Missed You While Waiting in the Rain - Chapter 5

Because of the punch Jiang Xingran threw just now, a few students passing by had stopped, looking over in our direction.

Coming back to my senses, I whispered a thank you to Jiang Xingran and turned to walk in another direction.

After such an incident, I really couldn’t pretend like nothing happened and just head back to the dormitory.

At the end of the road was the school’s Sundial Plaza.

In the April night, the wind still carried a slight chill. I sat down on a bench at the edge of the plaza, touched my cheek, and realized that tears were streaming down my face.

I thought the breakup in the rain that day would be the final chapter between Han Ze and me. I never expected things to fall apart to this extent, leaving not even a shred of dignity between us.

He had brutally torn open my scars, making me feel as if I had returned to that lonely night in the hospital.

That night, I lost both my only family and my lover.

Or rather, the person I thought was my lover.

Tears began to flow again. I rummaged through my backpack for a while, finding nothing, when a slender hand silently offered me a packet of tissues.

Looking up, it was Jiang Xingran again.

He had sharp, deep-set features that should have given him an intimidating aura.

Yet at this moment, whether due to the gentle moonlight or some other reason, his eyes held only warmth as he looked at me.

I took the tissues and pressed my lips together, saying, “Thank you.”

“If you don’t want me here, I can move a bit further away.”

He said softly, “But I won’t leave. Sundial Plaza is no longer within the teaching area, and there are often outsiders around. I’m concerned about your safety.”

His words, spoken in his tone, seemed particularly natural. Yet somehow, the last words Han Ze left before he departed flashed through my mind.

Jiang Xingran seemed to see through my thoughts.

He spoke calmly, “Han Ze wasn’t wrong. I have indeed had feelings for you for some time.”

“But I also know that now is not the time to discuss this.”

As he spoke, he leaned down slightly to look at me, changing his address:

“Xia Min, I understand how you feel right now. Life and death are heavy matters, but… it will pass.”

Jiang Xingran’s voice carried a peculiar strength, like a senior comforting a junior after having experienced everything.

Yet clearly, he was a few months younger than Han Ze.

I thought of a possibility, wanting to ask but fearing it might be too forward.

In my hesitation, he spoke first, “You’re right; I’ve been through something similar.”

…

Under the cold moonlight, Jiang Xingran sat down beside me.

“The year my dad died in a car accident, I was twelve, and my sister was only eight. At that age, I didn’t quite understand the concept of death, but I vaguely knew that my dad would never wake up again, nor would he bring us the latest toys and snacks.”

“My mom’s health was never good, and she fainted from crying on the spot. My neighbor and I hurriedly took her to the hospital and went to pick up my sister from the elementary school. The following days were busy with handling various matters, leaving no time for sorrow.”

“Until… one weekend afternoon, when I picked up an overturned photo frame while cleaning the table and saw a family photo of the four of us.”

“That afternoon, I cried even more than you did, senior sister.”

At this, he chuckled lightly.

I felt deeply apologetic, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to open your wounds…”

“It’s okay, it’s all in the past.”

His originally cool voice was tinged with warmth,

“I can now think of him calmly. I believe that if people have consciousness after death, my dad would want me to always remember him, but not to be sad for him.”

“Always move forward, even if the road ahead no longer has him.”

I turned my head in a daze, meeting Jiang Xingran’s eyes up close. In them, I saw the distant streetlights and the moonlight in the sky, like stars shining in the boundless universe.

The scars seemingly etched on my heart finally found a brief respite in his gentle eyes.

Even if it was just for this night.

That night, Jiang Xingran and I stayed at Sundial Plaza for a long time, returning only before the dormitory curfew.

Before bed, as I lay on my bed, my phone suddenly vibrated.

I opened it to find that Jiang Xingran had shared a song with me on WeChat¹.

It was Fulushou’s “What Do I Use to Keep You.”

“I hope it makes you feel a bit better. No need to reply, goodnight.”

I put on my headphones and played the song in the quiet darkness.

“Falling with a glow, yet reluctant to part.”

“So life, it shines like a song.”

Footnote:

1. WeChat(微信): A versatile Chinese messaging and social media app that allows users to chat, make voice and video calls, share moments, and use various other services like mobile payments.