The Subway Confessions and a Late-Night Pastry Run

Within the desolate carriage at the rear of the subway train, Chen Ran just sat there, listening to Jiang Zilin muttering softly beside him, clutching several paper bags filled with gifts he had bought for the mother and daughter today.

The woman’s somewhat plump, fleshy chin, where her mask failed to fully conceal it, still bore traces of sugar.

Presumably, these were remnants from eating popcorn while watching a movie just moments before.

Chen Ran reached out, naturally wiping the sugar away, which prompted Jiang Zilin to lean closer, her body soft and pliant, resting her small head and the greater part of her weight against his shoulder.

“I’ve also seen a psychologist.”

Jiang Zilin continued, her voice a low murmur.

“But it was no use. Some ailments simply can’t be cured; they aren’t something that medicine or a few doctor’s visits can fix. This is especially true for someone like me. Perhaps only a handful of people in the entire world suffer from such peculiar conditions.”

“So, I came to understand that since only a few individuals face such issues, most people naturally remain indifferent, leaving them to their own devices. After all, it would require immense expense and manpower to cater to just a handful of people…”

“It’s not that such things never happen, but I certainly couldn’t manage it. You understand, don’t you, Xiao Ran?”

Chen Ran nodded.

“Indeed, no one truly cares about the psychological struggles of a boy or girl in a forgotten, eighteenth-tier city. That’s why it often seems as though children from wealthy families are the ones with more mental health issues.”

“Exactly!”

Jiang Zilin chimed in, echoing his sentiment.

“However, it’s only natural, isn’t it? There are so many pressing matters in the world — wars, humanitarian crises, people still lacking food and water. When you consider all that, my own little abnormality truly seems insignificant.”

She was evidently quite optimistic, though in retrospect, this seemed entirely fitting.

Chen Ran mused.

What truly mattered for Jiang Zilin was having her sister and mother by her side since childhood, both of whom had openly accepted her unconventional nature.

For every individual, the environment in which one grows up is undeniably crucial.

“That’s why, from a very young age, I decided! Even if I couldn’t go out to study or work, I would do my absolute best in whatever ways I could to help the family!!”

“That’s why Xiao Lin-jie’s cooking is so delicious, and why she’s so adept at cleaning.”

“Hehehe, of course! This is the result of over a decade of continuous effort, not merely simple repetition. It involves synthesizing experience, exchanging insights, and constantly learning the latest techniques and knowledge…”

As she spoke of her proficiencies, Jiang Zilin suddenly became effusive, completely relaxed, and leaned fully against him.

Chen Ran could even feel the woman’s scorching hot skin through the relatively thin fabric of her clothes.

The deserted subway carriage slowly began to feel akin to a sauna.

Fine beads of sweat had already appeared on Jiang Zilin’s forehead, yet she nestled even closer to him, clinging as tightly as young lovers might on the hottest of days, seeking comfort in each other’s embrace.

She continued speaking for a very long time.

Her monologue ranged from the intricacies of house cleaning — specifying which steps to begin with and which to conclude with;

to the number of dishes to prepare for daily meals, detailing her mother’s preferences, Cold’s favorites, and her own…

It moved on to how often to undertake a thorough spring cleaning, what to do when encountering stray kittens or puppies while tidying the yard, discovering bird nests under the eaves, or even finding cockroaches or snakes within the house.

Jiang Zilin’s words flowed without coherent structure, almost as if she spoke whatever came to mind.

Then, her tone abruptly shifted.

“Even so, sometimes I yearn to go out. It’s precisely because I know I can’t leave that the desire to explore intensifies. When I see places on television or glimpse scenic photographs…”

“…that’s when the urge to venture outside truly strikes.”

“But in reality, what is there truly to see? The subway during rush hour, izakayas packed with people, streets teeming with exhausted middle-aged men and women just leaving work.”

“Because I’ve never witnessed any of it, I even wonder if I’ll go my entire life without ever seeing these sights?”

Having spoken thus far, Jiang Zilin turned her gaze to him.

Chen Ran, picking up the thread of conversation, uttered that classic adage, both profound and utterly commonplace.

“Indeed, it’s like a besieged city: those outside wish to enter, while Xiao Lin-jie inside yearns to escape.”

“Yes, yes, there are quite a few people who envy a life like mine, many online!”

The conversation concluded there, as the subway train arrived at its destination.

Jiang Zilin, who had just moments ago appeared soft and languid, seemed to gain a sudden burst of energy the moment she exited the subway station and returned to the familiar old street.

Along the desolate, lengthy street, shrouded in the deep night, she skipped and hopped like a child, even declaring her intention to go buy osmanthus cakes from Granny Yang’s shop.

“It’s already past ten, Xiao Lin-jie, is Granny Yang’s shop still open?”

“It’s open, it’s open!”

Jiang Zilin’s resolute tone made Chen Ran wonder if she often snuck out late at night to buy pastries.

The woman pulled him along, sprinting swiftly.

In that moment, she was neither nervous nor afraid in the slightest.

Alas.

As expected, the pastry shop was indeed still open.

By the darkened roadside, the warm, orange light spilling from within the window illuminated the pastries, still arranged beneath the windowsill, contained in metal basins and covered with plastic sheeting.

Granny Yang still reclined in her rocking chair behind the window, though unlike other days, beside the old woman sat a small, white-haired loli (TL Note: Japanese slang for a young girl, often depicted as cute and innocent), appearing to be around eleven or twelve years old, perched on a small stool.

Upon seeing him and Jiang Zilin approach, she immediately rose, taking Jiang Zilin’s money with one hand and weighing out pastries for the woman with the other.

The small loli’s movements were crisp and efficient, possessing an uncharacteristic coolness, entirely unlike what one would expect from someone her age.

Chen Ran recalled.

Jiang Zilin had apparently gossiped about the little girl before, mentioning that Granny Yang had found her by the roadside, much like how he himself had been taken in by their mother.

“…”

“Xiao Lin has arrived.”

Waving the palm-leaf fan in her hand, Granny Yang once again directed a bewildered gaze towards him.

Evidently, she had forgotten who he was once more.

“This is my husband, Granny.”

“Oh, Xiao Lin is married.”

“Mhm, mhm, mhm!”

“When will you have children?”

“I’m already pregnant! Next year… probably next year… uh…”

Counting on her fingers, it was clear that Jiang Zilin’s mathematical skills were far from ideal; she couldn’t even calculate which month next year would mark ten months from now.

“Marriage is good, marriage is good…”

Granny Yang then turned her attention back to her television.

Chen Ran remained silent throughout the entire exchange.

Having grown accustomed to Jiang Zilin’s nonsensical pronouncements, and knowing it would be futile to explain to an elderly person, he offered no correction.

He simply remained quiet.

From the equally silent loli, he accepted the packaged pastries.

On the way home after purchasing the pastries, Chen Ran noticed Jiang Zilin seemed even happier than before, clinging to his arm, skipping every other step. He couldn’t quite fathom what new joy had filled her with such delight.