Little Meteor Chapter 8
byChapter 8: “It’s a Blessing.”
Jiang Chengxuan spent the better part of the next day in surgery, and by the time he took off his Sterile Scrubs, the afternoon was nearly over.
He made a trip to the set, where the director pulled him over to the monitor. “Could you take a look at this resuscitation procedure? Are there any errors?”
He scanned the area but didn’t see Shen Mu.
Jiang Chengxuan forced himself to concentrate, his gaze fixed on the screen. “The placement of the defibrillator pads would be more standard if they were shifted one centimeter further to the right. Also, the attending physician’s tone when giving medical orders should be faster and more decisive. In a life-or-death race against time, there shouldn’t be any hesitation.”
His explanation was clear and precise. The director nodded repeatedly and instructed the staff nearby to take notes.
Jiang Chengxuan paused, then asked, “I don’t seem to see Screenwriter Shen today? I had a small question about a medical line in the script and wanted to ask him about it.”
The director was focused on the playback and answered without lifting his head. “Oh, Xiao Shen? He took two days off. Said he had an urgent matter back home. He rushed back early this morning.”
Went back home?
Jiang Chengxuan was momentarily stunned.
“I see.” Jiang Chengxuan quickly composed himself. “Then I’ll wait until he returns.”
Shen Mu’s hometown was a small, eighteenth-tier county. He had left at seven in the morning, taking a plane, then a bullet train, and finally a bus. By the time he arrived home, it was evening.
The smell of someone frying chili peppers drifted from the alley entrance, slightly choking.
The key slid into the lock, turned twice, and the door opened.
The living room light was on, and the weather forecast was playing softly on the TV. His father sat on the sofa, remote control in hand, and didn’t turn his head. “You’re back?”
“Yeah.” Shen Mu bent down to change his shoes. “Where’s Mom?”
“She’s simmering soup in the kitchen. Said you definitely haven’t eaten dinner.”
The sound of a spatula hitting a pot came from the kitchen. His mother, wearing the faded floral apron she’d used for years, poked her head out. “Xiao Mu is back! Hurry and wash your hands to eat. I steamed you a bowl of egg custard; it’s just ready.”
Shen Mu washed his hands and helped his mother carry the dishes out.
The golden egg custard, dotted with two drops of sesame oil, was placed in front of Shen Mu.
“Is the crew busy?” His father casually asked, picking up a piece of green vegetable with his chopsticks.
“It’s alright. The cycle is long, though; we shoot the same scene repeatedly.” Shen Mu took a bite of the egg custard; it was perfectly tender.
His mother looked at him, hesitant, but finally couldn’t hold back. “Look at those dark circles. Did you stay up late writing again? How many times have I told you…”
Shen Mu smiled. “I didn’t stay up. I slept well.”
Silence fell over the dinner table, broken only by the sounds of chewing and the steady voice of the TV anchor.
After a while, his mother spoke again, her voice softer. “Your dad is going to the Wellness and Rehabilitation Center tomorrow. If you’re free, do you want to go with him? Your brother… the caregiver said he hasn’t had much appetite lately because of the heat.”
Shen Mu nodded. “Yes, I’ll go with Dad tomorrow.”
His mother didn’t say anything more, just added half a bowl of soup to his bowl. “Eat more. Look how thin you are.”
“This Screenwriter job…” His father finished his last bite of rice and put down his chopsticks, as if mentioning it offhand. “It’s unstable. Zhang’s son, he passed the exam for the Tax Bureau last year. I think that’s quite good.”
“We’re eating, why bring that up?” His mother lightly patted his arm, giving him a look.
His father stopped talking, rose from the table, sat on the sofa, picked up the remote, and turned up the TV volume slightly. The weather forecast was over, and local news was playing.
Shen Mu didn’t respond, lowering his head to finish the soup. The soup was warm, carrying the taste of home, and also a little heavy.
