The rain had already stopped. Mist lingered over the riverbank, willow branches swaying gently in the morning breeze, the air turning fresh and clean.
Puddles still gathered on the street. Jian Nian stepped through the shallow water, walking toward the edge of town.
The breakfast stalls on the street hadn’t opened yet, steam rising from the baozi steamers. The stall owner saw her and greeted her, “Morning, Little Jian.”
“Out painting so early again.” She smiled. “Hey, that painting from last time—when you have time, could you paint one for my son too?”
Jian Nian stopped walking. “Is now okay? I’m leaving soon.”
The stall owner froze for a moment, glanced at her bag, and seemed to understand something. She went back inside and brought out a photograph.
It was an old photo, its edges yellowed. The child in the picture was four or five years old, wearing a tiger-head hat, sitting on a camel, smiling brightly.
The simple, honest stall owner touched the photo, rubbing her flour-dusted hands together, and said a little awkwardly, “That, um, Little Jian, can you painters draw that kind of thing, you know… I want to see what he’d look like grown up.”
She’d heard from Yu Qingqing that the breakfast stall owner’s son had passed away when he was very young.
Jian Nian looked at the photo. “I’m not sure I can get it right.”
As the years passed, a person’s face changed in so many ways after growing up—there was no way to control for that.
“It’s fine, it’s fine, just paint whatever you can.”
There was no easel, so the stall owner cleared off a breakfast table for her. Jian Nian sat on a plastic stool, pulled out a sheet of drawing paper, and smoothed it flat.
The yellowed photo was pressed under the chopstick holder. Jian Nian studied the child’s features closely, weighing and considering in her mind, slowly sketching out the first strokes.
She’d never painted anything like this before. She kept second-guessing herself, frowning, agonizing, revising again and again, until the breakfast crowd filled every table and the place grew lively—only then did she finally finish.
On the paper was a handsome teenage boy, hair tousled by the wind, smiling brightly just like in the photo, his eyes curved with joy.
The stall owner stared at the portrait, expression blank, her whole body frozen in place. She didn’t even hear the customers around her calling out their orders.
After a long moment, she slowly reached out a rough, flour-covered fingertip and gently brushed it over the paper.
Jian Nian packed up her bag, stood, and turned to leave.
After she’d walked a little way, the stall owner caught up from behind, stuffed some money into her bag, then pressed a warm baozi into her hand.
“Here, eat it on the way.”
The baozi was warm in her palm.
Jian Nian looked up and saw that the corners of the woman’s eyes had reddened.
Watching the stall owner turn to head back to her stall, Jian Nian suddenly asked, “If you suddenly got a phone call from your son in the middle of the night, would you be afraid?”
The sun rose over the horizon, scattering the hazy mist. Jian Nian walked down the road, holding the baozi, taking small bites. Her mind was still on the stall owner’s answer from moments ago. | BlackLotusNovel
—”I dream about it all the time—him calling me ‘Mom’ just one more time.”
So that was what it felt like, getting a call from a dead relative?
…Then what would he be thinking?
Jian Nian chewed slowly. If she called him in the middle of the night, out of nowhere, what would he feel?
No.
They’d already broken up. They had nothing to do with each other anymore. Why should she care what he’d think?
Jian Nian shook her head, shaking off the thought. She finished the baozi, balled up the wrapper, tossed it into a trash can by the road, and stood by the bus stop waiting, checking the sign.
The long-distance bus station was… right, Route 25 would get her there.
Going to Huai City, the high-speed rail would obviously be faster, but she didn’t have an ID card, so she couldn’t buy a high-speed rail ticket. She’d have to take the long-distance bus.
Wu City’s long-distance bus station was old and run-down too, five or six rows of buses parked there. Ever since the high-speed rail had opened, fewer and fewer people took buses out of town.
By the time she got there and got off, it was still early—the first bus of the morning hadn’t even left yet.
