Chapter 52

They stepped out of the restaurant, and it was already nearing midnight.

Fang Wei was flushed red from head to toe, clutching Teacher Wan’s hand and pouring out endless thanks.

Han Lijuan kept her arm slung around Fang Zhixiao’s shoulders as the two of them smiled and chatted, seeing Teacher Wan off. The moment he climbed into the car, the door slammed shut, and the vehicle pulled away—the smiles vanished from the family’s faces in an instant.

Fang Wei clutched his stomach and spat on the ground. “Fuck, that booze nearly killed me.”

As Han Lijuan released Fang Zhixiao’s shoulders, she gave her a shove. “Help your dad out.”

Fang Zhixiao stepped forward, grimacing at the overpowering stench of alcohol, and steadied her father’s arm.

He bunched his suit jacket in his fist, flailing it wildly as he ranted. “I’ve worn myself out to the bone for you!”

He was talking to Fang Zhixiao. She pressed her lips together. “Thanks, Dad.”

“If you don’t snag first place—if you don’t earn all this money back!” Fang Wei glared at her. “You’ll have wasted every penny I’ve shelled out!”

“Mm-hmm.” Fang Zhixiao murmured.

“‘Mm-hmm’ what?” Fang Wei bellowed. “Can you win first or not?”

Fang Zhixiao met his eyes. “Yes.”

He jerked his chin toward Han Lijuan. “Get her signed up for those classes. I’ll drink my guts out if I have to, but she better make something of herself.”

Han Lijuan waved him off. “I know, I know.”

Fang Zhixiao kept her gaze lowered. It wasn’t until Han Lijuan flagged down a taxi that she spoke up. “Mom, can we hold off on signing up next time? I can’t keep up with school anymore.”

“If you can’t keep up, then study harder during the week!” Han Lijuan bundled Fang Wei into the back seat and nudged Fang Zhixiao toward the front. “Miss this competition, and good luck finding another shot.”

Fang Wei jumped in. “Don’t listen to that teacher feeding you nonsense all day. Studying matters, sure, studying matters—but out of my whole class, how many straight-A kids are raking it in? Not a one makes what I do!”

“Exactly,” Han Lijuan said, her tone softening with visions of the future. “Zhixiao, just think: first place means partnering with the station. All those big-shot directors there—one gives you a nod, and you’re an overnight star.”

“While you’re shining as a celebrity, your classmates will still be huffing and puffing over their textbooks. Ah, the celebrity life… Sing a song, film a drama, and you’re pulling in millions.”

Han Lijuan glanced into the rearview mirror. It perfectly framed Fang Zhixiao’s profile. She let out a long sigh. “Ah, you’re so pretty—and you landed parents as forward-thinking as your dad and me. If I’d had your luck, I wouldn’t be in this sorry state now…”

“You, sorry?” Fang Wei snorted. “Sorry my ass! Has all that mahjong ground you down to a husk?”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Han Lijuan shot back. “What? You show up once a week and expect me to wait on you hand and foot?”

They launched into their usual argument, rehashing the same tired lines.

Fang Zhixiao had been part of this family for four years now. She’d heard it all a thousand times—no novelty left.

Whether they aimed it at her or hurled it at each other, it was always the same script.

Plenty of conflicts on the surface, but nothing ever resolved. High hopes pinned on her, yet she’d never once felt truly cared for.

They shipped her off to singing and dance lessons, dragged her to every competition, pulled shady strings for results, stacking the bets on her higher and higher.

But Fang Zhixiao herself? They couldn’t care less.

She’d never felt valued as a person.

Not even on stage amid roaring applause. Not while blowing cash or savoring her favorite foods.

The world wasn’t fair. Take adoption: Fang Zhi had scored a family like Chen Nian’s, while she got stuck with this one.

God, how she envied Fang Zhi—from that very first glimpse.

Prettier. More captivating. More talented. Better luck.

Fang Zhi was like the version of herself that only appeared in dreams. But the moment she woke, Fang Zhixiao despised that dream-self with a venomous loathing.

No way had Fang Zhi just won like that. Someone swimming in privilege could never outlast someone who’d endured as much as she had.

Everything was a transaction.

Fang Zhixiao had already paid so dearly. She had to claim even more.

By the time they pulled up to the hotel, Fang Wei was snoring like a freight train.

Fang Zhixiao and Han Lijuan hauled him upstairs and dumped him onto the bed. As Fang Zhixiao turned toward her own room, Han Lijuan called out. “Zhixiao, Auntie has something to tell you.”

Fang Zhixiao paused. “Mm.”

Han Lijuan furrowed her brows and smoothed her hair before speaking. “You’re still young—don’t drink at the table.”

“I know you’re doing this to make Teacher Wan happy, but you’re too young. You don’t understand men yet.” A faint smile played on Han Lijuan’s lips, her expression brimming with confidence. “Men are mostly a lecherous bunch, but that’s exactly why they go crazy for pure, innocent girls. The sweeter and more naive you seem, the more they’ll fall for you.”