Once the soup was finished, his stomach felt warm. Shen Mu got up to clear the dishes, but his mother quickly stopped him. “Leave them, leave them. I’ll do it. You’ve been traveling all day; you must be exhausted. Go rest.”
“It’s fine, Mom. I’m not tired.”
His mother followed him in, turned on the faucet to wash the dishes, and the rushing water covered the sound of the TV in the living room. She turned her head to look at her son and whispered, “Are you really not tired? You don’t look well.”
“I’m really fine. Maybe I was just a little too hungry.”
“When you’re away, remember to eat on time. Don’t try to lose weight like others; your health is your capital…” His mother started to fuss again. Shen Mu listened, occasionally saying “Mhm.” He noticed that the white hairs at his mother’s temples were more prominent than the last time he was home.
After washing the dishes, his mother dried her hands, took a washed apple from the fridge, and handed it to Shen Mu. “Here, eat some fruit. Your dad just has that temper. Don’t take his words to heart.”
Shen Mu took the apple and bit into it; it was crisp and sweet.
“I know.” He paused. “What time is Dad leaving tomorrow?”
“The usual time. Right after breakfast.” His mother glanced toward the living room and lowered her voice. “If you don’t want to go, it’s okay. I’ll tell your dad.”
“I’ll go.” Shen Mu shook his head and took another bite of the apple. “I should.”
His mother looked at him with a complicated expression, finally just letting out a soft sigh and patting his arm. “Alright then. Go wash up and get some sleep early. I’ve aired out the bedding in your room.”
“Okay.”
The house they currently lived in was the first home Shen Mu’s parents had built brick by brick when they were young. Years ago, improper construction by the neighbors when they rebuilt their house damaged the foundation wall of their home. The house became structurally unsound, with cracked walls and water seepage during the rain. His father, a man who had been honest and tolerant all his life, felt that since they were old neighbors of decades, it would be ugly to fall out. Plus, he always thought they would renovate their own house eventually, so he swallowed his anger and didn’t pursue the neighbor for damages.
But later, policies tightened, and private home construction was strictly halted. With renovation out of the question, the house became a source of anxiety for the whole family. It wasn’t until the policy finally eased slightly the year before last, allowing eligible unsafe houses to apply for demolition and reconstruction. His father immediately rushed to handle the paperwork, afraid of missing the opportunity he had waited years for.
Their newly built three-story house was only simply decorated on the bottom two floors. The third floor was still a bare shell, empty and untouched.
His father looked at the stairwell at the time and said quite practically, “The third floor will stay like this for now. I’ll decorate it when I have money later.”
He paused, then added, “If I never have the money, I’ll leave it for you to decorate yourself.”
After the house was renovated, they let it air out for a year, moving in only after the formaldehyde levels were all up to standard.
Shen Mu’s room was the master bedroom, which his father had specially reserved for him. It was a sun-facing room. His high school textbooks and a few literary classics were still on the bookshelf, and the desk was spotless, regularly cleaned by his mother. The air smelled of sunshine on the bedding, which was very comforting.
He took out his phone. There were a few messages in the crew’s work group; he scrolled through them.
In the living room, the low voices of his parents talking faintly drifted in. He couldn’t make out the specific content, but he could imagine the worried, cautious tone even with his eyes closed.
He had been traveling all day and should have been very sleepy, but he couldn’t fall asleep. Shen Mu leaned against the headboard, staring blankly out the window when his phone screen suddenly lit up.
Caller ID: Jiang Chengxuan.
“Hello?”
Shen Mu’s parents were asleep, so his voice was low.
A second of silence passed on the other end, followed by Jiang Chengxuan’s familiar voice. “…It’s me. The director said you had a family emergency?”
“Yes, I came back to handle something.”
Another brief silence. Only their soft breathing could be heard through the receiver.
Shen Mu heard Jiang Chengxuan seem to take a very light breath before speaking. “I thought… you were avoiding me.”
He didn’t wait for Shen Mu to respond, quickly continuing, his voice softening slightly. “It’s good that you’re not.”
