Chapter 36: Disc Life Part 1

Yan Muyu hadn’t expected Qiu Chao to be so bold.

She was caught completely off guard by the kiss.

After closing the windows, Qiu Chao had practically lunged at her, forcing Yan Muyu to stagger back a few steps before she could steady herself.

Just as she opened her mouth to scold her, Qiu Chao seized the opportunity, leaving them locked in a heated tangle of lips and tongues.

On screen, the glamorous female star had shared countless kisses, her ambition unmatched, yet her heart was more steadfast than anyone’s.

It wasn’t uncommon in her industry for co-stars to fall for each other during filming, but even the romance with her male lead from the award-winning art film that had launched her career had been nothing but hype.

Perhaps it stemmed from seeing too much adult entanglement in her youth. Under the ambiguous lights of the KTV, she would push open heavy doors to deliver drinks and fruit platters with the orders.

The man who had brought his family last time for a private room now had a different companion, already pressed together eagerly in that setting.

Qiu Chao hadn’t been kissed by anyone back then, though plenty of people wanted to kiss her.

In such places, it might be the new assistant manager or a persistent customer.

While she recommended new drinks, they would leer unabashedly at the young girl’s body under the flashing carousel lights.

They thought they could get away with a quick grope, but she always dodged.

The girl was bare-faced yet naturally stunning, her slender eyes hiding the soft haze of a Jiangnan waterside town. Untouched by romance, she had already witnessed the filthiest sides of human nature.

The younger coworker on shift with Qiu Chao also dreamed of finding a decent boyfriend.

The girl spoke with a hint of northwestern accent, saying she needed to earn money to send home to her parents—her little brother still needed to build a house and get married.

When Qiu Chao asked what about you, the girl scratched her head and said, “As long as I find a good man to marry, that’ll do.”

Qiu Chao had heard those words from childhood on.

At first, everyone praised her biological father, saying her poor mother with no dowry had hit the jackpot marrying a businessman like him.

But after Father died, it became whispers that Mother was a black widow who brought death to her husbands.

Then a swarm of suitors descended, urging the widowed woman to remarry.

Widowers in their fifties, ex-cons fresh out of prison, or disabled men missing limbs whose wives had died.

Back then, young Qiu Chao and her toddling little sister Qiu Yuan would often stand outside the room, listening to the aunts and nosy neighbors’ so-called sympathetic advice.

Her sister couldn’t understand, head down, clutching a grimy ping-pong ball she tried to stuff in her mouth.

Qiu Chao snatched the ball away, and even then, she had a faint premonition. Her life might be like that dirty little ball—empty, adrift like dust, easily tossed around by others.

But people weren’t plastic balls; a ping-pong ball could bounce back from the floor, but if she fell into the abyss, she’d shatter into pieces.

Unable to bear it any longer, her mother took her two daughters to the city to find work.

A woman who had lost her husband needed to be tough or she’d get bullied, especially with young daughters.

Mother started with a roadside stall, but city inspectors chased her down constantly, the fines eating up more than her earnings every few days.

Finally, someone couldn’t stand it and gave her a tip.

Timing was everything; that chapter passed.

Qiu Chao still remembered that rickshaw-turned rice noodle cart to this day.

The pot boiled furiously, steam rising day after day, clouding her mother’s face until years later, in dreams, Qiu Chao could barely recall what she looked like.

Life always held more bitterness than joy, and a single mother raising kids encountered all sorts of bizarre troubles.

From leering eyes peeking at baths in the urban village, to getting beaten after complaining about a leaky upstairs pipe, or the agony of saving for New Year’s purchases only to have half the money stolen.

Cold mockery from her maternal family, indifference from her late husband’s relatives over the two girls.

Qiu Chao had no choice; she had to help out.

She’d pick up Qiu Yuan from school, then take her sister to find their mother at the stall after her own classes.

The two sisters huddled on plastic stools—one doing homework, the other mixing seasonings.

Rice noodles came thick or thin, but to Qiu Chao, life wasn’t a mix of bitter and sweet; she always heard her mother crying late at night.

Was it longing for her dead husband? No, she just wanted someone to lean on.

Even after Qiu Chao achieved fame and fortune years later, in the dead of night, she’d still think not everyone could be that independent.

Too many external factors—society, family, the world around you.

Including the kids.

Qiu Yuan and I might have been Mother’s burdens.

She was so beautiful; she could have remarried someone suitable. But kids were a woman’s curse—no man wanted to play the fool, raising another guy’s children.

Most “interest” from men was just wanting a tumble in bed.

Then, finally, a man came along. Tall and sturdy, not handsome but pleasant-looking, he owned an audio store.

Qiu Chao never knew how her mother got together with him, but one day he approached Qiu Chao and Qiu Yuan and said hello.

Mother was a bit shy as she told them, “You can call him Daddy.”

Qiu Yuan had been born the year Father died, branded as a jinx. All the kindergarten kids had dads; she only had her sister, eight years older, to pick her up.

The teacher always worried, pitying the sight of the older one leading the younger across the busy street by the gate.

Traffic roared, crowds surged, no one’s pity lasting long—just a fleeting sigh.

Qiu Chao knew her mother had chosen carefully. Even precocious as she was, she couldn’t judge good from bad at first glance.

