Little Meteor Chapter 9

Chapter 9: “Mumu.”

Shen Mu had only requested two days off. His train ticket was for the evening, and he still had a connecting flight, so his mother prepared dinner early, worried he wouldn’t get a proper meal.

“Be careful on the road. Call home when you arrive, or send a message,” his mother said, seeing him off at the door. “Did you pack everything? Is your power bank charged?”

“Everything’s here, Mom. You should go back inside.” Shen Mu hugged his mother, and she gently patted his back.

His father’s car was waiting at the alley entrance. Shen Mu opened the door and got into the passenger seat.

The local radio station was playing a song request program. Neither father nor son spoke for a while. After a long silence, his father looked straight ahead and broke the quiet: “Do you have enough money? Expenses are high in the big city.”

Shen Mu replied, “I have enough. The crew covers food and accommodation, and they pay quite promptly.”

“Good.” His father nodded, tapping his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. “When you’re out there, don’t be too frugal. Spend what you need to, but don’t waste money either.”

“I know, Dad.”

After driving a bit further, his father spoke again. “That job of yours, writing scripts—your dad doesn’t really understand it. But last time, your mom made me look at the comments online, praising the script you wrote. It seems quite a few people like it.”

He gripped the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the road stretching ahead. “It’s just that I always feel this line of work is unstable, precarious, without much security.”

His father sighed. “But you’re grown up now, you have your own ideas. Your mom and I just can’t help but nag a bit. As long as you’ve thought it through, that’s what matters. If you think it’s good out there, go for it. If you get tired, there’s always a meal waiting for you at home. Taking the civil service exam, that was just an idea of mine; don’t feel pressured.”

He paused, his voice softening. “When you were sick a few years ago, your mom and I were terrified. Now, as long as you’re doing something you like and you’re happy, that’s enough.”

Shen Mu was stunned for a moment, a pang of emotion in his heart. He nodded. “Yes, I know. I’ll take good care of myself.”

They arrived at the train station quickly. His father parked the car near the departure level and helped Shen Mu take down his backpack. “Be careful on the road. Stay alert when you sleep, don’t miss your stop.”

“Don’t worry, Dad.” Shen Mu took his backpack. “Drive slowly on your way back.”

“Send a message when you arrive,” his father stood still, watching his son. “Go on in.”

Shen Mu nodded and turned to merge into the crowd. Before entering the station gate, he looked back. His father was still standing by the car, waving at him.

A few years ago, he had fought fiercely with his parents. They had always felt his job was unreliable: “You’ve been struggling out there for so long, and you haven’t made a name for yourself. Coming back, taking the civil service exam, and settling down is the proper way.”

He tried to explain, weariness in his voice: “I can’t take the exam, and I can’t get married.”

Before he finished speaking, his mother’s pent-up disappointment exploded. She grabbed whatever was nearby and threw it, crying out, “I gave birth to you for nothing! I can’t rely on your brother, and I thought I could rely on you, but you’re like this too!”

His father sat beside her, his brow furrowed into a tight knot, letting out a heavy sigh that struck Shen Mu’s heart like a stone: “With you like this, I feel like there’s no hope left in my life.”

Shen Mu had heard similar words since childhood. That heavy expectation, stemming from his brother Xiao Hao’s special condition and placed upon him, had long transformed into a deep-seated guilt that followed him everywhere.

He was absolutely certain his parents loved him. Growing up, they had never been stingy with material things; they granted almost every request he made. But this love came with a clear prerequisite: he had to be obedient. Many times, he felt that home was like an invisible black hole, silently draining all his energy and emotion, leaving only endless exhaustion.

Shen Mu had compromised before. He forced himself to bury his head in piles of study materials, listening to lectures and doing practice questions day after day, numbly following the path his parents had drawn for him.

It was only after he developed severe anxiety that his parents stopped pressuring him. There were many times he resented Xiao Hao—why did he have to bear the burden of another person’s life? But at this moment, he also had to thank Xiao Hao. His parents feared losing their last normal son, afraid he would become like Xiao Hao. Consequently, all their former obsessions—with propriety, stability, and continuing the family line—vanished. In the end, only one wish remained: for him to be happy and healthy.

After several hours of flying, the plane finally landed smoothly at the destination airport. The airport was somewhat empty and desolate in the early hours of the morning. Shen Mu followed the flow of people toward the arrival exit, preparing to queue for a taxi.

As he stepped out of the gate, he casually looked up, and his steps halted.

Jiang Chengxuan walked over and reached out to take the backpack from Shen Mu’s shoulder.

Shen Mu was still processing it. “Why are you here?”

“I just finished a long night shift. It was on my way home, and I figured you’d be arriving around this time, so I came to check.” Jiang Chengxuan tilted his head to look at him. “Did you handle everything at home?”

Shen Mu said softly, “Yes, nothing serious.”

Jiang Chengxuan’s gaze swept over Shen Mu’s face. “Tired? The car is parked outside. Let’s go.”

Sitting in the passenger seat, Shen Mu fastened his seatbelt and couldn’t help but look at Jiang Chengxuan again.

The car smoothly drove out of the airport. Shen Mu said, “Let’s go straight to the hospital. I’ve been delayed for two days; the director is probably already jumping up and down.”

“Can your body handle it?” Jiang Chengxuan frowned slightly. “You flew half the night. Can’t you ask the crew for half a day off, rest a little before going?”

Shen Mu shook his head. “The crew stopping work for one day burns money for one day. Hundreds of people are waiting, and I need to be present for some last-minute script adjustments. I’m fine, I can manage.”

Jiang Chengxuan’s fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel, but he didn’t try to persuade him further. He reached out and lowered the radio volume. “Then take a nap. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

Shen Mu was indeed tired. He nodded and slightly reclined his seat.

In a haze, he felt the car stop at a red light, and then a jacket with a faint scent of mint was placed over him.

The car slowly stopped, and the inertia made Shen Mu lean forward slightly. His consciousness hadn’t fully returned when he heard Jiang Chengxuan calling him.

“Mumu… We’re here.”

Half of Shen Mu’s sleepiness instantly fled. His eyelashes fluttered, but he didn’t open his eyes immediately.

The jacket with the clean, minty scent was still covering him. Shen Mu could feel the gaze of the person beside him lingering on his face for a moment, seemingly assuming he was still asleep.

Just as he was debating whether to wake up or continue pretending, a warm hand gently touched his shoulder, a movement marked by obvious restraint, a touch-and-go.

“Shen Mu, wake up. We’re at the hospital.” This time, the voice returned to its normal volume and usual address, as if the gentle “Mumu” from moments ago was just a hallucination woven by Shen Mu’s weary brain.

Shen Mu finally opened his eyes slowly, pretending to have just been woken up.

Shen Mu sat up straight, his voice husky from sleep. “We’re here?”

“Yes, we’re here.” Jiang Chengxuan reached out and smoothed down his hair, which was sticking up from sleep. “Are you awake? Do you want to sit for a bit longer?”

Shen Mu shook his head. He tidied Jiang Chengxuan’s jacket but didn’t immediately hand it back. “Did you… call me something just now?”

“Call you what?” Jiang Chengxuan laughed. “Were you dreaming?”

Shen Mu smiled too. “Probably.”

Shen Mu handed the jacket back and opened the car door. “I’ll head over now.”

“Okay.” Jiang Chengxuan nodded, then took a paper bag from the back seat and handed it to him. “Sandwich and soy milk I bought on the way. They’re still warm. Remember to eat breakfast.”