Chapter 40

After the Junior High Entrance Exam ended, Chen Nian and Fang Zhi had a long vacation stretching out before them.

Liu Chunhua and Chen Junjie weren’t the least bit worried about the girls’ scores, so they had promised early on that once the results came out, each one could name a wish—and Mom and Dad would do everything in their power to make it happen.

Before the scores were released, Chen Nian had clamored about buying a villa. Liu Chunhua had knocked her on the head several times in exasperation.

But when the scores finally arrived, both girls had placed in the city’s top ten. Liu Chunhua and Chen Junjie strutted around the Family Courtyard like kings, while Chen Nian went quiet on the matter.

She was sitting at home watching TV when her dad came over, handed her an ice cream cone, and asked, “Niannian, what do you want? Do you like watching TV? Dad can get you a big-screen one. Like playing games? I saw Uncle Zhang’s son’s gaming console—it’s top-notch. Anywhere you want to go? We could take a family trip!”

Chen Nian slurped at her ice cream, eyes fixed straight ahead. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Chen Junjie sighed. “A villa… Dad really can’t swing that right now. Give me a few more years…”

Chen Nian burst out laughing and patted her dad’s shoulder reassuringly. “Even in a few years, we still won’t be able to afford one. I was just kidding. What’s so great about a villa? It’s huge—Mom would never keep up with the cleaning.”

Chen Junjie countered, “People with villas hire maids.”

Chen Nian shot back, “And you’d need money to pay the maid, Dad. Your salary’s pretty predictable…”

Chen Junjie blustered, “Nonsense! You have no idea…”

Father and daughter dissolved into giggles and playful tussles, the conversation veering hilariously off track.

In the kitchen, Fang Zhi was helping Liu Chunhua prep vegetables, meticulously cleaning a bunch of chives. She smoothed every single stem until it gleamed spotless.

Liu Chunhua wasn’t in any rush—it was the weekend, after all, and dinner could wait. She finished slicing the potatoes, leaned against the counter, and asked, “Zhizhi, have you figured out what you want?”

Fang Zhi pursed her lips, thought it over carefully, and nodded. “I have.”

Liu Chunhua squatted down in front of her. “What is it? Auntie’s dying to know.”

Fang Zhi looked up, her expression hesitant. “Auntie, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Nonsense,” Liu Chunhua said with lavish generosity. “Nothing you say could be bad. If Auntie can make it happen, she will.”

Fang Zhi paused, then said, “I want to earn some money myself.”

Liu Chunhua blinked, stunned.

Fang Zhi pressed on. “Auntie, is there any way I can make some money?”

Liu Chunhua took a moment to collect herself. She cleared her throat and explained patiently, “Zhizhi, listen. You girls are still kids—you shouldn’t be thinking about earning money. That’s adult stuff. When Auntie says ‘make a wish,’ it means we skip all that. Whatever you’d do with the money, Auntie will take care of it for you.”

Fang Zhi dropped her gaze. “I just want to earn it myself.”

Liu Chunhua: “…”

Hesitantly, she tried again. “Is it something you want to buy? Or just to feel what earning money’s like? If you really want to try, come help at Auntie’s shop. I’ll pay you wages.”

Fang Zhi neatly arranged the cleaned chives. “Wouldn’t that just be moving money from one pocket to another?”

Liu Chunhua nearly burst into applause.

These past few years, she’d often wondered whether having two such bright kids was a blessing or a curse.

No headaches over homework or grades, that was true. But a twelve-year-old set on standing on her own two feet? Now that was a real puzzle.

At dinner, Liu Chunhua and Chen Junjie exchanged a knowing glance. Chen Nian caught it and piped up, “I still haven’t decided.”

Liu Chunhua smiled. “Zhizhi has hers figured out. Why don’t you two talk it over, Niannian? See if you want to team up.”

Chen Nian: “Huh?”

She looked up from her rice bowl at Fang Zhi, who was quietly eating with her head down, clearly not eager to chat about it over dinner.

Chen Nian waved it off. “You two are unbelievable, throwing money at us like that. Let’s eat first. I’ll let you know when I’ve got an idea.”

The subject was tabled. Only after everyone had finished eating, cleared up, and settled down for the evening did Chen Nian slip into Fang Zhi’s room. “So, what’d you tell Mom?”

Fang Zhi hesitated. Chen Nian reminded her, “You forgot our deal?”

Yes, they’d made a promise before.