She dutifully called out “Daddy,” and little Qiu Yuan followed in her childish lisp.

They moved out of the urban village to the apartment above the man’s audio store.

Qiu Chao and Qiu Yuan got their own little room, the window overlooking the night market stalls—maybe that’s how he’d noticed their mother.

Audio stores rented out discs, and in their second month there, Qiu Chao got an old DVD player.

She loved movies: beauties in cheongsams gliding down narrow wooden stairs to meet handsome men.

Did Mother hope for the same?

Qiu Chao was a light sleeper; she could hear her mother’s voice, mingled with unfamiliar coquettish sounds.

Yet she still felt panic, as if it were all an illusion, this new daddy not as good as Mother thought.

She’d seen him come home late at night, sometimes bringing other men into Mother’s room.

At first, Qiu Chao thought she was overthinking.

Until one night she got up for water and caught a strange middle-aged man, who startled at the sight of her.

The next second, his eyes lit on her face with interest, reaching out—until the stepfather grabbed him.

The stepfather said, “Wait a bit.”

After the stepfather and the man left, she rushed into the room to find Mother.

Mother was asleep, deeply, heavily asleep.

The man dragged Qiu Chao out of the room and slapped her without mercy.

“Don’t tell your mom.”

The stall kept them out late anyway. Even now, everyone knew the rice noodle boss lady was with a man, but Mother still worked hard to earn.

She’d seen how city kids dressed and knew her daughters were pretty; she wanted the best for them.

Her dependence was just emotional solace.

And often, this man spent Mother’s money.

Now he dared to…

Qiu Chao clutched her face. She didn’t cry, just stared him down. “You think that’s possible?”

That year, Qiu Chao was fourteen, Qiu Yuan six.

She was already budding into a young woman, graceful and poised.

But Qiu Chao’s gaze was anything but girlish. At least then, gripping the fruit knife from the table, she looked ready to kill him without hesitation.

The man softened his tone. “Qiu Chao, this is for the good of the family.”

He knew exactly how to press her weak spot. “You don’t want your mom to be sad, do you?”

That became the root of Qiu Chao’s insomnia later on—more than anyone, she wanted to go back.

To tell that day’s self she’d made the wrong choice.

She was convinced.

But the man’s evil had long festered beneath his skin, stinking like rot. He promised it wouldn’t happen again, yet he persisted until Mother found out.

The fight that day shook the heavens. But now the threatened one was Mother.

The threats targeted Qiu Chao and Qiu Yuan.

The man wanted to sell off Qiu Chao; Mother flew into a rage, and they grappled fiercely.

Some hatreds fester too long in a woman’s body. When Qiu Chao came home from school, she found the audio store cordoned off with police tape.

She stood dazed at the entrance. Everyone around knew her as the audio store owner’s beautiful stepdaughter.

“How old is this kid?”

“Fifteen?”

“What a sin.”

“What about the little one?”

“Her face… ruined. So pitiful.”

“The older one… heard they fought? They seemed close before.”

“You don’t get men. Second marriages with kids? Never good.”

“This guy marrying a woman with kids—daughters, no less. He probably wanted both.”

…

Qiu Chao stood stunned, trying to enter, but was held back.

In the end, she was taken away.

Qiu Chao saw Qiu Yuan first. Her sister had just been sedated, her face wrapped tightly.

One glance was enough to steal Qiu Chao’s breath.

The face was everything—how would little Xiao Yuan manage now?

She lacked the courage to see Mother until a female officer accompanied her. Then she beheld the riddled corpse.

“They must have had a violent argument. Your mother died from massive blood loss.”

“He was killed by your mother, also from blood loss.”

Qiu Chao found she couldn’t cry at all.

She had never been one to cry much as a child, so her late grandmother always said she had a heart of stone and would suffer for it one day.

But what future was there to speak of? Grandmother, if only you knew—letting your daughter get married was the mistake.

If her mother hadn’t married, she wouldn’t have been born, and she wouldn’t have died like that.

After her mother’s accident, someone from the old hometown showed up purely for show.

It was her mother’s burly uncle, an honest-to-goodness farmer who refused to take Qiu Chao in, claiming his own family was too poor.

Qiu Chao didn’t want to go with him anyway.

Her father’s side cared even less—after all, she’d been born a girl, not a proper heir to carry on the incense.

Qiu Chao thought: It’s fine. Xiao Yuan still has me, and I still have Xiao Yuan.

But Qiu Chao was too young in the end. The neighborhood’s concern never reached the school, and the kind-hearted donations didn’t last long.

The dead stepfather still had brothers who came harassing her every few days.

Xiao Yuan was sent to the orphanage. Qiu Chao was too old by then, and the place didn’t take kids her age, so she stayed out.

None of it mattered to Qiu Chao. She just wanted Qiu Yuan to grow up in peace, and she’d earn the money to fix her face.

Unfortunately, the stepfather’s gang of street toughs wouldn’t leave her alone.

In the end, Qiu Chao started working with that Northwest Little Sister, who asked her, “How old are you?”

Qiu Chao: “Sixteen.”

Northwest Little Sister: “You’re so pretty. You don’t look a day over sixteen.”

Qiu Chao thought the girl had a bluntly honest way of cutting deep, like she was saying Qiu Chao looked older than her years.

She might even upset customers like that someday.