Chapter 223 : Who Called Lin Mo
Chapter 223: Who Called Lin Mo
Parting by life and death was something every person had to experience. Lin Mo had grown up having witnessed relatives pass away, but the feeling he felt now was completely different.
Take for example the passing of his grandmother and grandfather — though he had been sad, he knew that life and death had their destined limits. Despite the sorrow and reluctance, the elders had passed away peacefully after long, fulfilled lives, their children all married and successful, with grandchildren around them. Their lives had been complete.
But Jiang Xia — his classmate for three years, and deskmate for half a year — she had been his age. He had thought she had gone on to university, like him, about to graduate, maybe even had a sweet romance in college. Yet he had never imagined that during the years she disappeared, she had quietly lived out the last stretch of her life, until it faded away.
And most importantly, she might have already known three years ago, back in high school, that she didn’t have much time left. Death itself was not frightening — it was the waiting for death that was.
He didn’t know how that lively girl with two dimples when she smiled had endured it, nor did he know how much pain and pressure she had borne these past few years.
After graduating high school, some people would never see each other again for the rest of their lives. Even for ordinary people, that was already the case — let alone someone like Jiang Xia, who had long known her own situation.
On that last afternoon of high school, perhaps she had already realized it. That was why she had said a formal goodbye to every single classmate — because she had already prepared herself for it to be their last meeting.
Holding his phone, Lin Mo’s hand trembled slightly, emotions swirling inside him. If he had known that day would be the last time they saw each other, he wouldn’t have rushed off to the internet café.
He would have stayed, talked more with his deskmate, shared a meal, and at the very least, said a proper goodbye — maybe even given her a hug.
But now, it felt as if he had unknowingly, carelessly lost a friend — the weight of that realization pressed so heavily on him that he could barely breathe.
‘Ka-cha’
The sound of the living room door opening broke through his emotions as his mother, Zhou Min, came home.
“Ha ha ha, son, have you eaten yet? If not, should I make you something?”
Fresh from attending a wedding, Zhou Min was in an excellent mood. Several of her colleagues had seen her new car and gold necklace that day, and once they heard they’d been gifts from her son, they had all looked at her with envy.
Zhou Min felt she had been even more radiant than her colleague whose son had just gotten married — after all, while that woman had bought her son a car and house, her own son had already started buying her things, even though he wasn’t married yet. The comparison only made her happier.
“I’ve eaten. How come you’re back so early?”
Lin Mo stepped out of his room and asked in a low voice.
“Oh, the wedding was held at a hotel in the city. After the banquet started, people began leaving within half an hour. I actually stayed a little longer — otherwise, I’d have been back even earlier.
Hey? Son, why do you look so pale? Are you feeling unwell?” Zhou Min asked, noticing her son’s complexion.
City weddings looked nice and were convenient, but they lacked the human warmth — it always felt like everyone was just there for show, waiting to eat and leave.
In contrast, village feasts could last from morning till night, almost nonstop.
“It’s nothing, Mom. Give me the car keys. I need to head out for a bit,” Lin Mo said, heading toward the bathroom to wash up.
“Now? Where are you going? It’s raining outside!” Zhou Min said, trying to stop him.
Although it was only a light drizzle, she still worried — roads were slippery in the rain.
“Just heading to Experimental High School. It’s fine — it’s still in the city.”
After washing up and changing clothes, Lin Mo grabbed the car keys and left. Watching his back as he went, Zhou Min was puzzled.
He was her son, not some moody teenage girl. He’d been laughing when he went out earlier — how had his mood turned so dark after a meal?
She sighed, shaking her head helplessly. Children grew up, and there came a time when they stopped sharing what was on their minds with their parents. It couldn’t be helped.
Driving the car, Lin Mo followed the location shared by Teacher Qin in the group chat and soon arrived at the destination — a teahouse near Experimental High School.
When he arrived, several classmates were already gathered at the entrance. Most were girls; only three were boys — the athlete Song Haoran, the chemistry class representative Song Ning, and his good friend, the academically hopeless slacker Wan Chunlong.
As Lin Mo got out of the car, the others looked over in surprise. None of them spoke, their eyes filled with puzzlement — as if silently asking, Who’s this guy?
