Chapter 47 Part 2

Lin Tianyi replied, “The club president said she went to another city, and it’ll be for quite a while.”

“What kind of competition is it?” Chen Nian asked. “Usually two or three days is plenty.”

Lin Tianyi turned around and rummaged through his backpack. “I have a flyer! They had some left over from that day!”

“You’re such a packrat,” Chen Nian said as she took the flyer, more puzzled than ever. “Doesn’t Anliang have its own division?”

Lin Tianyi scratched his head. “Beats me.”

“Anliang has some really strong contestants,” Fang Zhi said, joining the conversation as she emerged from the classroom. “That’s why she headed to another city.”

Chen Nian examined the flyer more closely. It was an offline singing competition where the top five from each division advanced to the semi-finals—a fairly generous cutoff.

“She should have a shot at top five, right?” Chen Nian said.

Fang Zhi handed her the backpack. “Fang Zhixiao only wants first place.”

Chen Nian frowned. “The competition isn’t for another half month, and registration hasn’t even closed yet. Why go to another division…?”

“She only wants first place,” Fang Zhi repeated.

“Is first place that amazing?” Chen Nian peered at the prizes. “Whoa, the cash bonus is nice, and there’s some kind of filming opportunity too.”

The three of them headed out, and Chen Nian turned to Fang Zhi. “Do you think she can take first?”

Fang Zhi shook her head. “Not very likely.”

“Do you want to enter this competition?” Chen Nian asked.

Fang Zhi stopped in her tracks and looked at her. “I can’t get first.”

Chen Nian laughed. “You see potential in others, but not yourself.”

“Just the senior sisters my teacher trained outnumber me,” Fang Zhi said. “There are tons of people who sing better than I do.”

“It’s rare to see you so modest,” Chen Nian said, her interest piqued. “We’re not gunning for first place anyway. Think of it as stage experience. Singing up on a platform during a real competition feels totally different from practicing alone—especially with all those eyes on you…”

She kept chattering the whole way, but Fang Zhi neither agreed nor refused. They didn’t stop talking until they reached the bike racks.

After switching schools, they could ride together with Lin Tianyi for two streets before splitting off in different directions. Suddenly, Fang Zhi spoke up. “Aren’t you afraid of me hanging out with Fang Zhixiao? So why push me to join the competition?”

Chen Nian blinked, caught off guard. “That’s a different story altogether. Besides, Fang Zhixiao isn’t even in Anliang right now. You wouldn’t run into her.”

“You would in the semi-finals,” Fang Zhi pointed out.

“So what?” Chen Nian shrugged. “You’ve met before, and you’re in the same club anyway.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Fang Zhi said. “I’ve figured it out.”

Today, Chen Nian was the one biking, with Fang Zhi riding behind her. They hit a long downhill just as Fang Zhi spoke, and Chen Nian kept her eyes glued to the road ahead. Fang Zhi scooted forward and grabbed the hem of Chen Nian’s shirt at her waist.

Chen Nian was shocked and slow to react. It wasn’t until the slope leveled out and they turned into a quiet alley that she finally managed, “Figured what out?”

“Why did she feel so strange to me?” Fang Zhi asked.

Chen Nian did care about that question. She hopped off the pedals, planted her foot to stop the bike, and twisted around to face Fang Zhi. “Why?”

“I think she’s a bit like me.”

“Not in looks, but… in vibe.”

“I rarely meet anyone at school who feels that similar. The first time I saw her, I even thought she had to be… without a family, just like me.”

Chen Nian’s eyes went wide. “You have one now!”

“Ah, yeah, I do,” Fang Zhi said with a smile. She rubbed her hand downward on Chen Nian’s shirt in a comforting gesture. “That’s why I’ve figured it out now. She’s like the old me—from a long, long time ago, just that one stretch of time…”

Chen Nian’s waist tickled from the motion, and she squirmed. “The orphanage?”

“Yeah,” Fang Zhi confirmed. “The orphanage.”

“Did you ever meet her back then?” Chen Nian asked.

Fang Zhi shook her head. “No.”

Chen Nian hesitated. “Maybe you just crossed paths once, enough for a vague memory.”

“No,” Fang Zhi said firmly. “I’ve never met her. I didn’t make friends at the orphanage, but I remember what everyone looked like. Every single one.”

Chen Nian’s heart clenched, the ache stealing her breath for a moment.

She exhaled slowly and rested her hand atop Fang Zhi’s head. “Forget about it from now on.”

Fang Zhi smiled. “In time, I definitely will.”

Chen Nian smiled back. “Just don’t forget me.”

Fang Zhi gave her calf a light kick. “Keep obsessing over Fang Zhixiao, and I’ll forget you.”

“I wasn’t obsessing,” Chen Nian said, starting to pedal again. “This is all because of you.”

