“What? Who?” Li Ying’s gaze finally shifted from the stack of money. Shock seized him; he wanted to say something, but the words stuck in his throat. He swallowed them back and coughed uncontrollably several times.
Li Ying’s eyes widened as he stared at Li Yunli. “Ji Tingjun’s sister? That yellow-haired girl? You’re with a woman?”
Li Yunli narrowed her eyes, clear displeasure flashing in them.
After a pause, she spoke in a low, steady voice. “Her name is Ji Zhenshi—the same Ji Zhenshi you know. Love doesn’t follow rules. It doesn’t matter if it’s a man or a woman; as long as we understand what we have, that’s enough. Of course, I’m not here for your blessing. You’ve taken the money, so stay out of our lives from now on. Don’t interfere. We’ll each live our own.”
It wasn’t Ji Tingjun’s sister she loved—it was Ji Zhenshi herself, not some accessory to anyone else.
“Have you both lost your minds? Man or woman, this kind of thing—where does it leave our family’s reputation?” Li Ying’s mind buzzed, his eyes bulging in fury as he stared incredulously at the daughter standing before him.
She felt like a complete stranger. They’d never been close.
Li Yunli’s voice remained cool and emotionless. “Reputation? I thought that was the last thing my father cared about. The things you’ve done are far more shameful. You’ve dragged my backbone through the mud, and everyone points fingers because of you.”
She took deep shame in having a father like him.
That’s why she’d never bought into the idea that parents determined their children.
She and Ji Zhenshi were proof of that. Genes decided little; who you became in life came down to your choices.
“You!” Li Ying started to retort but stopped short.
His face twisted unpleasantly. He hadn’t expected Li Yunli to speak so sharply and eloquently after regaining her voice—it left him speechless for the moment.
“Li Yunli, those words are too harsh.”
“Truth hurts, whether it’s advice or fact.”
Li Ying’s expression darkened. “So what’s your point? Throw money at me to ignore your shameful little affair?”
Li Yunli raised a hand. “First, this isn’t shameful to me. Our views differ from yours, and I won’t force you to change. But I won’t tolerate you insulting it again and again.”
“Second, take the money and leave me alone, or don’t take it. Either way, you can’t control me anymore. I’m not the girl you could threaten and manipulate because of her disability. Go ahead and try—my methods might surprise you even more than today.”
But Li Ying had already seen the money. Would he really give it back? Not a chance.
No matter how firm one’s principles, money had a way of bending them.
Li Yunli was certain of his choice, which made her all the more composed.
Arguing from a position of strength felt like this—empowering, even giving her an unexpected surge of confidence.
Li Ying’s face turned black with rage. “Li Yunli, don’t you find this disgusting? And you’re flaunting it?”
Why was she so confident?
Li Yunli’s gaze dimmed. “No, I don’t.”
“……”
Silence fell, but Li Ying’s decision was clear.
He couldn’t bear to walk away from that much cash. In the end, he bowed to it.
Li Yunli turned her eyes away and started to leave. As she took her first step, she unexpectedly locked eyes with that woman. She glanced back and spoke suddenly. “Dad, I have the property deed for this house. Mom gave it all to me before she left—it’s the only thing she left behind. So get ready: either give me half its appraised value, or I’ll sell it. We’ll split the proceeds either way, and I won’t lose out.”
The unexpected blow stunned Li Ying, still lost in the thrill of his windfall. He stood there, dazed for a long moment.
“You’re selling the house? Are you trying to kill me?”
“No, I just heard you’re short on cash. And I want what’s rightfully mine. Now that I can speak, it doesn’t seem so impossible anymore.” Li Yunli smiled faintly, desolation filling her eyes.
Truth be told, she wasn’t sure if she could legally claim half now that Li Ying had married that woman. She’d need to consult a lawyer privately.
But she’d laid it out there. With the house weighing on his mind and the money in hand, Li Ying had no appetite left for bothering Ji Zhenshi.
The place was a rundown siheyuan-style house in a prime location. Even in its sorry state, its size meant it could fetch hundreds of thousands—maybe more.
Li Ying had probably wanted to sell it for ages. He’d hinted at it darkly or pressured her outright several times. But with the deed in her hands, and after her mother’s death when the neighborhood office helped register the property in Li Yunli’s name, nothing came of it.
Thank goodness Li Ying had been on the run from debts back then.
With her disability, Li Yunli couldn’t be forced to sign without her consent, and selling it would leave his family homeless anyway. So the idea fizzled.
She knew exactly what Li Ying and that woman were scheming. They figured a mute like her couldn’t fight back, even with the deed.
As long as they weren’t desperate enough to sell, they’d let her hold onto it. She wouldn’t come back to live there anyway—what waves could a mute make?
Li Yunli had seen through their games from the start. Before, she’d clung to it as her mother’s legacy, even when coerced, even when desperate to escape or cornered into marrying Ji Tingjun. But now? No need.
What was hers, she wouldn’t yield to anyone.
“Li Yunli!” Li Ying’s roar shook the air.