“Old Wan, don’t recognize me anymore?”
Lin Mo finally broke the silence with a greeting.
“Holy crap, Goldie, what happened to you? Haven’t seen you in half a year — did you become a model or something?” Wan Chunlong exclaimed in disbelief.
Because of his poor grades, Wan Chunlong had only managed to get into a vocational college and had already graduated last year. He was now working in interior design back home.
The last time the two met had been during the New Year. Since they were both from the same area, they’d meet up during holidays. The nickname “Goldie” came from Lin Mo’s high school alias — “Silence is golden.”
“Get lost! You’re the model. Your whole family’s a model,” Lin Mo shot back, punching him playfully.
The joy of reuniting with an old friend eased the weight on his chest a little. Soon after, he greeted the rest of the classmates who had arrived.
Everyone was shocked by how much he had changed — it was like seeing the chubby kid in class suddenly transform into a campus heartthrob.
Just then, a middle-aged man came out of the teahouse — their homeroom teacher, Teacher Qin, followed by a tired-looking middle-aged woman.
“Teacher!”
“Old Class!”
“Wei-ge!”
Everyone greeted him, each with a different name. Their homeroom teacher, Qin Wei, smiled warmly, clearly touched to see his former students again.
When his gaze fell on Lin Mo, he paused for a moment. But having taught many graduating classes, he’d seen plenty of students change after leaving school, so he wasn’t too surprised.
“Twelve — more than I expected. Looks like it’s just you few today. Some said they couldn’t make it, so let’s not wait any longer.
This is Jiang Xia’s mother. These are all Jiang Xia’s classmates,” the teacher introduced.
“Hello, Auntie!”
“Hello, Auntie!”
“Good, good, thank you all for coming. I thank you on behalf of Jiang Xia,” Li Yanhong said, her eyes already turning red. A few girls hurried over to comfort her.
“Let’s go inside. It’s the holiday, and since I couldn’t book a restaurant on short notice, we’ll just make do here,” Teacher Qin said.
He then led everyone to a private room on the second floor — a temporary place to gather.
Once everyone was seated, Teacher Qin and Li Yanhong brought out two cardboard boxes — one large, one small.
“Jiang Xia’s mother said Jiang Xia prepared a gift for everyone in our class — a farewell gift of sorts.
After you’ve taken yours, check who hasn’t come. If you’re still in contact, help deliver theirs. If not, we’ll see what we can do later,” Teacher Qin said with a sigh.
It had been over three years since graduation; many classmates had already left the group chat. There wasn’t much the teacher could do — he could only rely on those still connected.
Everyone exchanged glances and nodded. It was a small favor — if they could reach someone, they’d mail it; if not, so be it.
The teacher opened the box. Inside were paper gift boxes of various sizes, each labeled with a name.
Everyone found theirs and grabbed a few for their friends. Soon, most of the boxes were gone, though around twenty still remained unclaimed.
It couldn’t be helped — some people simply cut ties with everyone after graduation.
The teacher could only shake his head helplessly, hoping more might show up tomorrow.
Every time a box was claimed, Li Yanhong, as Jiang Xia’s mother, would thank them. These children were helping her daughter fulfill her last wish.
The classmates waved off her gratitude again and again — losing a child was the worst pain imaginable.
Meanwhile, Lin Mo was still rummaging through the remaining boxes — his name wasn’t there.
Just as he was about to ask, Li Yanhong spoke up:
“Excuse me, is there someone here named Lin Mo? Or does anyone know him?”
Everyone turned toward him.
“Auntie, that’s me,” Lin Mo said.
Li Yanhong looked at the young man before her, then smiled faintly and handed him a small, separate paper box.
“Jiang Xia mentioned you often last month. Before she left, she reminded me not to forget this — she said others might not come, but you definitely would.”
The box was larger than any of the others, about the size of two shoe boxes stacked together, specially wrapped — clearly prepared with care.
Of course he had come. She had been his only female friend throughout high school. Lin Mo could almost picture her as she had told her mother those words, eyes full of certainty.
“Thank you, Auntie.”