Chapter 41: Who Was That? Do You Know Them?
Just now, Jiang Xiaoyuan brazenly shot off a boastful remark at Zhang Tian without a second thought. She said, “If anyone bullies you in the future, just call me. I’ll beat them to a pulp.”
With that, she swiftly strode away, her steps as light as the swordfighters of old, disappearing like the ancient description: “After completing a task, they leave in a swirl, hiding their merits and fame.”
Zhang Tian stood there, dumbfounded, watching Jiang Xiaoyuan’s back. It wasn’t until she had vanished from sight that Zhang Tian finally remembered—wait, what did she mean by “call her”? Jiang Xiaoyuan never even gave her a phone number!
Jiang Xiaoyuan ran faster and faster, feeling both exhilarated and a bit anxious. Ever since she turned ten, she hadn’t gotten into a physical altercation with anyone—not even raising her voice often. Even when she was angry, she would assert her dominance quietly. She wouldn’t even bother opening a drink by herself, let alone getting into a street fight.
She never imagined that one day she would have such a moment of reckoning.
…Of course, she also never imagined that one day she’d be darting through the streets, lugging around a 20-pound toolbox belonging to Teacher Jiang.
Jiang Xiaoyuan sprinted out of the alley, as time relentlessly pushed her forward. The thick foliage cast swaying shadows on the ground.
Summer break was approaching, and soon she’d be trailing behind Jiang Bo in the scorching heat, rushing from place to place again. Also, she heard that in autumn, the registration for the next round of professional makeup artist exams would begin. She wanted to give it a try, aiming to skip the beginner and intermediate levels and directly test for the advanced level. After all, she had helped with advanced tutoring classes for over a year. But for the eligibility to register, she still had to rely on Teacher Jiang to secure her a student status.
The Empress Dowager Jiang would surely help, though she’d probably have some sharp words to say.
As Jiang Xiaoyuan ran, she calculated the things she had to do—there were so many.
Despite being alone, she didn’t feel lonely at all, almost driving herself crazy with all these thoughts.
When would she finally make her mark in this city? When could she live comfortably?
Three years? Five years?
Would that elderly woman, who had passed away in another time and space many years ago, still be around to see that day?
Jiang Xiaoyuan hopped on the subway and halfway through her journey, got a call from Jiang Bo: “Where have you been? Come to my office. I need you to grade the theory exam papers.”
It was rare for Jiang Peng to sound so curt. He preferred to argue face-to-face, but over the phone, his Empress Dowager tone would lazily drag out, making you want to scratch him.
Jiang Xiaoyuan thought to herself, “What’s wrong with this guy today?”
She cursed him inwardly but quickly rushed to Jiang Bo’s office, where she hadn’t stayed for more than a few days. As soon as she opened the door, she was stunned—today, the Empress Dowager was wearing a hat.
Chen Fangzhou liked wearing hats to appear a few centimeters taller, but Jiang Bo preferred styling his hair, using half a pound of gel every day. He never wore hats.
Jiang Xiaoyuan asked in surprise, “Why are you wearing a hat in this heat? Are you sick?”
Jiang Bo looked up at her with a gloomy expression, his eyes shadowed by the hat’s brim.
He didn’t bicker with her, just raised his chin and pointed at a pile of theory exam papers. “The answer key’s over there. Ask me if you have questions.”
After that, the Empress Dowager moved his gaze away and stared blankly at his computer screen without blinking.
His demeanor was so deep and solemn that it looked like he was planning to blow up the White House.
Jiang Xiaoyuan thought something major had happened, and a series of wild ideas flashed through her mind—
Is our country going to war with Japan?
Is the government about to ban the makeup artist industry?
Or are cosmetics finally going to be tax-free?
Jiang Xiaoyuan didn’t dare to say more. She cautiously peeked over…
As a result, she found Jiang Peng seriously playing a game of Solitaire.
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”
Jiang Peng noticed her peeking and said in a dissatisfying tone, “What are you looking at? Get back to work!”
Jiang Xiaoyuan rolled her eyes and increasingly appreciated the importance of being a capitalist. While twirling a pen, she whimsically thought, “When I become successful, I’ll hire a dozen or so handsome guys with sword-like eyebrows as my assistants to do my work, massage me, polish my shoes, and turn my computer on and off while I sit on the sofa playing Solitaire with the sound on…”
Suddenly, she stopped talking, her nose, used to various scents, caught a whiff of something discordant.
The smell of medicine?
Jiang Xiaoyuan bent down and cautiously looked from below, only to find a trace of a bandage at the edge of Jiang Bo’s hat.
“I said,” Jiang Xiaoyuan asked, “What happened to your head?”
Empress Dowager Jiang ignored her, not even raising her eyelids.
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “You can’t cover it like that in the summer; it could get infected.”
Jiang Bo remained silent, and Jiang Xiaoyuan, feeling bold, reached out and directly took off his hat. The energy above Jiang Bo’s neck was largely expressed in his hair; the fashionable hairstyle had been flattened by the hat, making him look like a frost-bitten eggplant, tired and drooping, with a piece of white gauze wrapped around his forehead.
