RHITICSG 09

Chapter 9

“Didn’t you say she’d arrive in a while?” Luo Shuxin’s tone was calm as ever.

“I asked for directions and took a shortcut most people don’t know,” the woman replied, while glancing at the classmate who was currently rummaging through her son’s shopping bag.

Jiang Jian lifted his head a moment too late, feeling strangely guilty—like he’d just been caught stealing.

The woman looked very young—not just because of her smooth skin, but because of the liveliness in her eyes and expressions. She looked bright and animated, almost girlish.

Honestly, if she went without makeup and put on a school uniform, she could probably pass for a high schooler, and no one would doubt it.

Before Jiang Jian could say anything, the woman spoke first.
“Don’t introduce yourself yet—let me guess… you’re Xiao Jian, right?”

Jiang Jian: “……”

She smiled. “I guessed right.”

Jiang Jian: “…Yeah.”

Jiang Jian hesitated. “You… know me?”

The woman laughed softly. “Xiaoxin mentioned you when he got home last night.”

Jiang Jian: “……”

Mentioned that I confessed to him and asked him to meet me behind the school, maybe?

The woman reached out her hand with an easy, friendly confidence that completely ignored the age gap. She introduced herself as if they were equals:

“I’m Luo Yue. Nice to meet you, Xiao Jian.”

Jiang Jian felt like he shouldn’t shake her hand. She was someone he should be calling auntie, by generation at least.

He sneaked a glance at Luo Shuxin—expression blank, as though this kind of situation was nothing new.

Still, Jiang Jian politely extended his hand and shook Luo Yue’s fingertips.

Just when Jiang Jian was wondering what to do with his hands and feet, his phone rang.

He guessed it was Uncle Wang, the driver. Filled with relief, he excused himself to take the call—only to hear that the road ahead was completely blocked, and Uncle Wang couldn’t make it through. The man apologized profusely and told Jiang Jian to just grab a taxi home, reminding him to take a detour.

Jiang Jian didn’t get upset; he even comforted the older man a bit.

Fine. A taxi will do.

Except…

He looked again at the cat in Luo Shuxin’s arms.

“You’re going to adopt it?” he asked.

Luo Shuxin looked at the cat, then at him. “I asked around. It’s a stray that lives on campus.”

Jiang Jian muttered under his breath, “Yeah, but it’s my girlfriend.”

He’d been feeding and looking after this cat since first year. He’d never brought it home, but in his heart, it was already his cat.

Some things, until they change, you think they’ll stay forever.

Like how Jiang Jian had once thought his mom would always be there.
Or how Luo Shuxin had only been here a day, and was already about to take away the cat that had roamed the campus for years.

Jiang Jian reached out and stroked the cat’s head. The ungrateful little thing hissed at him.

No sense of loyalty at all.

“You want to keep it too?” Luo Shuxin asked.

Jiang Jian smiled bitterly. “Forget it. I can barely take care of myself. Better that someone else looks after it. Just… be good to it.”

Reluctantly, Jiang Jian said goodbye to Luo Yue and prepared to leave.

Luo Yue glanced around, and when she didn’t see any sign of Jiang Jian’s guardian, she asked if no one was picking him up. Upon hearing that the driver was stuck in traffic, she cheerfully offered to give him a ride.

Jiang Jian refused again and again, but Luo Yue was so enthusiastic that he ended up feeling like he’d been kidnapped into her car.

And Luo Shuxin?

He just stood there, one hand supporting the cat, watching silently.

At first, Jiang Jian hoped Luo Shuxin would help — maybe say something to talk his mother out of it.

But Luo Shuxin pretended not to notice.

Jiang Jian was furious. Sitting in the car, he felt like his soul had split in two — one half despairing over being outmatched by a woman who was shorter and slimmer than him but somehow still overbearing; the other half furiously beating up an imaginary little Luo Shuxin in his head for not helping!

Couldn’t he at least say something?! Then I wouldn’t have been “abducted” at the school gate!

Meanwhile, Luo Yue remained full of energy, adjusting the GPS while asking for Jiang Jian’s address. He wanted to cry.

“Um…” Jiang Jian started. He wanted to call her Auntie, but looking at her face, the word just wouldn’t come out. Calling her Miss sounded wrong too.

In the end, he swallowed the title and said politely, “You… uh, ma’am.”

“When Luo transferred schools, were you always this friendly with his classmates?”

Luo Yue chuckled. “No, no, you’re special. I’d love to be this friendly more often, but look at his face—he looks like someone who doesn’t have friends, doesn’t he? Tell me, Xiao Jian, you two are friends now, right? Try to include him more. He’s way too quiet. No one really hangs out with him, and since he’s new here, he doesn’t know anyone. Poor kid doesn’t have a single buddy to talk to.”

…Ma’am, your son’s a second-year in high school, not a preschooler.

Still, Jiang Jian instinctively gave the kind of polite compliment you offer adults.
“Luo’s really outstanding—you don’t have to worry. He’ll fit in quickly.”

“How could I not worry?” Luo Yue sighed dramatically. “He looks reliable now, sure—but guess why I came to pick him up tonight?”

Jiang Jian blinked. “Uh… why?”

Luo Yue replied with feeling:
“He walked around our neighborhood three times last night and still couldn’t find our apartment building! He passed our door three times before calling me to come down and get him!”

Jiang Jian turned to stare at Luo Shuxin in shock.

