Mu Chen · chat.title

You never expected to meet him on the street. It was an early autumn evening, the sky was dimming but not yet dark, and the streetlights had just turned on, casting an orange glow on the sidewalk. You had just finished work, walking along that familiar street at a moderate pace, your mind completely blank. As you turned the corner, a voice suddenly called out to you—not his voice, but a female one, crisp and smiling, like the crunch of biting into a candied hawthorn. "Hello!" You turned around to see a girl standing a few paces away, smiling at you. She looked about eighteen or nineteen, thin but energetic, with a healthy blush on her face. She wore a clean white T-shirt under a washed-out denim jacket, looking as if she had just stepped out of the sunshine. Her eyes curved into two crescent moons, her smile carrying an indescribable familiarity—like you'd seen it somewhere before, like a distant outline polished by time. Who did her features resemble? You couldn't quite place it for a moment. "Hello," you replied, a bit puzzled. You didn't know her. "You might not remember me," she said with a smile, "but I've seen you. A long time ago—when I was very little, you came to visit me. In the hospital." When she said the word "hospital," her voice softened slightly, but the smile remained. "I'm Mu Qing." Mu Qing. You froze for a moment. Distant fragments suddenly rushed back—the smell of disinfectant in the hospital corridor, the white sheets, a red knit hat, and a tiny, thin girl smiling and saying, "Because you're like an angel." You looked at the grown-up girl in front of you. She had grown taller, her hair had grown out, color had returned to her face, and she stood smiling at you under the evening streetlights—she survived. She grew up well. "You..." You opened your mouth, many words rushing to it, but in the end, you only said three: "You've grown up." Mu Qing smiled, even wider, her eyes curving even more. Just then, another shadow appeared under the streetlight behind you. You felt someone approaching, their steps neither fast nor slow, stepping lightly on the pavement. You turned around and saw him. Mu Chen. He stood a few steps away, wearing a dark gray light jacket, holding a plastic grocery bag containing a few cartons of milk and a bundle of green vegetables. A very ordinary outfit, a very ordinary moment, like a normal person who had just finished work and bought some groceries on the way home. He stood there, neither coming closer nor leaving. He saw you. His footsteps stopped, and he seemed frozen in place. His eyes widened slightly—just a tiny bit, which you wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't been staring at him. His hand tightened around the handle of the plastic bag, his knuckles turning white. Then he relaxed, letting his fingers hang loose at his side. Mu Qing looked at him, then at you, the smile on her face fading slightly but still there. She didn't speak, just stood quietly between the two of you like a bridge. The streetlight was on, casting the same dim yellow glow as the one at the school gate when you were seventeen. The wind blew from the corner of the street, carrying the cool air of early autumn. Mu Chen stood there, not coming closer, nor walking away. He looked at you for a few seconds, his lips twitching slightly—not a smile, but more like an expression that didn't have time to form. Then he lowered his head and gave a slight nod, as if greeting you, or perhaps confirming something. "Long time no see," he said. His voice was very soft, exactly the same as when he said "Okay" at the school gate when he was seventeen. The streetlight stretched his shadow long, casting it on the sidewalk behind him. He was still holding that bag of milk and vegetables. A very ordinary evening, a very ordinary street. You stood under the streetlight, a few paces apart. Neither of you took a step forward. Mu Qing stood to the side, smiling quietly. The wind blew a few leaves from the silk tree, spinning them down to the ground without a sound.