After the Graduation Gala ended—right after Fang Zhi had confided in Chen Nian that her dream was to become a big star—Chen Nian had mulled it over all night. The next day, she’d said to Fang Zhi, “Can we make a promise?”

They had agreed that no matter what they grew up to be,

They should be each other’s best friends, share their truest thoughts with each other, think of each other when facing difficulties, and help each other mutually.

This was probably a vow that many children had made to one another. Fang Zhi didn’t find it strange at all and agreed right away. Chen Nian knew that this agreement was too childish and frivolous for the long years ahead, but for now, this was all she could ask from Fang Zhi.

One more day was one more day; one more year was one more year.

Clearly, this agreement was still very effective at the moment.

After hearing this, Fang Zhi shared her true thoughts with her.

“I want to learn singing, dancing, and acting,” Fang Zhi said with a frown. “But it’s so expensive. So I asked Auntie to help me find some work I can do to earn money.”

It wasn’t much different from what Chen Nian had guessed.

Chen Nian squeezed Fang Zhi’s hand, which was clutching her clothes again, signaling her to relax. “Have you looked into it?”

“Yeah.” Fang Zhi nodded. Her fingers relaxed, and she began studying Chen Nian’s palm. “After the performance that day, the music teacher asked if I wanted to take lessons with her. She said she could teach me many things that aren’t covered in class.”

“There was such a thing.” Chen Nian was somewhat surprised.

“I told her I hadn’t decided yet and turned her down,” Fang Zhi said, looking up at her. “I’m not going to her place, so I didn’t tell you.”

“Why not go?” Chen Nian asked. “Don’t you like her classes?”

Fang Zhi said, “I like them quite a bit, but I think her… skills are just average.”

Chen Nian: “Heh.”

Fang Zhi: “Zhang Xiaoming’s mom is a piano teacher—the kind who’s won lots of awards. I want to learn piano too.”

Chen Nian felt sorry for her parents’ wallets. “Take it slow, take it slow. We’ll learn them one by one…”

Fang Zhi nodded. “Yeah.”

She was quite serious about it.

Chen Nian could tell from her expression just how serious she was.

Setting aside Chen Nian’s forward-thinking ideas for now, even just looking at the present, Fang Zhi’s desired path in artistic training was a heavy burden for their family.

She didn’t want to miss out on singing, dancing, or acting, and the teachers had to be renowned ones.

These weren’t skills one could master in a year or two. With Fang Zhi’s talent, if she truly studied them, no one could bear to snuff out this promising young talent just because of money troubles.

In the end, Chen Nian said to Fang Zhi, “We still need to tell my dad and mom about this.”

Fang Zhi lowered her head, looking very dejected. “I don’t want them to spend a lot of money.”

“Our family has made a ton more money these past two years,” Chen Nian comforted her. “Mom’s shop is really bringing in the cash.”

Fang Zhi: “She’s working so hard.”

Chen Nian: “That’s why we need to be understanding of her. We can’t hide things from her and make her worry about us again.”

These words truly swayed Fang Zhi.

The next day, she wrote a long letter. Then she called her uncle and aunt together and handed it to them.

In the letter, she expressed her gratitude to them, her love for this family, the dream that had suddenly blossomed in her over these past few months, and finally, she honestly explained why she’d proposed earning money herself.

Her words were sincere and earnest, carrying the unique innocence of a child. She even sat right in front of her uncle and aunt, head bowed, hands fidgeting nervously as she waited for them to finish reading. This melted Liu Chunhua and Chen Junjie’s hearts completely.

Ever since bringing Fang Zhi home, the girl had caused them almost no trouble.

Not only had she caused no trouble, but Chen Nian had also become smarter and more sensible. The two little ones spent all their time together—no need to worry about their studies or playtime. If a minor issue cropped up, a quick talk resolved it.

Where could you find such well-behaved children?

Where could you find such easy-to-raise children?

Sometimes, when Liu Chunhua chatted with other parents, she felt that the mental energy her family spent raising two kids was less than what others spent on one. Especially after opening her shop and getting busy, she had less time to spend with the children. On the rare occasions when emergencies arose and she couldn’t even make dinner, it filled her with guilt.

The children had given them so much: joy, companionship, a rekindled curiosity about the world, and hope always stretching ahead.

Fang Zhi wrote in her letter that asking to learn singing and dancing was too much, but Liu Chunhua didn’t think it was excessive at all.

