ATLAS TRANSLATES

Chapter 7: Endless Arguments

Liu Ma took Jiang Qiao’s schoolbag. “Qiao Qiao, you’ve already made new friends at school?”

Jiang Qiao nodded. “Yes.”

“How are you getting along with your new classmates?”

Jiang Qiao looked at her reflection in the glass. “Pretty well.”

Liu Ma looked at her with motherly affection. “Madam has prepared chicken soup early at home, waiting for you to drink it.”

Jiang Qiao just smiled slightly without saying anything more. Seeing she didn’t want to talk, Liu Ma stayed quiet too.

She had watched Jiang Qiao grow up all these years, from a soft baby to a tall young lady. Jiang Qiao was beautiful, well-behaved, and never caused trouble. Her grades were always at the top of the class. Her parents had basically left her in Liu Ma’s care, only sending money regularly.

Jiang Qiao never threw tantrums. She just quietly did her own things, as if everything around her had nothing to do with her. The only person she was close to was that girl Jiang Zhixu.

If Liu Ma hadn’t gone to deliver milk to Jiang Qiao that day, she wouldn’t have found her collapsed in her room. She stayed with her at the hospital all night. When she got the diagnosis report, she couldn’t believe it and read it several times – it clearly stated late-stage stomach cancer.

As soon as Liu Ma opened the door, she heard arguing inside.

“Jiang Zhien, don’t go too far!”

“How am I going too far?”

“Don’t think I don’t know about the things you’re doing outside. If it weren’t for Qiao Qiao, I would have divorced you long ago.”

“Tian Ling, explain yourself clearly. What did I do? What things am I doing? Tell me clearly!”

Jiang Qiao stood at the doorway, listening to their argument. She walked past them calmly, like a wooden doll. Liu Ma stood behind her awkwardly.

Jiang Qiao was used to their arguments. Since she was young, it had been endless fighting. Either they weren’t home, or when they were home, they were arguing.

After a while, Tian Ling knocked gently on the door. Jiang Qiao had just finished showering, her small face slightly pink from the steam, wearing cream-colored pajamas that showed her prominent collarbones. She opened the door, glanced at the chicken soup in Tian Ling’s hands, but didn’t speak.

“Qiao Qiao, Mom made this chicken soup for you. Have some? I added lots of ingredients and simmered it for hours.”

“Just put it on the table.”

Tian Ling looked at Jiang Qiao’s expression and said, “Then get some rest early.”

“Okay.”

Jiang Qiao sat at her desk and finished writing the last sentence in her diary. She put the diary in the drawer and locked it. The bowl of chicken soup on the table was steaming. Jiang Qiao stared at it for a while, then picked it up and took a sip.

The chicken soup was tasty, but her stomach churned violently with nausea. She ran to the bathroom and started throwing up. She almost threw up everything in her stomach but still felt like retching severely, her stomach cramping painfully.

The arguing continued outside the door. They thought she couldn’t hear, but she heard everything clearly.

After retching a few times, she heard hurried footsteps approaching.

“Qiao Qiao, are you throwing up again? Qiao Qiao, open the door, let Mom come in, okay?”

“Don’t come in.”

Jiang Qiao struggled to stand up while holding her stomach. Her clean face had turned pale from pain. She took out some pills and swallowed them, then drank some warm water from the table.

“Qiao Qiao, let Mom come in, okay?”

“Open the door, Qiao Qiao.”

Jiang Qiao listened to their voices outside the door, collapsed on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily.

Tian Ling found a spare key and opened the door. Seeing Jiang Qiao sitting on the floor, she immediately pulled her into her arms.

Jiang Qiao’s eyes seemed to lose focus. She just let herself be held, not saying a word, like a broken doll. After a while, Jiang Qiao finally spoke, “I want to rest.”

Tian Ling carried her to bed, whispering, “Sleep, sleep.”

Jiang Zhien turned off the lights, and they both left the room. For once, they didn’t argue, sitting on the sofa in long silence.

…

“How is Xiao Si doing at school lately?”

The man on the sofa wore a black custom-made suit and silver-rimmed glasses. His features were sharp and defined, with particularly attractive phoenix eyes.

Yang Guan chose his words carefully: “Young Master hasn’t caused any trouble recently.”

Xu Hengyu responded with a “hmm,” seeming to take in these words. He continued reading the newspaper without saying more.

Hearing the door open, he looked up. Xu Si was wearing his school uniform casually, top button undone, with a bandage on his face.

Yang Guan licked his lips. He had just said Xu Si hadn’t caused any trouble, yet here he was with an injury on his face.

“What happened to your face?”

“I fell,” Xu Si said, then went straight upstairs.

Xu Hengyu glanced at him, then returned his attention to the newspaper. Father and son barely communicated, exchanging only a few words when they did.

…

Early the next morning.

Yang Shikun watched Xu Si come in ready to sleep, noticing the dark circles under his eyes: “Si Ge, did you stay up all night?”

“No.” He just couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning, so he ended up playing on his phone until almost morning.

Hao Ming popped up from behind Yang Shikun: “Si Ge, haven’t had breakfast? I brought you some.”

“Don’t want any.”

“Okay, but these soup dumplings are really good.”

He asked again: “Really don’t want any? Si Ge, I queued for a long time.”

Xu Si looked up at him: “Give them to me then, I’ll transfer you the money later.”

Hao Ming shook his head: “No need to pay, Si Ge.”

“I’ve already transferred the money.”

Xu Si took the breakfast from him, put it in his drawer, then lay his head on the desk and closed his eyes, preparing to sleep.

Yang Shikun turned to Hao Ming: “Hm? None for me?”

Hao Ming: “No, the weather forecast said there’s a northwest wind today. Go outside and catch some with your mouth.”

“Damn you, Hao Ming, drink your northwest wind. You drink it yourself.”

“Shit, Yang dog, don’t grab my soup dumplings!”

Hao Ming watched Yang Shikun pounce on his soup dumplings like a hungry tiger, backing away a few steps with the dumplings in hand.

“You’re so stingy, Big Head Hao.”

Yang Shikun snatched the soup dumplings from his hand, immediately popping one in his mouth. Despite being scalded, he didn’t care and mumbled with his mouth full: “Pretty good, bring me some tomorrow too.”

Hao Ming held out his hand: “Pay up.”

“Talking about money hurts our friendship, good brother.”

Luo Xing saw Jiang Qiao enter the classroom and excitedly waved: “Qiao Qiao.”

Jiang Qiao smiled at her, then went to her seat with her backpack. She glanced at the sleeping Xu Si, then took out her Chinese textbook.