Chapter 109: Recognizing Her Grand Ambitions

“It looks like I ended up doing you a effortless favor. But I’ve heard your Boss Tang hasn’t been well lately—she even showed up at the Psychological Hospital. You’d better ease up on her worries, don’t let her stress herself into exhaustion.” Zheng Siqi sneered mockingly. “After all, without the company, no one will handle everything for her. She’ll just have to follow orders.”

Ji Zhenshi forced out a couple of perfunctory laughs, her mind growing hazier by the second. To make matters worse, Zheng Siqi kept talking as he poured her another drink.

Zheng Siqi was a master of social graces; there was no way she could refuse the liquor he offered.

She was forced to gulp down the glaringly clear alcohol. Li Shan wanted to speak up, but General Manager Liu silenced her with a single glance. “This newcomer seems to have quite the backstory. We’re all waiting for her violin performance, Boss Li—don’t ruin the mood.”

Li Shan had no choice but to hold her tongue. After all, no one was asking for anything excessive—just having Ji Zhenshi play a couple of pieces was an opportunity for her to show off.

Ji Zhenshi’s eyes were bloodshot from the drinking. She looked up at Zheng Siqi. “Thank you for your concern, President Zheng. Our Teacher Tang is doing just fine, and her mood is great too. You’ve been sitting the whole time, so I didn’t notice you. I didn’t realize you’d stood up specially—please, have a seat. Don’t stand on our account.”

Zheng Siqi had implied Tang Xien was ill, so she fired back by insinuating he was impotent, that standing up was a struggle for him and he couldn’t keep it up long.

At first, Zheng Siqi didn’t catch anything off about her words. Even after a moment’s thought, he didn’t dwell on it and simply sat down as she suggested.

Ji Zhenshi was getting thoroughly drunk, but by then the violin Zheng Siqi had prepared was brought over. She had no choice but to take it with both hands. “What would General Manager Liu and Boss Ye like to hear?”

“Anything goes. Play something you’re good at.”

“Alright.” Ji Zhenshi could barely stand steady with the violin in hand. A kindhearted server nearby wanted to help her, but a glare from Zheng Siqi froze them in place.

Zheng Siqi was deliberately trying to make her look bad. But since Ji Zhenshi was there under Tang Xien’s name, he was betting she wouldn’t dare make a scene. No matter what, she’d have to swallow her pride.

After finishing one piece, Ji Zhenshi’s hands shook so badly she could hardly hold the bow. A sharp, burning pain stabbed her back—the scabbed wound from her recent overexertion while forcing herself to play had split open.

“Great! One more!” Zheng Siqi egged her on.

“That’s enough, Xiao Ji isn’t feeling well tonight. Let’s call it here.” Li Shan stood up, reaching to take the violin from Ji Zhenshi. She could see how strained the girl was.

After all, this was someone Tang Xien had personally trained. Li Shan had only wanted her to network with these executives, to pave the way for her career and benefit the studio. She never intended for her to be humiliated.

Zheng Siqi was unusually animated that night. He blocked Li Shan. “No need to shield your people so fiercely, Boss Li. It’s just a few songs. Since she’s here, don’t spoil everyone’s fun.”

His words drew nods of agreement from the crowd.

After all, a little entertainment never hurt anyone.

Ji Zhenshi was cornered, unable to back down. She shot Zheng Siqi a glare, her face flushed beet red as she brushed Li Shan’s hand away. “Fine. Since all you bosses want to hear more, I’ll keep embarrassing myself.”

Blood seeped through the shirt on Ji Zhenshi’s back. Throwing caution to the wind, she gritted her teeth and played another piece.

Perhaps it was the alcohol dulling her senses, but the pain didn’t seem so bad anymore—she felt numb to it.

She also ignored the phone buzzing nonstop in her pocket—calls from Li Yunli and messages from Tang Xien.

In the end, Li Shan looked at the message from Tang Xien with complicated eyes and had no choice but to tell her the truth.

One piece after another, Ji Zhenshi felt this might be the most humiliating moment of her violin career. The audience wasn’t there to appreciate her music; they just saw her as a sideshow, a performer for their amusement.

Sweat beaded on Ji Zhenshi’s forehead like large droplets as the pain overwhelmed her. Seeing her in such a wretched state satisfied Zheng Siqi’s vanity immensely, as if he’d finally gotten one over on Tang Xien.

Even artists as proud as Ji Zhenshi and Tang Xien had to bow to capital in the end, didn’t they?

The crushing humiliation enveloped her. Ji Zhenshi desperately wanted to leave right then, but she thought of Li Shan—or more accurately, Tang Xien. If she stormed out, it would embarrass Tang Xien.

