Little Meteor Chapter 24
byChapter 24 Stolen
Shen Mu bought breakfast for his parents in the morning, and only left after confirming there was nothing urgent that needed immediate attention.
He couldn’t bring lunch to his brother today, so he bought a Black Forest cake on the way. The Security Guard was surprised to see him today and asked very genuinely about his father’s condition. Shen Mu said his father was fine, just exhausted, and would be discharged after two days of rest.
The Security Guard sighed, opened the registration book, and began logging the entry: “Ah, when something like this happens in the family, even when an elder falls ill, they can’t rest easy. They have to worry and run back and forth. There’s no one who can truly lend a hand, and yet you can’t ignore it. It’s really tough on you, kid.”
Shen Mu smiled: “It’s what I should do. I’ll head in now.”
Xiao Hao was the same as always; eating was instinctual. Shen Mu asked him if he knew who he was, but Xiao Hao only focused on burying his head in the cake. Shen Mu patted his shoulder: “You can’t eat unless you answer.”
Xiao Hao made a muffled sound in his throat: “Little brother.”
Shen Mu sighed, watched him finish, wiped his mouth, took him to shower, and sat with Xiao Hao until visiting hours ended. Shen Mu stood up, nodded to the caregiver, and bent down to straighten Xiao Hao’s collar: “Brother, I’m leaving. I’ll come see you next time.”
Xiao Hao couldn’t possibly respond. Leaving the Wellness and Rehabilitation Center, Shen Mu suddenly felt incredibly tired. He suddenly missed Jiang Chengxuan terribly, wanting to hear his voice.
He could only wish.
He returned home to pick up a change of clothes for his father, bought some fruit, and took it to the hospital room. His mother asked him: “Did you see Xiao Hao? How is he?”
Shen Mu peeled an orange: “He’s doing well. He doesn’t look thin, and his mood is stable. I even brought him a cake, and he held it and ate it himself. His appetite is good.”
“Ate it himself?” His mother sounded a little worried. “Did he make a mess everywhere? Will the caregiver auntie find it troublesome?”
“It was fine, just a little on his mouth. I wiped him clean.” Shen Mu broke half the orange for his father and the other half for his mother, then picked up an apple and started peeling it. “Later, I took him to shower and changed him into clean clothes.”
His father looked at him, frowning: “I told you, leave the bathing to the caregiver. You don’t need to wash him.”
“It was convenient,” Shen Mu smiled. “Brother was very quiet; he didn’t fuss.”
The old man in the next bed chimed in: “Old Shen, look how wonderful your younger son is—so filial and thoughtful. Whichever girl marries him in the future will be blessed!”
He changed the subject, looking intently at Shen Mu: “Little Shen, you’re so excellent and handsome. You must have a girlfriend, right? When are you getting married?”
The hospital room was silent for a few seconds. His mother laughed: “Not yet. If you know anyone suitable, please introduce them.”
Shen Mu’s hand paused while peeling the apple. Shen Mu’s father smiled and said to the old man: “It’s pointless for us to worry. Young people these days don’t rush into marriage; they focus on their careers. We’ll let them be.”
The old man frowned, clearly disagreeing with Shen Mu’s father: “You must focus on your career, but you can’t delay your life’s major events! It’s best to find someone while you’re young, and ideally have a child so that you can still hold them and help raise your grandchild…”
Shen Mu’s hand trembled, and the tip of the knife instantly sliced his thumb. A bead of blood immediately welled up.
“Oh dear! What happened!” Shen Mu’s mother abruptly stood up, grabbed Shen Mu’s hand, pulled out several tissues, and pressed them tightly against the wound, her voice frantic: “How could you be so careless!”
His father immediately pressed the nurse call button: “How did you cut your hand? Is it deep? Quick, press down hard!”
“It’s nothing, nothing, just a scratch, a small cut.” Shen Mu tried to pull his hand back, but his mother held it tightly.
The old man in the next bed was also startled and sheepishly fell silent.
A nurse quickly arrived with iodine swabs and a bandage. Shen Mu’s mother finally let go. The nurse disinfected the wound. It wasn’t deep, just a broken skin layer, and the bleeding stopped quickly.
“It’s fine, the cut isn’t big. Just make sure not to get it wet.”
“Thank you, Nurse.” Shen Mu’s mother couldn’t help but scold Shen Mu: “You child, you even zone out while peeling an apple.”
His father looked at his son’s bandaged finger, his brow still furrowed: “Alright, stop peeling.”
“Okay, I won’t peel anymore.” Shen Mu put the half-peeled apple and the fruit knife aside. “It’s really nothing, just a small cut.”
With that interruption, the conversation about marriage and children naturally couldn’t continue. Shen Mu found an excuse to fetch hot water, carried the thermos downstairs, bought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter at the convenience store, and squatted by the roadside to smoke.
He didn’t actually smoke much. He only picked it up during the period when he suffered from anxiety. He smoked heavily then, but later quit. He didn’t have any technique for smoking; he just inhaled mechanically, letting the acrid smoke sting his lungs. This physiological stimulation temporarily masked the unvented stagnation and exhaustion in his heart.
The phone in his pocket vibrated. He felt a little impatient, swiped to answer without checking the caller ID, his voice hoarse from the smoke: “Hello?”
“It’s me,” Jiang Chengxuan’s voice was still gentle. “How is Uncle doing?”
Shen Mu actually wanted to cry, but he restrained himself, keeping his tone as light as possible: “False alarm. He was just exhausted, a little insufficient blood supply to the brain vessels. He’ll be discharged after two days of observation.”
He tried hard to force a smile on his end of the phone, even though the other person couldn’t see it: “It’s really nothing. Don’t worry.”
Jiang Chengxuan on the other end was silent for a moment, then spoke: “Shen Mu, what problem do you think pushing me away will solve?”
Shen Mu felt like laughing, but couldn’t.
He was also a storyteller, and he used to scoff at plots where the protagonist, upon encountering difficulty, immediately pushed away the people closest to them—a self-righteous attempt to protect them, filled with melodrama and clichés. He believed communication was the only solution. But what choice did he have now besides pushing Jiang Chengxuan away? The world was full of problems that couldn’t be solved just by having a mouth. He had recognized the reality: the burdens he carried could never truly be lifted. The sense of security he had stolen from Jiang Chengxuan—the freedom to be willful and vulnerable—seemed so distant and unrealistic against the brass walls of reality. He hadn’t even dared to tell his parents that he liked men; their hopes for him to marry and have children could never be fulfilled. When he was little, they often told him, Your brother is already embarrassing enough. I don’t want my younger son to be an embarrassment when people talk about him.
Poor grades were embarrassing, a bad job was embarrassing, and liking men was even more embarrassing. He didn’t care, but his parents would be pointed at for the rest of their lives.
Shen Mu chuckled softly: “Jiang Chengxuan, you are so self-important.”
Jiang Chengxuan hummed, seemingly not understanding. Shen Mu took another drag of his cigarette: “I’m doing fine here. Thank you. I’m hanging up now.”