“I don’t care about her anymore, so you shouldn’t either,” Fang Zhi said.

“Okay,” Chen Nian replied.

“But I want to take part in the competition. I want to see what place I can get.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not going to make a fuss about it. I’ll just sign up for our Anliang Division.”

“Okay.”

Whatever Fang Zhi said was fine. Some terrifying notions were on the verge of turning into reality amid Chen Nian’s suspicions, making their current peaceful and happy life feel all the more precious.

That weekend, Chen Nian took Fang Zhi to sign up.

Fang Zhi gave an a cappella performance right there on the spot for the auditions and passed the registration stage without a hitch.

Two weeks later, the preliminaries began in each division. Chen Nian specially borrowed a camera from Zhu Dong and snapped plenty of photos of Fang Zhi, both onstage and behind the scenes.

It was a film camera, and developing the photos took time. Unwilling to trust some random shop, Chen Nian handed the roll of film over to Zhu Dong.

The prelim results were announced the next day. Fang Zhi had made it into the top five, earning a spot in the semi-finals.

It was already an outstanding result that had everyone thrilled. Liu Chunhua whooped and hollered with excitement at home, while Chen Nian tagged along with Fang Zhi, basking in a full day of star treatment.

~~~

Parents waited on her hand and foot with meals, fetched her things and helped with homework, and showered her with endless flattery and praise.

Once again, it proved that Fang Zhi had remarkable talent in this area—and that her parents’ heavy investment of time and money in nurturing her artistic side had paid off handsomely.

The semi-finals were being held in the provincial capital the following weekend.

With the schedule so tight, Liu Chunhua consulted with Fang Zhi’s vocal coach and arranged two extra intensive training sessions during the week.

Of course, they couldn’t interfere with her regular schooling, so the lessons were scheduled after school.

The little artist was working herself to the bone, so Chen Nian joined her parents in the pampering brigade. That entire week, aside from attending classes and studying, Fang Zhi wasn’t allowed to lift a finger for anything else.

Fang Zhi protested several times, unable to stand it, but Chen Nian threw a full-on tantrum each time to shut her down.

The whole family pulling together for a shared goal felt wonderful.

And yet, despite all their efforts, when the big day arrived, Liu Chunhua, Chen Junjie, and Chen Nian all told Fang Zhi the same thing without coordinating it beforehand: Winning didn’t matter— just give it your all. The performance didn’t have to be perfect—just have fun.

Liu Chunhua closed up shop for the day, and the family of four headed off to the provincial capital together.

This time, Chen Nian had packed a digital camera in her bag, one her dad had borrowed from a colleague at work.

She took plenty of photos along the way. That long-forgotten sensation of holding a camera always sparked an oddly intense excitement in her.

The competition kicked off that evening in a massive venue.

Fang Zhi had to head over early for rehearsal prep, and Chen Nian trailed right behind her, camera in hand, snapping shots left and right. Without the limits of film, her shutterbug impulses ran wild.

The venue was packed with parents. Every kid who’d made it this far carried their family’s eager hopes.

Chen Nian didn’t just love photographing the vibrant, full-of-life contestants. She was equally drawn to the parents—their every expression and glance told a rich story all its own.

The world through the viewfinder was a tiny one, and yet an entire universe.

Chen Nian squinted through one eye, flipping back and forth between the frame and reality. Then, with a sudden click, the whole moment seemed to freeze solid and plunge downward.

She spotted Han Lijuan and Fang Wei.

The wrinkles were gone from their faces, the white hair from their heads, but they were unmistakably the same people. Chen Nian couldn’t possibly mistake them.

After Fang Zhizhu’s death, she had called on them countless times, desperate for a meeting, for a chance to talk. But she’d always been turned away.

They were Fang Zhizhu’s parents, after all. Chen Nian figured that even a single word from them might reveal some side of Fang Zhizhu she’d never known.

They were Fang Zhizhu’s parents, so even if they refused to spare her a word for a full decade, she could forgive them—make excuses for them, like they were afraid to dredge up painful memories.

In time, Chen Nian came to understand the truth. They weren’t Fang Zhizhu’s parents at all.

They had simply taken her in, and once she’d grown up, they lived in the house she bought for them and spent the money she earned—without ever bothering to care about her in the slightest.

Now, Chen Nian lowered her camera and saw Fang Zhixiao standing behind them.

Those secrets she’d thought would never have answers began to peel away, one by one, exposing cruel shards of the truth.

Even though she’d suspected as much. Even though she’d steeled herself for it. When reality confirmed it, she still shook with rage.

This dreadful couple had only ever wanted to raise a money-making machine.

Investing in a smart and beautiful child—tossing her young into a ruthless world driven purely by self-interest, and letting her sink or swim.

Once, it had been Fang Zhizhu. Now, it was Fang Zhixiao.