much. Her chats with Auntie Tan were always perfectly proper, like chatting with a school dean. Her feelings for Auntie Tan were impossible to discern from those businesslike records.

But if someone opened her “Favorites,” they would see that she had saved every single voice message Auntie Tan had sent her that contained a gentle tone: “Goodnight,” “Have you eaten?”, “What do you want to eat?”, “Go to sleep early,” and so on.

Jian Hao didn’t look at the records from before her birthday. From after her birthday, there were only three messages.

Oct 24, 20:56

【Where did you go? Your mom came back and said she hasn’t seen you all day.】

【Are you resenting me? Don’t gamble with your life out of spite.】

Oct 25, 04:32

【Waiting for you to come back.】

Jian Hao wasn’t sure if there were other messages, but of these three, the last one was sent on the 25th. Unlike Guan Xinting and Jian You, who had messaged her every day up until this morning asking where she was.

Even knowing she didn’t have her phone or SIM card and couldn’t log into WeChat anywhere, Tan Yanqing’s level of calm… still made Jian Hao a bit melancholy.

However, seeing that the message on the 25th was sent in the early morning, Jian Hao’s spirits lifted slightly. Was she… so worried she hadn’t slept all night?

There was a knock on the bathroom door.

Jian Hao opened it. Jian You was outside holding a fruit platter, telling her to eat. Amidst her touched feelings, she was also caught between laughter and tears. “Mom, I’m really fine. You’re being so caring all of a sudden, it makes me feel awkward.”

In her perspective, after all, she hadn’t actually “run away.”

She put the fruit platter on the table and went to help Jian You wash and chop vegetables. When she returned from the kitchen and leaned back on the sofa to pick up her phone, she realized something belatedly—where was her phone’s passcode?

There was no fingerprint or face unlock; she had just swiped up… and it unlocked perfectly.

She called out to Jian You and asked why.

Jian You said, “You disappeared without your ID or phone. To find you, of course we had to look for clues on your phone. Isn’t your Auntie Tan in the police force, doing cyber forensics or something? She took your phone to the station, cracked the code, and then—”

Jian Hao shot up like a rocket, her voice full of disbelief: “…You mean, Auntie Tan looked through my phone?!”

“Yeah, how else were we supposed to find clues?”

Jian Hao went completely numb.

If she remembered correctly, in all those police movies, the cops could see the owner’s entire browsing history. Even using incognito mode or deleting history was useless!

And what had she been looking at two months ago? She didn’t even have to think. She knew exactly what she’d looked at, even two years later, because she never looked at anything else.

And those things… had! Been! Seen! By! Auntie! Tan?!

Jian Hao found it hard to breathe. She felt as if she were suffocating.

Her sky…

had collapsed…