To say something cliché, she believed all the money she earned now was meant to be spent on the children. Spending it on them made her the most willing and the least heartbroken.

She poked her husband beside her. “Finished reading?”

Chen Junjie wiped his glasses. “Yes, yes, finished.”

Liu Chunhua carefully folded the letter. Then she said to Fang Zhi, “Zhizhi, you need to think seriously about what Auntie is about to say.”

Fang Zhi nodded vigorously.

Liu Chunhua let out a long breath. “First of all, I’m thrilled that you now have dreams of your own, Auntie is. Dreams are one of the most important things in life—they give you a lifelong goal, bring you joy, and yes, hardship too.”

“Auntie supports whatever dreams you chase, because I know you’re a good kid. Good kids have their own worlds, and those worlds are always vibrant and full of happiness.”

“If you want to learn singing, dancing, acting, or play instruments, that’s all fine. But these pursuits will be incredibly demanding, especially on top of your schoolwork. Most kids find studying exhausting enough as it is.”

“If you push yourself too hard, it’ll break my heart—and you might not hold up. That’s why Auntie needs to sort out your schedule and classes properly. We’ll take it slow, step by step.”

“One more thing Auntie has to tell you: hard work does bring rewards, but not always on your timeline or in the form you expect. Plenty of people dream of stardom, and many have the talent for it, but there are only ever a handful of true superstars. What I hope is that you savor the process of learning these arts, cherish every chance to step onto a stage. Don’t cling too tightly to the outcome.”

“Because the more desperately you crave something you can’t have, the more you’ll lose.”

“All Auntie asks is that you stay happy and safe. We’ll do our best to tackle the tough stuff for you—Uncle and I—but we’re only human. Not everything can be perfect.”

Liu Chunhua took Fang Zhi’s hand and smiled. “And finally, Auntie wants you to know how grateful we are that you’ve come into our lives. What you give Uncle and me is every bit as much as what we give you.”

The room fell quiet after that, filled only with soft sniffles.

Fang Zhi was sniffling. Chen Junjie was sniffling. Chen Nian, perched not far away, had eyes brimming with tears; when her nose started to run, she snatched a tissue and blew with a mighty honk.

Liu Chunhua: “…”

Chen Nian: “Mom, Mom—you’re amazing…”

Liu Chunhua: “…”

Chen Nian: “Dad, Dad—say something!”

Chen Junjie: “I… I’m no good with words. Everything your mom said goes for me too!”

Chen Nian: “You work in government and you can’t even talk? No wonder you haven’t gotten that promotion…”

Chen Junjie balled his fist in frustration. “I did get promoted! I did!!!”

Chen Nian: “Just stay safe, okay? Don’t break any rules or anything.”

“Is that any way to talk about your dad?” Liu Chunhua burst out laughing. “If the promotions never come, you can always come help me at the shop. That salary of his isn’t much anyway…”

Chen Junjie clapped a hand over her mouth, his eyebrows shooting up like inverted V’s. “I will get promoted!!!”

The antics broke the tension, and everyone dissolved into laughter.

Chen Nian sidled up to Fang Zhi. “So, have you picked which one to start with?”

Liu Chunhua waved them off. “No guessing games, you two. I’ll talk to some professional teachers first…”

“Sounds good.” Chen Nian had total faith in her mom now. Ms. Liu Chunhua hadn’t just voiced everything she’d wanted to say—and the things she hadn’t even articulated—but had also planted a steadying anchor in her unsteady heart.

Just like Mom said, learning was grueling. Enjoying the process mattered more than anything, since no one could predict the results.

But with the family together, all pulling in the same direction, things would naturally veer toward the best outcome possible.

That evening, Fang Zhi stuck around the kitchen while Liu Chunhua cooked, refusing to budge.

The next morning, she slipped out early to buy breakfast for everyone. Once Mom and Dad had eaten and headed off to work, Fang Zhi hauled Chen Nian into the kitchen to figure out cooking.

Chen Nian: “…”

She knew the basics in theory, but her skills left much to be desired. Simple reason: her parents doted on her. Both could cook, and they’d never really let her near the kitchen growing up. Once she started working, takeout became her go-to amid the busyness.

The one time Chen Nian remembered properly cooking was after she’d moved in with Fang Zhizhu.

When you’re in love, there’s always that moment—you want to make a nice meal for your partner, see the delight on her face.