Jian Nian walked through the rows, checking the destination signs on the fronts of the buses, found the one to Huai City, boarded, and found a window seat in the empty cabin.
The driver was still smoking, hands resting idly on the wheel. The ticket collector was leaning against her seat, scrolling through videos.
Jian Nian had slept far too late last night, only managing three-odd hours. She set her bag on the seat beside her, leaned drowsily against the window, and closed her eyes.
Her consciousness sank into a hazy void.
“Want to see snow?”
The fire crackled in the hearth, the room warm and cozy.
A finger pressed down on the workbook. The boy’s cool, clear voice dropped out of nowhere.
Jian Nian looked up and met a pair of jet-black eyes, reflecting the snow scene outside the window, and her own reflection—dressed in a white dress, gaze lost.
She looked back out the window. “Haven’t I already seen it?”
The boy stood by the desk, his dark eyes watching her quietly, saying nothing.
Jian Nian lowered her head, trying to pull the workbook back from under his hand. “Starting from this question, I don’t—”
The pale, cold fingers suddenly lifted the workbook away. He began gathering up a few textbooks, his tone flat.
“We’re studying outside today.”
Seeing her sitting there, staring blankly, not moving, he added, “Go change.”
That finally got her moving. She went to the bedroom, changed out of her thin dress, and came out wearing a cream-colored sweater.
The boy glanced at her. “You don’t have anything thicker?”
“I don’t know. The maid who helps me find clothes went home for the holidays.”
Jian Nian turned her head, her calm eyes watching the falling snow outside the window. “Is it cold out there?”
Suddenly, a weight settled on her shoulders—a thick black down jacket, warmth wrapping around her.
A cool, clean scent drifted past her nose. The boy bent down, zipping it up for her.
“Let’s go.”
He picked up his bag and walked toward the door.
The boy’s coat was too big, and much too warm. Jian Nian managed to poke her hands out from the sleeves and followed after him. · BlackLotus Novel Translation — Black Lotus
They stepped outside, walked only a few steps, and snowflakes swept in on the cold air.
Jian Nian tucked her hands back in.
The boy took her to a café, into a private booth.
Beyond the window was a plaza, blanketed in snow, a fountain still running, a street musician performing nearby.
Jian Nian stared at it for a good while before suddenly remembering she was supposed to be studying, and quickly turned back around, sitting up straight.
The boy beside her slid a picture book over.
“What do you want to drink?”
Jian Nian looked down, flipping through it, her gaze catching on a picture of a dessert for two seconds before she turned the page and pointed randomly at a coffee.
“This one.”
Her test scores lately had all been disappointing, workbooks and past exam papers piling up like small mountains at home. The more Jian Nian worked through them, the more sluggish her thinking became, like she was stuck in some strange loop.
“Relax a little.” The boy spoke, holding a pen, circling something on the completed workbook page. “Your problem isn’t that you can’t solve them—it’s that you’ve learned too many other people’s methods, other people’s approaches, until your own thinking got tangled up.”
“The answer is singular, but the process isn’t. Try forgetting what they’ve taught you, and solve it with whatever your own first instinct comes up with.”
…Her own idea?
Jian Nian held her pen, looking at the question, thinking slowly before writing. She wrote out a small section of the process, then hesitated and stopped. Was this wrong? Her last tutor had said she should…
“Good. Keep going.”
The boy beside her said flatly.
Jian Nian startled, gripped the pen tighter, and slowly kept writing. Several times in the middle she hesitated, faltered—but the boy never told her to stop.
She finished the problem, uneasy the whole way through.
Thinking she’d gotten it right, Jian Nian pulled out the answer key to check… it didn’t match.
Her heart sank, her fingertips tightening. “It’s wrong. I should still…”
“Who said you’re wrong?” the boy suddenly said.
Jian Nian turned to look at him.
His tone flat, he drew a few lines through the printed answer in the book with his pen. “This answer was printed wrong—the numbers in the formula here were substituted incorrectly. Your answer is the right one.”