“Good! Not bad at all—you’re worthy of recognition from a genius like Tang Xien. I admire you.” Zheng Siqi raised his glass, urging her to drink again.

Ji Zhenshi could no longer muster a smile. She collapsed into her chair and mechanically downed glass after glass.

This was pure humiliation—for someone who treated the violin as her faith.

Ji Zhenshi couldn’t accept this version of herself, but reality was brutally cruel, bending her spine by force.

In that moment, she finally understood why Tang Xien never came to these networking dinners herself and never brought Ji Zhenshi along. She knew what it was like, or perhaps she’d endured such humiliation back when she had no power or status.

A violinist as brilliant as Tang Xien—she had already given her all to nurture her student.

Ji Zhenshi thought Tang Xien truly deserved the title of mentor, one who imparts knowledge, teaches skills, and resolves doubts.

So she couldn’t let her down.

Suddenly, a hand reached out from the side and snatched away her wine glass. In the next instant, she was pulled into a familiar, warm embrace. A trembling hand cupped her chin, holding her tightly against the person’s chest.

The scent of camellia flowers—it was Li Yunli.

Ji Zhenshi looked up in surprise. Li Yunli’s eyes were red-rimmed, brimming with heartache. She could barely speak, her voice choked as she held Ji Zhenshi’s chin. “Lean on me, my good child. You’ve been through so much.”

Turning back, there was Tang Xien standing protectively in front of her, clutching Ji Zhenshi’s wine glass so tightly her knuckles whitened. Her tone was ambiguous as she said, “Everyone, my student here can’t hold her liquor. To avoid ruining your evening, you’ve heard her play, and she’s drunk plenty with you all. So I’ll take her away now. Sorry for the trouble—I’ll down three glasses as penalty.”

With that, Tang Xien glanced back at Li Yunli, then swiftly drank three glasses from Ji Zhenshi’s cup. Finally, she shot Li Shan a look.

Li Yunli held Ji Zhenshi close with heartache, helping her to her feet and leading her out.

As soon as they stepped out of the restaurant, Tang Xien whirled around, unable to hold back any longer. She demanded of Li Shan, “Do you think those hands of hers are meant for fawning over capitalists at the dinner table with wine glasses?”

Tang Xien rarely lost her composure like this. Li Shan, who followed close behind, jumped in surprise.

They’d been friends for over a decade, and this was the first time Tang Xien had ever blown up at her like that.

Li Shan defended herself. “I’m doing this for her own good. Getting her out there, showing her face, building her presence—that’s paving the way for her, isn’t it?”

Tang Xien cut her off with a wave of her hand, her voice icy. “Do you know she was injured just a few days ago from that stage accident? What you’re doing is slapping me in the face. Do I need her to do this kind of thing?”

Back when Ji Zhenshi had worked under Zheng Siqi, she’d left at just twenty-two, saddled with a million in debt, because she couldn’t stomach his ways. She’d followed Tang Xien without hesitation.

Tang Xien knew the weight of that trust. It wasn’t just boldness; there was unwavering faith in her that went unspoken, but both of them understood it.

As the mentor Ji Zhenshi spoke so highly of, she couldn’t be the one to push her into the abyss.

Ji Zhenshi, I am your mentor. I will always protect you completely.

“Which one of us didn’t claw our way up like this? Why can’t she? Did we sign her just to keep her on a pedestal? Besides, it was only a couple of songs and some drinks. We didn’t ask her to do anything more.” Li Shan frowned, feeling awkward from Tang Xien’s outburst.

Tang Xien’s anger was palpable. She pointed at Ji Zhenshi, who clung tightly to Li Yunli behind her, and demanded coldly, “Did you know she was injured? Is the student I poured so much time and money into meant for currying favor with the powerful? You know me—I said she doesn’t need to do it this way, and she doesn’t. Don’t impose your idea of ‘good’ on her. She’s my protégé; don’t make decisions on your own.”

She didn’t hold back even with her close friend.

Because she’d once bowed her head to people like them. Now she didn’t need to, and she didn’t want Ji Zhenshi to walk the same path—especially not when the girl trusted her teacher so completely.

A true talent scout recognizes grand ambitions and clears the path ahead. That was Tang Xien as a teacher.

Ji Zhenshi trusted her, and she would never betray that trust.

“Li Shan, after all these years as friends, don’t you understand me at all? Did I spend all that money signing her just to use her as a cash cow?” Tang Xien’s voice was frigid. She pointed at the bloodstained back of Ji Zhenshi’s shirt, her eyes thin with anger. “Besides, didn’t I tell you she was injured and needed rest? This is a work injury! And you let her drink—what if it leaves her unable to play the violin? Have you lost your mind?”

