Back to Auntie’s School Days - Chapter 54

They say Tan Yanqing is cold by nature, and tonight, Jian Hao finally witnessed it firsthand.

She sat huddled outside the door for two hours. The door to Tan Yanqing’s bedroom remained as motionless as a mountain; not a single sound came from within.

At first, she didn’t know how long she had been there. She spent the entire time hugging her arms, her head buried in the crook of her elbows, her mind filled with only one thought: Tan Yanqing didn’t want her anymore.

It wasn’t until Guan Xinting called her that she recovered a sliver of herself from this “abandonment.”

Guan Xinting’s voice was full of joy: “Babe! Happy New Year!”

Jian Hao’s nose stung; she wanted to cry again. She sniffed and replied with a smile, “Happy New Year!”

“Huh?” Guan Xinting paused. “Why is your voice so raspy?”

“It’s nothing, just haven’t had any water.”

Guan Xinting: “What, afraid of bloating tomorrow?”

“…Mhm.”

“Aww, look at you—spoken like someone who has a crush. So careful about your image.” Guan Xinting laughed and lowered her voice, asking secretively, “How’s the New Year’s Eve going with Auntie Tan?”

Guan Xinting knew she had taken leave from evening self-study to go straight to Tan Yanqing’s house.

She doesn’t want me anymore, Jian Hao thought silently. She smiled. “It’s great.”

“It’s~ great~”

Hearing Guan Xinting mimic her—something that usually would have been a shy, giggly moment—now felt like a needle prick. Her heart throbbed with pain. She opened her mouth, only to find that even breathing hurt.

Jian Hao could only bite her lip hard. Perhaps she bit too hard; her gums began to bleed, and a metallic, sweet taste of iron filled her mouth.

Guan Xinting let out a yawn. “I’ve been sleepy for a while, but I wanted to be the first to call and say Happy New Year. Now that I’ve said it, I won’t bother you ‘accompanied’ folks. We single dogs are going to bed.”

Hearing her about to hang up, Jian Hao blurted out, “Tingting.”

“Yeah?”

“Love you.”

“…You’re so mushy, Jian Dahao. Love you too, love you too!”

Jian Hao said softly, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, see you tomorrow~”

The call ended. Jian Hao’s gaze fell on the time on her phone.

[2026-01-01 00:02]

So, it was already a new year.

Jian Hao exhaled, pursed her lips, and slowly stood up. Her legs and feet were so numb they felt like the black-and-white static on an old 2008 desktop monitor without a signal. They felt like a tongue after eating a handful of Sichuan peppercorns—she couldn’t feel their existence.

As she rose, her legs buckled, and she nearly fell. She propped herself against the wall. Her feet felt “dead,” her legs felt “dead,” and slowly, her stomach would feel dead, followed by her heart.

No, her heart was already dead; that was why her body was following suit.

Her still-living eyelashes flickered twice. Her eyes looked like those twenty-peso plaster dolls sold by the roadside—even if they were painted, they remained numb and soulless. Besides, Jian Hao couldn’t paint; her use of color would only make people want to smash and discard the plaster doll.

—Oh, so that’s why Tan Yanqing doesn’t want me.

She slowly lifted her stiff neck, her gaze falling on the cream-white door that felt like a glacier. She smiled. “Auntie Tan, Happy New Year.”

After a pause, she added, “I’m going down to sleep. You can come out to wash up now.”

She knew. Even though there had been the sound of a light switching off during her wait, and even though it was as silent as if someone were asleep inside, Tan Yanqing was definitely awake. Tan Yanqing wouldn’t leave her to wait at the door alone.

And that only made Jian Hao feel more despair. Didn’t Tan Yanqing care about her most? Why, in this matter, was she unwilling to give her even a sliver of a chance?

Behind the door.

In the darkened room, Tan Yanqing crouched by the wardrobe near the bed. Her face was illuminated by a pale blue-white light—the light from her phone screen. She watched the surveillance footage: a person moving downstairs inch by inch like a snail, as if their legs were disabled. That small silhouette on the screen looked like a tiny black dot—so small, so in need of a hug.