Luo Shuxin didn’t react, letting his mom roast him in peace without even lifting an eyelid.

“Wait… you’re directionally challenged?” Jiang Jian blurted.

Only then did Luo Shuxin raise his gaze, giving Jiang Jian a cool, expressionless look.

…And Jiang Jian completely lost it inside. Pfft—HAHAHAHA!

He couldn’t hold back the laughter bubbling in his chest.

From the driver’s seat, Luo Yue let out a long sigh.
“We’ve lived there almost a week, and he still can’t remember the way home. With a son like this, you think I’d dare let him wander around alone?”

“It’s not that bad,” Luo Shuxin said mildly.

Luo Yue snapped back, “Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you find the door by yourself yesterday?”

Jiang Jian was laughing so hard his shoulders trembled.

Luo Yue seemed to have no filter at all — she just said whatever came to mind. Within a few minutes, Jiang Jian had learned a whole basketful of embarrassing childhood stories about Luo Shuxin.

The cheerful atmosphere lasted all the way until Jiang Jian got out of the car. Luo Yue even wanted to walk him part of the way home, but Jiang Jian nearly hopped up and down just to prove he had two perfectly working legs.

Before leaving, Luo Yue rose on her tiptoes and ruffled Jiang Jian’s curly hair. “You feeling sick? You look pale. Don’t turn the air conditioner down so low when you get home. You young people think you’re invincible just because you’re healthy…”

Even after Luo Yue’s car drove off, Jiang Jian stood there watching it disappear.

After being in such a warm, lively atmosphere, the sudden quiet left behind an indescribable chill and emptiness.

The smile on his face slowly faded, the corners of his lips drooping until they went completely flat.

It seemed like all moms in the world shared some universal traits —
they loved to tease their kids, to share their childhood embarrassments, and when their children entered new environments, they worried endlessly but never said it directly.

That faint warmth in his chest cooled little by little, until it dissolved into nothing.

It felt like a starving beggar catching the smell of meat buns wafting from a passerby — that delicious, torturous aroma filling his nose.
It smelled so good. It made him ache with longing.
But he couldn’t have any.

After Jiang Jian got out, Luo Shuxin and his mother continued their own trip home.

Luo Yue still wouldn’t stop chattering — maybe a kind of occupational habit.

She was young and beautiful, but had no degree or formal training. Now she worked as a game streamer, and she was really good at it. Though not a huge influencer, she used a virtual avatar and rarely showed her real face.

As a streamer, silence was the enemy — she was used to filling every gap with talk, keeping the mood light and animated.

Holding the cat’s paws, Luo Shuxin listened to his mother first praising Jiang Jian’s looks, then his sweet and polite personality.

Then Luo Yue asked, excitedly, “He’s the boy who gave you that love letter yesterday, right?”

Luo Shuxin froze mid-motion. “I told you already — that was a misunderstanding.”

When Luo Shuxin got home the night before, Luo Yue had been helping tidy up his school uniform, and found a pink, perfume-scented envelope tucked in his jacket pocket.

Luo Yue wasn’t the conservative type; far from being angry, she was thrilled.

She’d hidden the letter behind her back and tried to casually pry the truth out of her son.

But Luo Shuxin had no idea the letter was even there. When she asked, he’d just answered absentmindedly, saying, “There was a letter, but it wasn’t for me — some boy handed it over by mistake. Judging from his reaction, he was probably being pranked.”

That one sentence doubled Luo Yue’s curiosity — she’d only found one love letter, and now there was apparently another one from a boy?

She immediately plopped herself down at her son’s desk, refusing to leave until he spilled every bit of gossip.

So Luo Shuxin had reluctantly mentioned Jiang Jian’s name.

Now, as she steered the car, Luo Yue said teasingly, “You can date if you want — just don’t do anything you shouldn’t.”

…You can date if you want to? Was that really something a mom should be saying?

Luo Yue burst out laughing. “Why the face? Come on — I started dating in middle school. Got pregnant with you before I even graduated. What right do I have to tell you not to date?”

Luo Shuxin’s hand paused where it was buried in the cat’s fur.

Luo Yue had gotten pregnant at fifteen or sixteen — a choice that, in his eyes, had changed and limited her whole life.

He’d never had any say in that, but guilt was something he carried all the same. If it hadn’t been for him, she could have gone further, stood taller, lived freer.

Through the rearview mirror, Luo Yue caught the flicker of emotion in her son’s expression, and for a moment her own smile dimmed, her playful energy stiffening into something quieter.

Then she gave a short, self-deprecating laugh.

“Love’s like that — when you meet the right person, it doesn’t matter if it’s early or late. I’m not against you dating in school, honestly. High school love is rare and precious — once it’s gone, it’s gone. You won’t stay eighteen forever, you know? You’d waste that pretty face I gave you if you don’t at least have one nice romance. Doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or a girl, just don’t pick someone awful.”

Luo Yue’s work as a game streamer had her deep in fandom culture — online fan circles, shipping wars, fanfics — she’d seen it all. She wasn’t old-fashioned in the least. In fact, she was more open-minded than most, and her humor came from hard-won experience.

For her, gender wasn’t a boundary, and after all she’d been through, she’d become someone who could truly take things lightly.

And honestly, if her son did bring home a boyfriend someday?

She’d probably just go out and buy a bigger rice cooker — after all, two grown boys could eat a lot.