No One Else Will Do But You - Chapter 37

The snow was still falling, and tiny snowflakes landed on the two of them.

From a distance, one was tall and slender, the other small and delicate.

Of course, “small and delicate” was only temporary.

“Brother, I haven’t been in a good mood lately.”

“I know.”

“I was afraid I’d lose my temper and didn’t want to hurt you, so I thought about keeping a distance from you. Hiss—”

Jiang Mu’s hand, gripping Shu Luo’s hand that was in his pocket, suddenly tightened. He turned his face to look at him.

Shu Luo was stunned.

That look was very familiar. It was from the first year they knew each other, in the second year of middle school. At that time, he had helped Jiang Mu deliver a basketball uniform but got into a car accident on the way. To hide his injury, he had forced a smile to deliver the items. Back then, when Jiang Mu saw the injury on his forehead, he had given him the same look. He remembered it clearly.

“Luo Luo, you don’t need to hide anything from me. If you hide things even from me, then who else can step in and listen to you?”

The sudden warmth in his voice made his eyes feel a little moist and hot. Yes, he was always so disobedient.

“I’m so disobedient. Why do you always keep looking after me?”

Jiang Mu suddenly sighed and reached out to brush the snow off his shoulder. “Does it bother you when I care about you?”

Crackle, crackle—

There was a sound of something breaking open, like a turtle bravely poking its head out of its shell.

“Hehe…”

Seeing the person beside him smile radiantly, Jiang Mu finally breathed a sigh of relief. This kid was really too difficult to deal with.

“Luo Luo, are you going through a rebellious phase?”

In return, Shu Luo punched him.

“Jiang Mu, if I have a rebellious phase, the first person I hit will definitely be you!”

Shu Luo angrily pulled his fist back.

Seeing the faint blush of anger on his small face, Jiang Mu felt a tingling in his heart. It was a shame one hand was warming Shu Luo’s hand, and the other was holding things.

The snow was white and utterly quiet. All they could hear was the sound of their shoes crunching on the snow.

“Don’t keep things bottled up,” Jiang Mu said. Seeing Shu Luo’s occasional bitter smile made his chest ache.

Shu Luo shook his head and said helplessly, “I really can’t control it. I think my depression might be acting up.”

Jiang Mu abruptly stopped walking.

Shu Luo, who was walking ahead, was slightly pulled back by Jiang Mu’s sudden stop. He turned around to see Jiang Mu’s eyes filled with astonishment.

“Hey, don’t be nervous. I’m just suspicious, especially since I’ve been well for a long time.” Shu Luo smiled and patted Jiang Mu’s arm, signaling him not to worry.

Jiang Mu didn’t speak. His silence was terrifying. How was that possible? How could such a cheerful person have depression? And he’s only a 14-year-old boy. He’s so young, isn’t he?

“Shu Luo, that’s not a funny joke.”

Hearing the voice suddenly turn cold, Shu Luo said, “I don’t want to hide it from you. I was afraid you’d think I was crazy. I don’t want my mood to change randomly. I was afraid I might occasionally hurt you with my words, so I never talked about it, afraid that you would really leave me.”

“When did this happen?”

“Fourth grade, that time I almost drowned in Xiamen.”

Since childhood, because his father was busy with work and his mother had to care for his maternal grandmother far away in the United States while working, she didn’t spend much time at home. Only an ayi (nanny) took care of him.

Although the ayi was very kind to him, she gave him no sense of security. He believed there was nothing especially sad happening. He played and made noise at school, liking to attract attention from others, but he never violated rules because he couldn’t cause trouble for his parents.

So, when no one played with him, he liked to hide alone in his room, cover himself with a quilt, and enjoy the feeling of darkness and silence.

He slowly began to feel his own change: the difference between his persona in front of people and when he was alone, using happiness to mask his sorrow.