“So from now on, even if you can drink, pretend you can’t hold your liquor. Dodge anyone who tries to pour you more, and don’t lay on the flattery too thick.” Han Lijuan stepped up to Fang Zhixiao and gently smoothed her hair. “Things that come too easily aren’t treasured. You’ll be worth a fortune someday—don’t sell yourself short too soon.”

Fang Zhixiao’s throat bobbed as she swallowed, her eyes fixed elsewhere.

Han Lijuan patted her shoulder. “Alright, you’re worn out from today. Go get some sleep.”

“Mm.” Fang Zhixiao murmured her agreement, then headed to her room. She locked the door behind her and wedged a chair against it for good measure.

The finals were scheduled a little more generously, some twenty days later.

Fang Zhi had performed well in the semi-finals, but with no one pressuring her to snag a trophy, everyone relaxed once they were over.

Classes resumed as usual, club activities carried on, and life settled into a pleasant, unhurried rhythm.

True to her word, Fang Zhi dropped any grudges with Chen Nian over Fang Zhixiao after that dinner. She simply made sure to nudge Chen Nian toward basketball club practice on schedule. There was Chen Nian, a lone girl bouncing around amid a pack of boys, and Lin Tianyi would flash her a big thumbs-up whenever he saw.

“You’re my idol,” Lin Tianyi said. “I wouldn’t dare set foot in the basketball club.”

Chen Nian rolled her eyes at him. “You’ve got idols galore, and a whole list of things you’re too scared to try.”

“Exactly,” Lin Tianyi replied. “That’s why anyone who does the stuff I’m too chicken for is my idol.”

Chen Nian ruffled his hair. “Here’s hoping you become your own idol someday.”

Lin Tianyi stared at her, frozen in place for a long moment.

It must have been one of those ages when self-awareness suddenly clicks into place. For days afterward, Lin Tianyi threw himself into trying all the things he’d always shied away from, channeling a full-on chuunibyou protagonist vibe.

Chen Nian found it hilarious—and wonderfully inspiring.

Without making any effort to seek her out, Fang Zhixiao might as well have vanished entirely from Chen Nian’s world.

That is, until the eve of the finals, when Fang Zhixiao showed up at the gymnasium entrance and called Chen Nian outside.

Fang Zhixiao was something of a school celebrity, and the boys around instantly erupted in whoops and hollers.

Chen Nian chucked her basketball aside and jogged over. “What’s up? Something wrong?”

“There is.” Fang Zhixiao shoved her hands into the pockets of her school uniform and jerked her chin. “Let’s talk somewhere else.”

“I’ll be right back!” Chen Nian called, waving to the club members behind her.

“Wooooh~~~~~” The boys howled again.

Ignoring them, Chen Nian trailed Fang Zhixiao out of the gymnasium and into the adjacent classroom building, all the way up to the rooftop.

It was after hours, so the rooftop stood empty, with nothing but the wind for company.

Fang Zhixiao came to a halt, and Chen Nian spoke first. “Out with it.”

Fang Zhixiao cut straight to the chase. “I’ll answer your question from before if you tell me Fang Zhi’s song for the finals.”

Chen Nian eyed her and let out a long breath.

When Fang Zhixiao got no response, she added, “No tricks this time—I just want to know what she’s singing. We trade info straight up. Who actually wins? That’s for the stage to decide.”

“No deal,” Chen Nian said.

Fang Zhixiao’s brows knit together. “Why not?”

Chen Nian replied, “I don’t want your answer anymore.”

Fang Zhixiao pressed, “What about something else? You could ask a different question—like what song I’m doing, or how I’ve been training.”

Chen Nian shook her head. “I don’t want to know those either.”

“You did before,” Fang Zhixiao pointed out.

Chen Nian shrugged. “Things change. I’m over it now.”

Fang Zhixiao stood there, stunned.

Chen Nian watched her, and only in that moment did the surprise on her face make Fang Zhixiao look her age—young.

No, she had always been young. She had simply lacked the spark of youth: that defiant, questioning energy.

She had locked the world inside the rigid frame of her so-called rules, unwilling to step beyond them, unwilling to doubt or rebel—like some stubborn middle-aged soul worn down by years of hardship.

In the end, Chen Nian broke the silence. “Yes, I approached you with an agenda, but not the kind you imagine. I don’t care about whatever contests you enter or prizes you chase, or what perks I’d get from being your friend. I was just… interested in you.”

“You’re not like the rest of us. So I figured you must’ve grown up in a different world, with different experiences. Before, I thought that.”

“After learning all this, I wanted to get to know you better. If possible, I even hoped we could spend more time together—playing games, chatting, just hanging out and having fun.”

“But now I don’t think that’s necessary anymore. I’ve seen some things, and I can pretty much guess the answer you’re going to give me. I don’t agree with it, but I know I can’t change your world.”

Chen Nian smiled, a twinge of sadness in her heart. “Truth is, there’s no right or wrong way to live your life. As long as you can live with yourself, and the person you become in the end is a choice you made… then it’s all fine.”