“Oh my God, what on earth happened to you?” Jiang Xiaoyuan asked in a low voice.
This definitely wasn’t some accidental injury. Jiang Bo moved like a weak willow swaying in the wind, walking very slowly as if afraid of stepping on a fly. Besides a car accident, it was unlikely he’d get himself into this state—of course, if it were a car accident, he wouldn’t have just this one injury.
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Who did this? Some punk? A robbery? Should we call the police?”
Jiang Bo: “It’s nothing, just get back to your work.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan frowned, sensing his resistance, and silently sat back down without asking further.
She vaguely felt that something was about to happen. In the room, only the sound of her pen scratching the paper and Jiang Bo clicking the mouse could be heard.
After more than two hours, Jiang Xiaoyuan finished grading all the theoretical exam papers. She stretched but noticed Jiang Bo was looking at her.
Empress Dowager Jiang: “Any questions about the answers?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “There’s one fill-in-the-blank question that I corrected.”
Jiang Bo: “Why didn’t you ask me?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “You made those course materials; do I really need to ask you about this little theory exam?”
Jiang Bo, hearing this, put his hat back on and rested his chin on his interlaced fingers. After a moment, he suddenly said, “Then you should definitely pass the high-level chemistry; after running around with me for so long and getting hands-on experience, it shouldn’t be a problem. By the way, can you sketch?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan eagerly nodded—this was something she was very good at.
Jiang Bo: “I’ll talk to someone at the school later to help you register for next year’s high-level chemistry course in the second half of the year. I think you should be able to pass the exam.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”
Just when she felt a bit sleepy, someone handed her a pillow. She was still unsure how to broach this matter when Empress Dowager Jiang actually took the initiative and resolved it for her!
Jiang Xiaoyuan felt a bit dazed. She was used to misfortune and always felt that no good things would come her way, so this felt unreal.
Empress Dowager Jiang glanced at her, slightly questioning: “What’s wrong? Not okay? Can’t pass?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “No, no… It’s just that I think you… you’re…”
Jiang Bo: “What about me?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…you’re like a weasel paying respects to a chicken…”
She blurted it out and immediately regretted it, bracing for a storm of scolding. But surprisingly, Jiang Bo just frowned.
Jiang Xiaoyuan quickly apologized, signaling that she didn’t mean to start a fight: “Teacher Jiang, I was wrong.”
Jiang Bo chuckled bitterly: “That’s not it… If you pass the high-level chemistry, you won’t have to keep being someone’s sidekick. A friend of mine has a styling design studio; I can recommend you there. The starting salary might not be much, about the same as your current assistant job, but if you keep working hard like you do now, in three to five years, the pay will definitely improve.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan was taken aback: “You don’t want me anymore?”
Jiang Bo didn’t say anything for a long time. Then he suddenly took out a pack of cigarettes from his drawer, silently lit one—he usually didn’t smoke; one, it stains the fingers and looks unappealing; two, smoking too much leaves a smell that annoys clients who dislike it.
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Teacher Jiang, what’s wrong with me?”
Jiang Bo: “You’ve learned most of what you need at school; there’s no real benefit to continuing being my assistant. Besides, what you learn at school is always different from reality…”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Wasn’t I interning while helping you with private work?”
Jiang Bo sighed: “Helping out is different from being independent.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan felt more wronged than Dou E[mfn]Dou E Yuan, commonly translated as The Injustice to Dou E, and also known as Snow in Midsummer, is a Chinese zaju play written by Guan Hanqing during the Yuan dynasty. The story follows a child bride turned widow, Dou E, who is wrongly convicted of crimes by a corrupt court official for actions perpetrated by a rejected suitor, Zhang the mule.[/mfn]: “Have you no conscience, Your Majesty? Whenever you were too busy, you always just handed me a sample and told me to figure it out. If only you’d let me keep assisting you!”
Jiang Bo: “…”
He reflected for a moment: “That’s true, I’ve been quite demanding of you these past six months.”
The rare moment of self-reflection didn’t comfort Jiang Xiaoyuan; she unconsciously shifted her weight, feeling increasingly anxious.
Jiang Bo took a deep drag from his cigarette, doing it clumsily, the smoke billowing everywhere. He ended up snuffing out half of it in the ashtray and slightly pushed his hat up: “It’s not your problem; it’s me. I feel a bit bored and might not want to do this anymore.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan’s eyes brightened: “Resigning to start a studio?”
Many stylists with a solid client base tend to open their own studios once they gain fame and build connections. In Jiang Xiaoyuan’s view, Teacher Jiang had been qualified for this long ago. She placed her hands on Jiang Bo’s desk, quickly calculating her finances: “I should be able to afford rent now. I’ll work with you!”
Jiang Bo looked at her tiredly: “…find a job after resigning.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan was a bit confused, about to speak, but Jiang Bo interrupted her irritably: “Don’t ask. I mean I don’t want to stay in this industry anymore, I’m quitting, washing my hands of it. Got it?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…Then what will you do?”