Jian Nian blinked, a little doubtful. “Really?”
The boy circled another problem of the same type. “Try again.”
Jian Nian, still hesitant, worked through it again, calculated the result, and checked it against the answer key.
…This time it matched!
The boy leaned in slightly, that cool, clean scent drifting closer. A red pen drew lines over her written answer, analyzing it. “Your approach is fine. The process could be simplified a bit more, to avoid getting stuck—like here…”
His voice was low, still a boy’s voice, but carrying a clear, ringing quality. The strands of hair falling over his forehead looked soft, very much like the black cat that had crossed the wall last night.
“Tired?”
Noticing her attention drifting, the boy stopped and handed her the coffee the server had just brought over.
Jian Nian came back to herself, picked up the coffee, took a small sip, and set it down.
In her line of sight, pale, cold fingers slid a slice of strawberry cake in front of her.
The whole evening passed like that, sitting in the warm café, the boy teaching her how to solve problems.
Every so often he’d check his phone to reply to messages, and she’d use that time to steal a glance out at the snowy view.
At eleven-thirty, the driver was coming to pick her up and take her home.
Jian Nian replied to a message, set down her phone, and looked up. “I need to go back—” BlackLotus Translation · Black Lotus
The boy suddenly grabbed her wrist.
She froze.
He swept the textbooks into his bag with one hand, slinging it over one shoulder. His pale, cold fingers circled her wrist loosely, a layer of sweater between them.
Just like that, he pulled her out of the café.
He wasn’t using any real force—Jian Nian could have pulled her hand free. But she didn’t move.
She simply let him hail a cab, pull her in beside him, and tell the driver, “Huaijiang Bridge.”
Jian Nian didn’t understand. “What are we going there for?”
“Didn’t I already say?”
The boy let go of her hand, his dark eyes reflecting the streetlights, unreadable, his tone flat.
“To see the snow.”
Many cars were parked near Huaijiang Bridge, crowds of people standing on the riverside plaza, glow sticks lighting up here and there.
The taxi couldn’t get through, so it stopped on the outskirts.
Lights shone over the river, fine snow falling softly, the river’s surface reflecting a serene, breathtaking snowscape.
Jian Nian got out of the car, tilted her head back, and quietly watched the snow.
The midnight bell rang out in the distance, the crowd growing louder, white light cutting through the still snowy night as countless fireworks bloomed across the sky.
“Boom—”
Jian Nian’s gaze turned to the boy. He wore only a black sweater, fine snow falling down his pale profile into his collar. Fireworks burst behind him, silhouetting his lean, youthful frame.
Her calm gaze held a note of confusion. She tilted her head slightly and asked, “Why did you bring me here to see this?”
“Because…”
The boy paused, his dark eyes quietly watching the snow-covered river. After a moment, he continued.
“I’m your tutor.”
……
“Hey, little miss, is this your bag?”
Her shoulder was jostled. Jian Nian opened her eyes and woke up.
The bus had stopped at some point, and beside her stood a middle-aged woman who’d just boarded and was looking for a seat, pointing at her bag.
Jian Nian pulled the bag into her arms. The woman took the seat beside her, her luggage pressing against Jian Nian’s legs, leaving little room to stretch.
Her shoulder was crowded too. Jian Nian shifted slightly, shrinking toward the window. The woman beside her had already struck up a conversation with her travel companion.
She rummaged through her bag, pulled out a bottle of mineral water, struggled for a moment to twist it open, and took a couple sips.
Her gaze drifted idly out the window, where a black Bentley passed through a tunnel, coming down a mountain road not far off.
Jian Nian screwed the cap back on, yawning drowsily. That looked like the same car from last night.
The black Bentley passed the bus, going the other way.
Jian Nian paid it no mind, looked away, hugged the bag to her chest, closed her eyes, and went back to sleep against the window.
This time, no dreams came. By afternoon, the long-distance bus arrived at the Huai City station.
