Little Meteor Chapter 36
byChapter 36: “I really am here for you.”
Jiang Chengxuan woke up in the morning and reached out, finding the space beside him empty. He sat up, just about to call Shen Mu, when Shen Mu walked in carrying breakfast. “You’re awake? Hurry up and wash up, then eat.”
Shen Mu hadn’t slept again last night. Although he hadn’t tossed and turned, Jiang Chengxuan knew from his breathing that he hadn’t fallen asleep. Jiang Chengxuan didn’t expose him. He stretched out a long arm, pulled Shen Mu over, and held him without moving for a long time. Shen Mu placed his hand on the back of Jiang Chengxuan’s head and stroked it twice. “Did you fall asleep again?”
Jiang Chengxuan closed his eyes and said, “No.”
A half-asleep Jiang Chengxuan could be quite clingy, a stark contrast to his usual self. Every time Shen Mu saw him like this, his heart softened. He let Jiang Chengxuan hold him for a while, then patted his shoulder. “Enough hugging. Hurry up and wash up.”
Jiang Chengxuan released him and asked, “How is Uncle?”
“He’s fine. It was never anything serious. He was discharged just now.”
His father had been angered by him. Shen Mu was worried about his father’s health, but he was also afraid that seeing him would upset his father again, so he had gone stealthily. Fortunately, his father was fine, otherwise his guilt would have been even heavier.
When Jiang Chengxuan finished washing up and came out, he saw Shen Mu eating fried dough sticks dipped in congee. Although his mouth was chewing, his mind was clearly wandering. Jiang Chengxuan was genuinely worried about his state. After breakfast, he forcefully dragged Shen Mu to the hospital to get a number.
Hospital management in the small county was not as standardized as in big cities. Appointments could be easily cut in line, and doctors often communicated using local dialects, creating a noisy, chaotic environment. Jiang Chengxuan had grown up in a big city. Although he often heard about the strained medical resources and the difficulty ordinary people faced seeing a doctor in small counties, this was the first time he had witnessed such a scene firsthand. As a doctor, he possessed professional ethics and believed patients should trust their doctors unconditionally, but looking at the chaotic environment before him, it was genuinely hard not to doubt the medical standards here.
Shen Mu held a lollipop in his mouth. He had wanted to smoke, but Jiang Chengxuan wouldn’t let him. “A few years ago, I was diagnosed with anxiety disorder in a big city. When I came back, my medical records were synchronized directly. The doctor can just look at my past medical history and prescribe medication.”
Jiang Chengxuan asked Shen Mu to show him his previous medical records. He had never asked Shen Mu to show them before, partly because he worried Shen Mu wouldn’t want to, and partly because medical records were private, and he needed to respect that.
Shen Mu didn’t move. After a long pause, he said, “Don’t look.”
Jiang Chengxuan looked at him. “Shen Mu.”
Doctors were quite intimidating when they put on a cold face. Shen Mu sighed, took out his phone, and showed him the electronic medical records.
Severe anxiety, moderate depression.
The medication records at the end of the file—Paroxetine, Alprazolam, Zopiclone—were all powerful prescription drugs.
Shen Mu saw Jiang Chengxuan’s lips pressed into a straight line. He took the phone back from his hand. “I told you not to look. It will only make you feel bad.”
The broadcast called Shen Mu’s number. Jiang Chengxuan followed him into the consultation room. The consultation process was quick. The doctor wrote the prescription and immediately moved on to the next patient. It wasn’t until they left the hospital that Jiang Chengxuan spoke, his voice slightly hoarse. “Do your parents know?”
Shen Mu smiled. “They know, but they only know I have severe anxiety.”
In the early years, people here didn’t have much understanding of depression. They thought people with depression were just overthinking things and imagining themselves to be mentally ill. The older generation couldn’t understand it, saying that people who got depression hadn’t suffered enough hardship. Shen Mu was too lazy to argue with them, so he only told them he had anxiety disorder.
Jiang Chengxuan knew that depression patients often felt a sense of shame about their illness, and the vast majority of that shame was inflicted by the people around them. The thing doctors most avoided was having too much empathy, as there was only so much they could do. Jiang Chengxuan looked at him, silent for a long time. Shen Mu knew he was feeling distressed for him. He smiled and said, “It’s okay, really. It’s all in the past.”
It was impossible for it to be in the past. Some things never truly passed, but as Shen Mu said, whether he could move on or not, he had to.
Shen Mu hadn’t slept for several days, only getting a few hours of sleep yesterday. Jiang Chengxuan was worried that continuing to push himself like this would cause health problems. He watched him take a sleeping pill and lie down. The sleeping pill took effect quickly, and Shen Mu fell asleep within moments. Jiang Chengxuan lay with him for a while before getting up.
The sleeping pill’s effect lasted eight hours, so Shen Mu wouldn’t wake up anytime soon. Jiang Chengxuan took his phone and left the hotel, opening the map navigation.
Shen Mu’s ID card had his address, which Jiang Chengxuan had memorized long ago. Although he didn’t know the specific lane or house number, the general address was correct.
Shen Mu’s home was not far from the city center. When he reached the alley entrance, he initially wanted to ask someone for directions, but he felt awkward doing so. Shen Mu’s parents were people who valued appearances, and having this kind of situation in the family must be difficult for them to talk about. So, he didn’t dare ask for directions. He remembered Shen Mu once telling him that they had built a new three-story house last year, and the first floor was rented out as a warehouse.
Jiang Chengxuan circled around for a long time before he found it. It must be the right place; the bricks and plaster were the newest, the first floor had a rolling shutter door, and the staircase was outside.
The person who opened the door was Shen Mu’s mother. She was startled when she saw him, then her expression became flustered. “How did you find this place?”
“I brought some nutritional supplements for Uncle,” Jiang Chengxuan smiled, handing her the items. “Auntie, please accept these.”
Shen Mu’s mother took them, whispering, “You’re too kind.”
Jiang Chengxuan said, “It’s the least I can do.”
Shen Mu’s mother managed a smile and asked him, “How is Xiao Mu?”
“He…”
“Who is it outside?”
Before Jiang Chengxuan could answer, Shen Mu’s mother turned sideways to block him and called inside, “No one, just a neighbor.”
His mother was afraid of upsetting Shen Mu’s father again, but Shen Mu’s father clearly didn’t believe her. The sound of his hurried footsteps came closer. When he saw who was there, the disappointment in his eyes was obvious. He probably thought Shen Mu had returned.
Even though Shen Mu hadn’t come home, he was still worried about his son. No matter how angry he was, he was still his own child.
Shen Mu’s father had never met Jiang Chengxuan and didn’t know who he was. His attitude was quite mild at the moment. “Who are you looking for?”
Jiang Chengxuan assessed his condition and smiled. “I’m looking for you.”
Shen Mu’s father frowned, scrutinized him for a moment, and then looked at the nutritional supplements in Shen Mu’s mother’s hand. His tone immediately turned sour. “Don’t try to sell me this stuff. I’m not buying.”
He was about to close the door, but Jiang Chengxuan raised his hand to stop it. “Uncle, I’m not a salesman. I really am here for you.”
Shen Mu’s father frowned deeper. “Why are you looking for me? Do we know each other?”
Shen Mu’s mother realized she couldn’t hide it anymore. Facing it now or later made no difference. She sighed, carried the supplements inside, and said, “Fine, come in and talk.”