The sentence was spoken quickly. Shen Mu held his phone, speechless for a moment, feeling something lightly bump against his chest—not hard, but a little tender and soft.
Shen Mu chuckled softly. “How old are we? Still playing hide-and-seek.”
“Mhm.” Jiang Chengxuan responded, his tone clearly relaxed. “Did things go smoothly?”
“They’re alright.”
“That’s good. I won’t keep you from resting.”
Just as the call was about to end, Jiang Chengxuan called his name. “Shen Mu.”
Jiang Chengxuan said softly, “Good night.”
The call ended.
Shen Mu held his phone and sat for a while before lying down. This time, sleep came faster than expected. His dreams were filled with Jiang Chengxuan’s “Good night,” and when he opened his eyes, it was morning.
After a simple breakfast, Shen Mu and his father drove together to the Wellness and Rehabilitation Center on the outskirts of the county. The journey was silent, with only the scenery outside the car window rapidly receding.
The Center was a clean but unusually quiet white building. The Security Guard was very familiar with his father, who visited every week. “Bringing food for Xiao Hao again?”
His father smiled. “Yes, his mother made some things he likes.”
The Security Guard’s gaze naturally fell on Shen Mu beside him, sizing him up slightly. “And this is…”
“This is my younger son, Shen Mu.”
“Oh, your younger son!” The Security Guard’s smile widened. While registering them, he exclaimed, “He’s very handsome, looks like you. You truly have good fortune, two sons.”
His father responded quietly, “Yes, it’s a blessing.”
The Security Guard pressed the intercom, reported the floor and name, and told them to wait in the activity room.
About three minutes later, Xiao Hao was brought down from upstairs.
Xiao Hao was wearing the standard light blue patient uniform and was much thinner than before. The food at the Wellness and Rehabilitation Center wasn’t that good. Previously, he ate without restraint at home, stuffing everything into his mouth, suffering from gout every few days. Especially during the period when his father was building the house, no one could control him, and his feet were swollen every day, so painful he couldn’t walk.
His father slowly walked over, his voice extremely soft and slow. “Xiao Hao, look who’s here? Your brother came back to see you.”
Xiao Hao’s gaze lingered on his father’s face for a moment, then slowly shifted to Shen Mu. Those beautiful eyes, strikingly similar to Shen Mu’s, were covered by a perpetual layer of fog that reflected no one’s shadow.
His father placed the insulated container on the table and took out the food.
Xiao Hao didn’t need anyone to worry about him eating. He picked up the spoon and mechanically began to eat. Only at this time did he not seem like a psychiatric patient.
Xiao Hao always ate quickly. His father sighed softly after watching him finish, then took him to shower.
In truth, the caregivers here were very attentive, but Xiao Hao had been in a psychiatric hospital years ago. At that time, the medical system supervision was not strict, and it was a small county hospital. Xiao Hao was often hungry, always dirty, and no one bathed him, which is why his father was always worried.
On the way back, Shen Mu remained silent, watching the fields and low-lying houses outside the window slowly move backward. The car was quiet, save for the low hum of the engine.
His father gripped the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the winding country road ahead. After a long while, he spoke. “What I said yesterday during dinner… about you coming back to take the civil service exam or whatever,” he paused, seemingly searching for the right words, “I just mentioned it casually. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s good that you’re doing what you like outside. Your mother and I are just worrying needlessly. Don’t take it to heart.”
Shen Mu was born because of Xiao Hao. At the time, family planning was strictly enforced. If Xiao Hao hadn’t been the way he was, they wouldn’t have been able to have a second child. His parents only had Shen Mu after obtaining a birth permit. Precisely because of this, his parents were extremely anxious about him, afraid of any accident, and even forbade him from leaving their sight. Making him choose Chinese Language and Literature was also so he could return home and take the civil service exam later.
Shen Mu thought of certain things, and his eyes involuntarily felt a rush of warmth. He quickly turned his head, and when he was sure his voice wouldn’t betray any emotion, he responded softly, “Mhm, I know.”