Tan Yanqing watched until Jian Hao finished washing up and returned to her room. Then, she flipped her hand over, placing the phone face-down, and stopped watching.

Her legs and her heart felt as if they were being bitten by a swarm of ants. She had been crouching inside for just as long as Jian Hao had been crouching outside. Now, she slid down against the wardrobe and sat on the floor, her legs awkwardly bent.

The curtains in the room weren’t drawn. Moonlight streamed through the checkered windows, leaving parallel patches of light on the headboard. Light hit the wardrobe, too, but it didn’t reach Tan Yanqing. She sat in the shadows, watching the snow fluttering outside.

the snow outside couldn’t chill Tan Yanqing one bit, yet the rain outside the door had dampened her entire life. She slowly closed her eyes. In the dim light, the sharp lines of her face seemed blurred and ethereal.

It was the New Year. This was the eighteenth year since she had met her.

Yesterday, today—saying goodbye to the past and welcoming the future.

Goodbye, Lailai.

Xiao Hao, Happy New Year.

On New Year’s Day, not only was Tan Yanqing not off, but Jian Hao didn’t have a holiday either; she still had to go to school.

Tan Yanqing got up early, intending to prepare breakfast. If she were alone, she would have eaten at the bureau’s canteen, but with Jian Hao there, she habitually wanted to prepare a meal for two. Although Jian Hao’s upbringing was mostly handled by Jian You, she had become quite adept at taking care of her over the years.

She didn’t know how Jian Hao would treat her from now on—would she break things off, or…?

Tan Yanqing hadn’t slept well last night; her complexion was pale. Thinking about this, her brow furrowed. She had originally wanted to talk to Jian Hao in a gentle manner, but she hadn’t expected last night’s situation to occur, turning their relationship rigid.

Tan Yanqing washed her face. While drying it, she looked at herself in the mirror. It seemed as if a few flakes of last night’s snow had landed on her head. There were more gray hairs.

Going downstairs, she was still thinking about what to cook, but the aroma of food was already wafting from the kitchen. Tan Yanqing froze on the last step of the stairs.

Jian Hao happened to come out of the kitchen and saw her. Tan Yanqing’s throat tightened; her heart leaped into her mouth. What would Jian Hao say to her? Or would she ignore her completely?

She was still greedy. She didn’t want Jian Hao to break off with her and ignore her from then on. But how could Jian Hao still want to talk to her? She had been so heartless last night. Jian Hao surely wouldn’t want to see her.

Seeing that Jian Hao was coming out of the kitchen, she figured the girl wouldn’t go hungry. Tan Yanqing turned to go back upstairs.

“Good morning, Auntie!”

A crisp greeting made Tan Yanqing’s feet take root. She stood there, frozen.

The sun hadn’t risen yet; it was pitch black outside, as if the house were surrounded by spilled ink. The lights in the living room were bright, yet they weren’t as brilliant as the smile on Jian Hao’s face.

It took Tan Yanqing two seconds to react: “…Mhm.”

Jian Hao smiled and said, “The first meal of the New Year should be something good! But I woke up late and didn’t have enough time, so I only made steamed egg custard. It’s meant to symbolize a ‘rising’ year ahead.”

Jian Hao’s eyes were so swollen they looked like she’d been punched twice last night, yet her tone was as cheerful as if she’d won five million in the lottery yesterday. This strange behavior made Tan Yanqing’s gaze linger on her face for a few extra seconds.

Jian Hao acted as if she didn’t notice, saying obediently, “It’ll be ready soon. Have you washed up yet, Auntie? If not, go ahead and do that first.”

Tan Yanqing’s gaze shifted from Jian Hao’s face to the kitchen. “I’ll do it.”

Jian Hao didn’t refuse. “Then I’ll go pack my backpack.”

“Mhm.”

“Turn off the heat in three minutes~”

With that, Jian Hao pattered back into the guest room. Once she was gone, Tan Yanqing went into the kitchen.

Three minutes passed. Tan Yanqing turned off the heat. Jian Hao emerged from her room with her backpack in one hand, while the other was busy gathering her hair. She had a hair tie in her mouth; only after putting her backpack on the sofa did she have a free hand to tie her hair back.

