Chapter Thirty-Five: Jiang Chen, Don’t Be Afraid

Jiang Chen said, “Mm, I’ll be in Class Two from now on.”

The boy’s eyes flickered, but he said nothing about his absence from the exam; he simply told Ye Mian the outcome.

Ye Mian bit her lip, feeling a tug at her heart. She wanted to ask more, but Jiang Chen had already walked past her into the classroom of Class Two.

As always, Jiang Chen was aloof at school, avoiding any opportunity to speak with her.

For the next few days, Ye Mian didn’t see him at all.

Before she knew it, Friday after school had arrived.

Ye Mian sat in her family’s small courtyard as a fine rain began to drift from the sky.

Old neighbor Aunt Zhang walked by, carrying a bag of fresh jujubes.

She knocked on the half-open gate of Ye Mian’s house. “Is Ye Mian home?”

Ye Mian looked up and smiled. “I’m here, Aunt Zhang.”

Aunt Zhang smiled and nodded, opening the cloth in her basket. “I brought you some jujubes to snack on.”

The jujubes came from the old tree in Aunt Zhang’s yard—a sturdy, ancient tree that took up most of her garden. Every autumn, it bore a bounty of fruit.

Once the jujubes ripened, Aunt Zhang would pick them one by one, wash them clean, and share them with neighbors.

Ye Mian had grown up eating these jujubes.

After graduating from college and moving to a new home, the old tree was cut down by developers. She never tasted jujubes as sweet as those again.

Ye Mian took the basket from Aunt Zhang, feeling its weight in her hands.

“Thank you, Aunt Zhang,” she said, smiling as she emptied the jujubes into a large bowl and handed the basket back.

Aunt Zhang’s smile deepened, warmth shining in her eyes—such a pretty, polite, and sensible girl. Who wouldn’t like her?

Seeing Ye Mian alone, Aunt Zhang invited her over to her own courtyard.

On an autumn afternoon, the rain carried the fresh scent of jujubes through the air. The tall tree still bore clusters of fruit at its crown.

The lower branches had been mostly picked clean.

Aunt Zhang sat under the eaves, sorting out the bad fruit pecked by birds.

Knowing Ye Mian was well-behaved, she brought out sweet osmanthus cakes for her, insisting she not help.

Ye Mian nibbled the soft, sweet cake, gazing over the courtyard wall.

Uncle Hu hurried in, shaking his head. “Ah, the Jiang family’s in chaos again. It’s nothing short of child abuse—what a mess.”

Aunt Zhang responded, “What happened now?”

Uncle Hu picked up a jujube from the ground and wiped it on his trousers. “Old Jiang came back a few days ago, brought a crowd of creditors with him. Took all of young Jiang’s money—it wasn’t enough, so he ran off again, leaving the creditors with the child. That was Jiang’s own savings for tuition!”

Ye Mian was stunned.

Aunt Zhang’s hands froze among the jujubes, and she quickly asked, “Where are they? What’s happening now?”

Uncle Hu pointed west. “Over in the west alley—a bunch of fierce-looking men, blocking the gate and letting no one in.”

Ye Mian couldn’t help but glance west. She put down the osmanthus cake and stood up. “Uncle, Aunt, I’ll head back now.”

With that, she hurried off.

The autumn wind carried a chill with the drizzle. Jiang Chen stood outside the gate, facing the creditors left behind by that man—eight towering, surly men.

A middle-aged man slammed the door, cursing. “Where did your father go? We’re not making things difficult for you—just bring him out. We’ve been waiting for days.”

He saw Jiang Chen’s indifference and kicked the door again, swearing.

Jiang Chen’s dark eyes watched him silently. The once soft features had grown sharper and cold, sweeping over the men, making them all shudder.

In a law-abiding society, they dared not resort to violence, but neither would they accept defeat.

The men continued to pressure and curse.

…

Ye Mian’s steps were hurried.

The thought of Jiang Chen being bullied made her miserable, her expression more serious than ever.

She walked faster.

Faster still.

She would see Jiang Chen soon.

In the end, she nearly broke into a run, her heart heavy and anxious.

At the corner of the west alley, Ye Mian stopped.

She was warm, breathing hard, her face flushed in the cool breeze.

At last, she saw Jiang Chen at his home.

Compared to their last meeting at school, he seemed even thinner.

He wore a black hoodie under a jacket; his hair had grown longer, slightly veiling his eyes, his expression colder.

A crowd of neighbors stood nearby, talking in hushed tones.

It was much like the last time there was a fire—but this time, no one dared step forward to help.

Ye Mian pushed through the crowd, her heart pounding wildly with every step.

She told herself to stay calm.

But the heavyset man was already reaching to grab Jiang Chen’s collar.

Ye Mian, furious, forgot all about being calm. She rushed over, pulled Jiang Chen away, and swiftly turned.

Her eyes were slightly red—whether from cold or anger, she didn’t know.

She faced the men in silence, picked up her phone, and dialed 110. “Hello, police? I’d like to report a crime. There’s a gang here trying to extort money.”

She spoke with conviction, giving the address and her name, leaving no time for the men to react.

The eight men: ?

The lead middle-aged man looked at the girl with suspicion and snapped, “You can say anything, but you shouldn’t make things up. We’re just collecting debts—it’s perfectly reasonable. Why are you meddling, little girl? Just call the police, then.”

Ye Mian ignored him, standing firmly in front of Jiang Chen, not retreating an inch.

Even as she phoned the police, she found time to gently comfort the boy, “Jiang Chen, don’t be afraid.”

…

It was too much.

It was almost cruel.

Seeing both of them ignore him, the middle-aged man nearly lost his mind.

Was this how young people behaved now? No argument, just calling the police?

What could he do? He couldn’t let the police really come.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave either.

He frowned, trying to snatch the phone from the girl’s hand.

But his hand was caught by a cold, pale one—his fingers twisted upward with a sharp force.

He gasped in pain, furious. “You brat, don’t you know your place?”

Ye Mian turned to him, her voice calm but loud enough for everyone to hear: “Yes, those men are trying to assault someone.”

The middle-aged man: ? Who was being assaulted here?

He was out of patience, pointed at Jiang Chen. “You’ve got guts, you—”

Before he could finish, police sirens wailed in the old city.

“Damn, that girl really called the police. Let’s go.”

Knowing they had no case, the men clenched their fists, retreating.

The middle-aged man tried to turn back and threaten them, but he froze.

Jiang Chen radiated a fierce aura, his gaze sharp as a blade, as if he could drag someone to hell.

The man nursed his aching fingers, jumped into the van, and sped away.

Ye Mian finally put down her phone, turning carefully to Jiang Chen, her voice full of concern. “Jiang Chen, are you hurt? Did they bully you?”