When he was drowning, his mind actually didn’t struggle at all. He felt the seawater was incredibly quiet. The suffocating feeling stimulated his brain, and he chose to close his eyes.

“That’s probably when it was diagnosed. My dad took me to see a psychologist. It was only mild, but my mom was so scared she quit her job and focused on staying with me. After that, I basically stopped feeling a sense of fear when I was alone.”

Jiang Mu didn’t say anything else. He just pulled him and walked back to the classroom.

This secret—apart from his family and Zhang Feiyang—only Jiang Mu knew now.

However, it seemed there was more.

After learning this secret, Jiang Mu observed Shu Luo constantly. Shu Luo’s behavior seemed no different from usual, except for being a bit moodier and smiling less than before. Jiang Mu was curious: Would the symptoms of this condition manifest in a crowd?

“Hey, my dear Nelson, it’s incredible that you would call me internationally.”

Carlo’s surprised voice came through the phone, yet he maintained his composure.

“My little friend seems to be unwell. I’m a bit confused.”

Carlo, wearing a white coat, sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, drinking coffee and looking down at the buildings below the skyscraper. He listened to his son’s voice and question coming through the phone.

“Unwell? Has something happened?” He was now doing his best to fulfill his duties as a father, answering the child’s questions and trying to meet his demands.

“His emotions have been quite unstable recently. He won’t even sit at the same desk as me, and he smiles less. Ever since he told me he had mild depression as a child, I’m a little worried he’s relapsing.” Over the phone, Jiang Mu’s voice conveyed a need for help.

Carlo took a sip of coffee and said earnestly, “It seems this child isn’t as cheerful and optimistic as he appears. Has something happened to him? Every illness has a cause, innate or acquired, doesn’t it, my dear Nelson?”

“You are a doctor. I think you should know how to guide him.”

Carlo stood up, put down his coffee, walked to his desk, and picked up his logbook. “Then start observing him from today. Whether he’s with everyone at school, in the dorm, at home, or alone with you. Until everything is certain, observation is the correct approach. Aside from the methods he would resist most, observation is what you can do. Write it down in that notebook, and email me weekly. Can you do that?”

The man’s gentle voice on the phone gave Jiang Mu a strange motivation. Being a doctor—that really had been his dream all along, because his father was not only a count but also an excellent psychologist. Although his father failed to manage his family well and couldn’t give him more love, he still had aspects worthy of respect.

“Mm.”

Hearing Jiang Mu’s quiet response, Carlo felt a mixture of relief and guilt. He truly had made a huge mistake, letting go of an excellent wife and an excellent child. Now, he could only try his best to make amends, to make amends with everything he had.

“Nelson, your mother mentioned that you invested in a tech company, is that right?”

Jiang Mu was surprised he knew, but after thinking it over, he said, “Mm, did Mother tell you?”

“Yes, that’s the only way I can find something to talk about with your mother! I heard the situation is good?”

“Mm, in terms of the current market, the demand for e-commerce is very large, and there is significant room for growth.”

“Deciding to go into business?” Carlo’s gaze rested on the report in his hand, which showed the basic operating status of the company and the name of the largest shareholder—Nelson’s mother’s name—likely because he was still a minor.

“I’m not sure. I just wanted to play around.”

Carlo smiled. “Our family business hasn’t involved commerce yet. If you wish, as your father, I fully support you. Moreover, you have good foresight. E-commerce will indeed be a dark horse with unlimited potential, especially over the next few years.”

Indeed, he started with the idea of just playing around, but considering the choice between dream and reality, he might choose reality.

“Mm, I will consider it.”

“Tell me if you need money.”

After hanging up the phone, Carlo felt a sense of regret. He still hadn’t heard his son call him “Father,” and it seemed it would be difficult in the short term.

He straightened his clothes, pushed the door, and walked out.

The outdoor sunshine fell casually everywhere in the office, and the light outlined the nameplate on the desk: First-Grade Psychological Counselor, Carlo Rochechouart.