She sat down at the dining table and said naturally to Tan Yanqing, “It snowed last night and the roads are bad. Auntie, could you drive me to school in a bit?”

Tan Yanqing gave an “Mhm.”

Jian Hao smiled at her. “I won’t have to shiver at the bus stop—having a private car service makes me feel so lucky.”

Tan Yanqing happened to enter the kitchen then; the curtain provided a convenient excuse not to reply. When she emerged again, she was holding a folded, soft, steaming triangular egg pancake. Fearing the egg custard alone wouldn’t be filling enough, she had whipped up a batter in those three minutes; these pancakes cooked very quickly on a griddle.

She placed the pancake in front of Jian Hao.

Jian Hao said sweetly, “Thanks, Auntie~”

Breakfast was ordinary yet warm. It was as if last night had never happened, as if the time travel, the disappearance, and the confession were all just a dream shared by the two of them. A dream difficult to speak of, a misty dream, a dream never told to anyone else—one they both knew, yet buried deep in their hearts, never even telling each other.

And this seemed to be the best conclusion for them. Never mentioning past love, only maintaining the kinship of the past.

The snow had fallen heavily last night; the world outside the car was draped in silver. Even Tan Yanqing’s car was covered in a thick layer. Before driving, they worked together to sweep the snow away.

Inside the car, the heater was on, and it wasn’t cold at all. Jian Hao gazed out the window, her eyes sweeping past a small shop selling candied haws.

She suddenly remembered last winter—she and Tan Yanqing had bought candied haws from that very shop. She loved the glutinous rice ones, but that day she also wanted to try the strawberry flavor. Tan Yanqing didn’t usually eat such things, but after she mentioned it, Tan Yanqing bought an extra strawberry stick. She took one bite of a strawberry to taste it, then went back to her glutinous rice haws; Tan Yanqing was the one who ended up finishing the strawberry stick.

A very, very small thing. So small she wouldn’t normally think of it or reminisce. They had only ever visited that shop once.

She really shouldn’t have remembered it. But as her gaze swept past the places she and Tan Yanqing had been—the sweet potato stall at the intersection, the milk tea shop by the road, the restaurant they only visited once because it was terrible… she realized that these ordinary days were the true “sugar” of memory—small, quiet happiness.

The candied haws that day were delicious.

Jian Hao turned back and said to Tan Yanqing, “Auntie, I was immature yesterday and made things difficult for you. It won’t happen again.”

She giggled. “You absolutely must not ignore me. I still want to eat and drink your stuff.”

Tan Yanqing, focusing on her driving, replied: “…I won’t.”

Jian Hao gave an “Mhm” and said, “Maybe it’s like my mom said—I’m still young and don’t know what love is. My feelings for you might just be over-dependence…”

She let out a light laugh. “In a few days, once I’ve settled down, I’ll find someone my age to date and see how it goes. When the time comes, I’ll bring them to meet you so you can be at ease.”

Tan Yanqing’s expressionless face suddenly faltered; the light in her eyes stiffened.

The car had reached the vicinity of the school. Jian Hao saw many cars parked ahead and said, “Auntie, stop here. It’ll be hard to turn around further up.”

Tan Yanqing slowly pulled over. Once the car came to a complete stop, she watched Jian Hao unbuckling her seatbelt out of the corner of her eye. She hesitated for a few seconds before saying: “At your current stage, you should still focus your attention on your studies.”

“Oh, whatever. My mom said I don’t even have to study if I don’t want to; she’ll support me.”

“Then you still want to eat and drink my stuff?”

Jian Hao opened the door and got out with her backpack. A blast of cold air rushed in, instantly turning the warm cabin into a freezer. She turned back and winked mischievously: “One extra person isn’t too many, but one less just won’t do.”

“Jian Hao!”

A classmate was calling her name. Jian Hao turned to reply, then looked back at Tan Yanqing and said, “Auntie, drive safely.”

Then, with a thud, the car door closed.

Tan Yanqing didn’t leave immediately. She sat in the car, watching Jian Hao jog over to her classmate, and the two walked into the school side-by-side.