The passengers crowded off the bus in a bustle. Jian Nian was squeezed among them, stumbling a little as she carried her bag off. Before she even got a look at her unfamiliar surroundings, she rushed to the roadside and crouched down.
Her face was pale, nausea rising in her chest and throat, her head spinning.
Once the bus had filled up, some people had been eating, all sorts of smells mixing together. Someone in the back had been smoking too—even after being told to stop, the smell had still drifted over.
Jian Nian drank half a bottle of water, and it took a long while before she felt a little better, enough to look around.
Huai City wasn’t like Wu City, one single small town—it was divided into many districts. This bus had arrived at the stop closest to Wu City, but it was still far from the central districts, out in the suburbs.
People scattered past her, dragging luggage, calling someone to come pick them up.
Jian Nian took out the folded drawing paper from her bag and opened it.
She’d looked things up on her phone earlier, writing down the addresses of relatives she could still remember, along with the routes to get there.
She’d always planned to leave Wu City—she’d just wanted to save up more money before coming to Huai City. Yu Qingqing’s situation had only moved up the timeline.
Right, first take a cab to the central district, then she could take the bus from there and save some money.
The breakfast stall owner had given her a hundred. Between the days of painting and the medical compensation, she had a little over seven hundred yuan total.
Jian Nian checked through the remaining money in her bag, and her fingers suddenly brushed against a hidden pocket. Inside was another five hundred yuan.
Her fingers stilled. “……”
She was quiet for a moment, then slowly closed the bag.
Jian Nian didn’t have a phone, so she couldn’t call a cab online. She had to walk to the taxi stand outside and flag one down.
“Where to, little miss?”
Jian Nian checked the address. “Building 7, Chaoyang Residential Community, Huai’an District.” · black lotus novel Novel · Black Lotus
“Got it.”
Seven years had passed, and Huai City had changed a great deal. New buildings she’d never seen before, the city planning shifted around—even Huai University had changed so much. Jian Nian looked out the car window, feeling a dizzying sense of how much time had passed.
The taxi pulled up outside the community, near the entrance to Building 7. Jian Nian walked in, following the path. After Ms. Xu had left Wu City, she’d cut off contact with the family entirely, so the only relatives Jian Nian knew were on her father’s side.
Her father’s cousin, maybe? She couldn’t quite remember.
Jian Nian entered the building, went upstairs, and knocked on the door.
After a long while, the door opened, revealing an unfamiliar middle-aged woman, a child crying somewhere inside.
The woman looked her over. “You are…? Who are you looking for?”
Jian Nian said, “I’m looking for Jian Yuda—Jian Heng’s cousin. Does he live here?”
The woman frowned, impatient. “Don’t know him. Doesn’t live here.”
With that, she shut the door, and Jian Nian could still faintly hear her scolding the child inside.
The woman’s face was unfamiliar—Jian Nian remembered Jian Yuda’s wife didn’t look like that. It seemed he’d moved in the seven years since.
Jian Nian crossed the name off her list and took the bus to the next address. The next one was her father’s uncle’s son—her cousin.
“Huh? Never heard of him. Don’t know him. It’s just me here.”
Next.
“Don’t know him. Who are you anyway? I’m busy, don’t bother me.”
Next.
“Oh, he doesn’t live here anymore.”
One by one, the names got crossed off. At the last address, the resident was more talkative, thought back for a moment, and told her:
“He moved out years ago. Seems like he offended someone? Couldn’t do business anymore, sold the house, and the whole family went back to the countryside.”
Every name was crossed off.
Jian Nian stared at the blank paper, stunned.
What… how had everyone moved away?
She’d considered, before coming to Huai City, that some people might not still be living where they used to. But she hadn’t imagined that not a single one would be findable.
The sky had already darkened, night falling, and faintly, rain had started up again.
A bus pulled up in front of her. Jian Nian, still lost in thought, boarded without thinking.