Tang Xien spoke rapidly, making everyone present’s hearts clench.

She was truly furious.

Li Shan was startled by her sudden rage. Coming back to herself, she reflexively defended. “It was Zheng Siqi. Everything was fine until he got petty and targeted Xiao Ji right there in front of everyone. Without him stirring things up, none of this would’ve happened. I was thinking of her.”

Zheng Siqi was such a petty man, holding grudges and picking fights at every opportunity. He bullied Ji Zhenshi because he knew she wouldn’t dare walk out.

Tang Xien knew some of the history between her and Zheng Siqi. She knew he resented her but couldn’t touch her directly, so Ji Zhenshi became the target.

And Ji Zhenshi was stubborn, refusing to yield even a little, ending up force-fed alcohol.

“What are you considering for her? Don’t think I don’t know. Li Shan, you only see her commercial value. I know we differ in our worldviews, so I’ve never interfered with your operations. But has your hand stretched too far?” Tang Xien cut straight to the heart of Li Shan’s motives.

Li Shan was a businesswoman, Tang Xien an artist. Their values clashed inevitably, and they’d had an unspoken agreement to stick to their roles.

But tonight, Li Shan had overstepped.

Li Shan didn’t deny it now that it was out. “You’re right, Xien. But can you deny that meeting more people opens more doors for her? You can’t keep her under your wing forever. She has to forge her own path. She’s not a three-year-old child. The purity you want to protect doesn’t exist—chasing ‘pure art’ without material pursuits is just delusional.”

Li Yunli’s brows furrowed tightly. She couldn’t hold back any longer. “Boss Li, regardless of the reasons, isn’t her health the top priority? It’s not that she’s fragile and I’m coddling her by keeping her from dinners or drinks. She’s injured—this is dangerous.”

She was angry; her restrained fury was plain on her face, her expression stormy and unyielding.

She wasn’t one to argue aggressively or make a scene, but her presence was no less commanding.

“And you are?” Li Shan didn’t recognize Li Yunli.

“I’m in a relationship with Xiao Zhen,” Li Yunli replied.

“What?” Li Shan could hardly believe it. She turned to Tang Xien for confirmation.

Tang Xien nodded, verifying it.

“When did this happen? Why didn’t she tell me?” Li Shan distinctly remembered asking Ji Zhenshi before, and she’d said she was single with no plans to date.

What was going on now? And Tang Xien had known?

Li Shan felt deceived, her brows twisting in anger. “So what does this mean? You’re openly giving her special treatment now? Ji Zhenshi can do whatever she wants—no networking, no rules?”

Tang Xien said, “They just got back together; it wasn’t intentional concealment. I knew about it. We’re not trying to give her special privileges. But if you’re taking her to these dinners, at least ensure her safety, right? What if something happened? Li Shan, I ask you—who’s responsible if she’s injured, gets force-fed drinks, and something goes wrong? Who can take responsibility?”

Ji Zhenshi clearly wasn’t much of a drinker; slamming that much alcohol with her injury was too much for her body.

“I was right there! How many times do I have to explain? It was purely Zheng Siqi picking fights. Otherwise, tonight would’ve gone fine. Xien, I get that you’re upset, but flying off the handle at me without hearing me out—what’s the point?” Li Shan’s face was cold as she spoke.

This was the first time in all the years she’d known Tang Xien that they’d argued.

Tang Xien’s sharp tongue could reduce people to tears effortlessly.

Mentioning Zheng Siqi again only fueled Tang Xien’s fire. Without thinking, she snapped, “Don’t bring up Zheng Siqi with me. I’m not an idiot—I can guess exactly how you guilted her into coming. I’ve said it before: I don’t care about the profits she brings me. I’d rather be squeezed on resources than mingle with people like them. Can you respect me? Respect my choices?”

Li Shan had walked right into the line of fire.

Part of Tang Xien’s anger stemmed from feeling her long-held principles—idealized but ultimately unheld—were being shattered, and her ongoing helplessness. After offending Zheng Siqi and his crowd, she’d faced roadblocks for the past six months. That pent-up frustration now boiled over onto Li Shan.

With a cold snort, Li Shan let her own anger flare, losing restraint. “Tang Xien, aren’t you being too obstinate? You’re forcing these principles you idealized but couldn’t stick to onto Ji Zhenshi. You just want to prove to those who once tormented you that success doesn’t require fawning over power, right? Let’s be real—you think you’re her mentor, but hasn’t Ji Zhenshi just become your tool by proxy? And she’s still thanking you, thinking you’re some divine savior.”