The outcome had been a disaster, though. Fang Zhizhu ate it, even complimented it, but that afternoon, rushing off to a gig, she’d ended up with a bad case of the runs.

“I…” Chen Nian eyed the pots and pans. “I can help with prep—washing veggies, picking them, chopping, that sort of thing. But anything else might be…”

Fang Zhi: “How can you say you can’t do it if you haven’t really learned?”

Chen Nian: “I have learned…”

Fang Zhi: “How do you know you’re no good if you haven’t practiced?”

Chen Nian said, “…Fang Zhizhi, you’ve gotten all cocky now. Do you really think that as long as you put in the effort, you can do anything well?”

Fang Zhi laughed. “Yes.”

Damn it, Chen Nian cursed silently to herself.

The way Fang Zhi laughed—confident and radiant—was so much like Fang Zhizhu on stage.

Or rather, Fang Zhi had always been Fang Zhizhu. It was just that the person she had once admired and idolized so deeply had stepped down from the stage, entered her everyday life, and come right to her side.

The feeling was just as wondrous as that day when she had lugged a pile of photography gear to meet Fang Zhizhu.

“Good luck,” Chen Nian said, lowering her head to look at Fang Zhi.

“You too,” Fang Zhi replied. Those simple words filled Chen Nian with energy.

Over the next few days, the two of them threw themselves into the effort and actually managed to cook dinner for their parents.

Chen Junjie was thrilled. “I’m still in my prime, and already living like I’ve retired!” he exclaimed. Liu Chunhua felt a little heartbroken about it and strictly ordered them not to cook again unless it was absolutely necessary.

But who decided what counted as necessary? That was up to them.

Whenever Liu Chunhua was swamped at the store, Fang Zhi and Chen Nian would show up with insulated food containers, bringing her meals and drinks. They’d stick around afterward too, helping out with whatever tasks they could handle.

This only made Liu Chunhua take Fang Zhi’s situation even more to heart. Before long, she had lined up a teacher and paid a full month’s tuition.

Piano lessons plus vocal training, starting from the basics of music theory—Fang Zhi had officially set foot on the path of artistic study.

The teacher’s house was quite a ways off, and Liu Chunhua wasn’t comfortable letting her go alone. She drove her there for the first two days, but on the third, Chen Nian physically dragged her back.

“I can handle it!” Chen Nian shouted at her mom. “What do you have to worry about with me around? It’s just dropping Zhizhi off at class!”

Liu Chunhua sighed. “You’re still a kid yourself…”

Chen Nian tugged at the corner of her mouth in a wicked, roguish grin. “This kid’s done plenty of things you grown-ups couldn’t manage…”

“Fine, fine.” Liu Chunhua gave her a light swat on the head. “You take her, then. Grab the parasol, the water bottle—oh, and down a whole bottle of Huoxiang Zhengqi Water before you go…”

Chen Nian grabbed Fang Zhi’s hand and bolted.

The two of them hurried through the blazing summer sun to the bus stop. Chen Nian held the umbrella so that most of it shaded Fang Zhi’s head.

Fang Zhi scooted a little closer. Their bare arms brushed together under their short sleeves, cool skin against cool skin.

“What are you going to do while I’m in class?” Fang Zhi asked.

Chen Nian replied, “There’s the City Library right by your teacher’s place. I’ll head there to read. It’s cool and quiet.”

Fang Zhi hesitated. “Won’t you get bored?”

“Nah,” Chen Nian said. “We hung out all day at Bookstore Street without a problem.”

Fang Zhi pursed her lips and fell silent. Chen Nian caught on and quickly added, “Of course, being with you is the most fun by far. But since I can’t… well, just thinking about you a short ways off, plinking away at the piano and singing little tunes? Tsk, that’s pretty great too.”

“Great how?” Fang Zhi asked.

Chen Nian burst out laughing. “Great that you’re so pitiful, haha! What if you mess up and the teacher smacks your hand? Haha…”

She was just begging for it.

Fang Zhi pinched a small fold of skin on Chen Nian’s arm, meaning to give it a twist—but she held back, afraid of actually hurting her. She tugged for what felt like ages, but it didn’t budge an inch.

“What kind of weird hobby is this?” Chen Nian asked, still chuckling at her. “If you want to hold my arm, just hold it. I’m not stopping you…”

Fang Zhi let go and turned her back to stare at the bus stop sign. She had nothing more to say to Chen Nian.