Only after she’d dropped coins in and sat down did she realize she didn’t need to take the bus anymore.
She was about to get off when she looked up and saw the red Route 77 sign on the display.
Jian Nian paused slightly.
The bus rolled along roads that were both familiar and foreign, stopping at a platform near the old residential area in Qinghuai District.
The rain had gotten heavier. Jian Nian opened her umbrella and got off.
The streetlights still hadn’t been fixed, a stretch of pitch-black road extending into the distance.
Jian Nian stood there a moment, then stepped toward the residential complex, her mind in a jumble. She couldn’t find any relatives—what was she supposed to do? Where would she sleep tonight?
…Did he still live there now?
Faintly, she heard footsteps behind her. Jian Nian turned to look—two dark figures were walking in the darkness not far off, looking like two men.
Seeing her look over, they stopped, standing at the roadside, casually lighting cigarettes, the tips glowing red.
“……” — Black Lotus Novel Reading | black lotus novel
A warning signal of danger rang out sharply in her mind. Jian Nian turned and quickened her pace.
Faster and faster, until finally she broke into a run.
“Hss!”
The road was too slick with rain. Jian Nian lost her footing and fell, and without even registering the burning pain in her palms, scrambled to grab her umbrella and kept running.
She didn’t stop until she reached the entrance of a complex with a security guard, finally able to spare the energy to look back—the two figures in the darkness hadn’t followed.
Jian Nian let out a small breath of relief and moved to head inside the complex. The guard stopped her. “Hey, little miss, you can’t go in here anymore.”
Jian Nian froze. “Why not?”
The guard laughed. “Why do you think? This place is falling apart. A couple years back the foundation had issues, got condemned as a dangerous structure, can’t live here anymore. The land’s been bought up, they’re waiting to develop a new building on it.”
“……” — Black Lotus Novel Reading | black lotus novel
The rain fell harder, pattering against her umbrella.
Jian Nian left the entrance, walked a little way, her ankle throbbing badly. Only now did she realize she’d twisted it.
She sat down by the roadside, checked it, and found her ankle had already swollen.
Her palm burned too. By the light of a streetlamp, Jian Nian saw a smear of red, thin traces of blood.
She sighed softly and started thinking about what to do next.
It was already very late—she needed to solve the problem of where to stay first. Without an ID card, a regular hotel wouldn’t take her, and the unlicensed inns that didn’t require ID weren’t safe or reliable.
Frowning, troubled, she looked out at the black curtain of rain and suddenly remembered—it had been like this back then too.
Her family’s property had all been seized, every relative and friend, afraid of getting dragged into trouble, had avoided her like the plague. She’d just come out of a police interrogation, with nowhere to go.
Back then too, she’d sat alone by the roadside.
While she was lost in thought, staring blankly, the boy had found her somehow, standing in front of her, his umbrella blocking the rain over her head.
He crouched down halfway, his dark eyes level with hers.
“Come with me.”
Jian Nian’s eyelashes trembled, and she finally came back to herself.
Her gaze settled on his face. She was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Why?”
“You’re not my tutor anymore,” she said.
There was nothing between them anymore.
The boy looked at her, silent for a long time. Those jet-black eyes looked so heavy, and she could see emotions churning within them, his expression complicated—but she couldn’t read it.
Just when she thought he wouldn’t answer, she heard him speak, his voice very soft, the words coming out with difficulty.
“Then… boyfriend? Would that work?”
“…Jian Nian.”
Two voices, different yet the same, rang out at once, cutting through the hazy curtain of rain, cutting through the long stretch of time.
Hesitant. Trembling.
Falling softly against her ear.
Jian Nian startled, and lifted the brim of her umbrella at once.
The next moment, through the veil of rain, she met a pair of jet-black eyes.
A man in a suit stood quietly in the rain, watching her, his face familiar yet foreign.
But slowly, it overlapped with the face of the boy from back then.
……
—Found her.
His moon.