“I don’t know.” Jiang Bo exhaled slowly, “A company? A public institution? Just find a random place to do administrative work—after all, I studied business management; I can drive too.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan gasped: “Are you okay?”
Jiang Bo shrugged expressionlessly, a hint of cold self-mockery on his face. He took off a watch that was hard to tell if it was real or fake and casually tossed it on the desk: “After you finish grading, register everything, and upload it to the school’s website. Deliver the papers to the academic affairs office for record—once you’re done, you can clock out. I’m leaving first.”
“Wait,” Jiang Xiaoyuan grabbed the door frame, “You get thousands just for one catwalk appearance, and even if you don’t open a studio, you have a bunch of fixed clients—didn’t you just say last week that you wanted to go to the US to study film special effects, preparing to officially enter the film industry? After interviews and connections, after so long… now you tell me you want to find a place for administration? Are you out of your mind?”
Jiang Bo pushed her head aside and walked out quickly: “What does it have to do with you? Mind your own business.”
Suddenly a thought surged into Jiang Xiaoyuan’s throat, and she called after Jiang Bo’s retreating figure: “Who will still know you as Jiang Sam in the future? Just wait and see as you turn from Little Jiang into Balding Old Jiang with a beer belly? I see that you won’t need to wear those fake and real mixed things anymore; no one cares anyway!”
Jiang Bo’s steps suddenly paused. He was tall and slender, with a slim figure. His long legs, clad in tight pants, had an artistic aura that transcended gender… only when he spoke did he seem a bit effeminate. He often drew attention on the street for his extraordinary style.
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Why are you doing this!?”
In the end, Jiang Bo still didn’t respond and walked away.
A student happened to pass by the office door and was scared by Jiang Xiaoyuan’s shout, not daring to enter. Trembling, they watched Teacher Jiang’s figure disappear before cautiously poking their head in to look at Jiang Xiaoyuan: “There is a letter from Teacher Jiang, I brought it in for him…”
Jiang Xiaoyuan forced herself to calm down and, with a displeased expression, thanked the student as she took the package.
She discovered that it was actually a letter from abroad. The sender had been very thoughtful, filling in the recipient’s address in Chinese, fearing the delivery person might not find the place. After hesitating for a moment, Jiang Xiaoyuan locked the office door and chased after him.
Jiang Bo wasn’t walking fast, and Jiang Xiaoyuan caught up with him not far from the school gate.
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Hey, your letter.”
Jiang Bo silently took it and, standing by the roadside, opened it in front of Jiang Xiaoyuan. Inside was another small envelope labeled “Invitation.” The envelope was colorful, and upon closer inspection, it was adorned with various movie special effects designs. It also included a handwritten note, which Jiang Xiaoyuan quickly glanced at, seeing the last line that read, “Sincerely looking forward to your arrival.”
Her heart suddenly raced, and she couldn’t help but ask, “This… it wouldn’t be the invitation for that special effects training class, would it?”
Jiang Bo looked at her in surprise: “You are good at English?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan shamelessly replied: “I was the top scorer in the county’s high school entrance exam.”
Jiang Bo held the invitation, neither opening it nor throwing it away, and his face showed no expression. Yet for some reason, Jiang Xiaoyuan sensed a hint of pain on his face.
“Teacher Jiang,” Jiang Xiaoyuan said softly, “I don’t know what your reasons are, and you won’t tell me… but being as amazing as you are surely wasn’t easy. For someone like me, just to get a good score in chemistry, I had to prepare for so long. Can’t you reconsider?”
Jiang Bo glanced at her.
Since revealing her true self in front of him, Jiang Xiaoyuan had rarely spoken so softly.
“Please,” Jiang Xiaoyuan pleaded, “think about it again. Otherwise, all your previous efforts and hard work running around will have been in vain. How can a person not cherish their own hard work?”
As she spoke, she began to feel a lump in her throat. Others only see if someone is successful, rich, or powerful; who but oneself can know how much effort is hidden behind that?
If she didn’t cherish it herself, it would be truly pitiful.
Jiang Bo looked deeply at her, perhaps finally yielding to the precious invitation. After a moment, he nodded: “…I’ll think about it.”
With that, he waved goodbye to Jiang Xiaoyuan and took a taxi away.
Jiang Xiaoyuan stood there, heavy with thoughts for a moment before turning to cross the street, preparing to return to school and continue her work of recording grades. The road at the school gate wasn’t very wide, without traffic lights, just a small sidewalk. As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she suddenly heard a loud “vroom,” like a car revving its engine.
Before Jiang Xiaoyuan could react, someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her back slightly as a brightly painted pink car sped by where she had just been standing.
The driver likely hadn’t intended to hit her but was definitely trying to scare her.
Jiang Xiaoyuan’s hair stood on end as she turned around, only to find it was Qi Lian who had pulled her back.
Qi Lian watched the pink car go by in a cloud of dust, then released Jiang Xiaoyuan, expressionless as he took off his glasses to wipe them: “I called out to you several times, but you didn’t hear me—who was that just now? Do you know him?”
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