Li Yunli walked out of the alley with light, unhurried steps. For the first time leaving that house, a profound sense of relief washed over her.
Xiao Zhen, I won my first battle—for us.
………
TV Station Recording Site
After rehearsal, Tang Xien waited with Ji Zhenshi at the site for their official recording.
Tang Xien glanced sideways at Ji Zhenshi, now made up and dressed in an evening gown. Admiration deepened in her eyes as she watched the young woman calmly adjust her in-ear monitor. Barely in her early twenties, yet she showed no stage fright on such a grand platform.
It reminded her of her own younger days.
“You clean up nicely without much makeup—clear-featured and refined. Not bad.”
Ji Zhenshi had great bone structure; heavy makeup would overwhelm her sharp contours.
Standing beside her, Tang Xien realized Ji Zhenshi rarely wore formal attire. She always opted for casual, comfortable clothes.
Ever since getting a girlfriend, she apparently didn’t bother with her image.
Ji Zhenshi turned at Tang Xien’s words and chuckled lightly. “Thanks, Teacher Tang. But you look even better—not flattery, just genuinely pretty.”
Tang Xien, in her thirties, carried the elegance of accumulated years. With exquisite makeup and a glamorous gown, was part of her popularity due to her striking looks?
No wonder both men and women occasionally visited the practice room under various pretexts, even if her personality wasn’t the friendliest. She was beautiful, especially appealing to young women.
Tang Xien said nothing, eyeing Ji Zhenshi for two seconds. Then, unusually playful, she teased, “Alright, Ji Zhenshi. I’m here on Miss Li’s behalf to look after you—or watch you, to be blunt. Aren’t you worried I’ll report that straight to her?”
It was clear Li Yunli and Tang Xien got along well. Their personalities differed sharply, but that didn’t stop them from clicking.
Ji Zhenshi shrugged nonchalantly. “Sister A-Yun wouldn’t nitpick over something like that. She isn’t the jealous type about little things.”
No smoke without fire, after all.
Besides, if anyone should be jealous, it was her—of Tang Xien and Li Yunli. They still kept in touch privately. Li Yunli doted on her so much, yet with Tang Xien, she wouldn’t even share their chat logs.
Ji Zhenshi had thrown tantrums over it more than once.
“Looks like she trusts me—or us.” Tang Xien’s brows arched with a smile.
Ji Zhenshi leaned closer. Over the blaring music, she had to raise her voice. “Yeah, it’s weird, right? Why? I’ve even told her all the reasons you’re mentoring me, but she still doesn’t get jealous of you and me. It’s baffling. Do you two chat a lot privately?”
Even knowing she and Tang Xien had become accidental girlfriends, Li Yunli showed no reaction. Instead, she’d encouraged more interaction: Tang Xien was a great teacher, and talking more meant learning more.
No worry, no hint of jealousy.
Ji Zhenshi found it odd and couldn’t figure it out.
Had Sister A-Yun fallen out of love?
Tang Xien merely gave her a knowing smile and said nothing. Instead, she shifted gears. “You should ask Miss Li yourself. Anyway, focus. This is your biggest stage yet. The TV broadcast gets huge views—seize the chance. No slip-ups this time. There are pros watching from the station; don’t waste our rehearsals.”
Li Yunli really was a good listener. She hadn’t told Ji Zhenshi a thing, even though Tang Xien had said it was fine—she pretty much knew anyway.
Unexpected that Li Yunli hadn’t breathed a word to her either.
Ji Zhenshi sighed at the topic change. “Got it. I’ll give my all and not let you down, Teacher Tang.”
Then she muttered under her breath, “You two dodge topics exactly the same way. Sigh, I’m the superfluous clown here.”
Tang Xien watched her dejected look, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
They were both interesting—Ji Zhenshi and Li Yunli.
During the official recording, Ji Zhenshi faced the sea of audience members below and took a deep breath before stepping to her spot.
She and Tang Xien had rehearsed countless times, crafting unique details for the piece. This was truly her first stage.
Tang Xien stood poised under the spotlight, Ji Zhenshi a meter back. They exchanged a glance.
A duo from another world.
Their synergy was honed to perfection—every movement, every detail flawless. As an unknown violinist partnering with Tang Xien on such a formal stage, this marked a new chapter in Ji Zhenshi’s performing career.
The hall fell silent. The soaring melody pierced every heart.
In the piece’s final moments, Tang Xien halted, handing those precious seconds to Ji Zhenshi.
She embodied mentorship, selflessly yielding the spotlight. Though just over ten seconds of solo, on a gala stage like this, it was invaluable.
“Thanks, Teacher Tang,” Ji Zhenshi said earnestly backstage.
She understood the intent behind that pause—not scripted in rehearsal, but Tang Xien deliberately creating space for her.
“Really, thank you.” Ji Zhenshi turned back, offering her arm to help Tang Xien, unsteady in her gown, down the stairs.
Tang Xien rested her hand on Ji Zhenshi’s forearm and descended slowly.
Backstage, as staff removed their mics, Tang Xien glanced at her. “See? My choice was right. You nailed it, didn’t you?”
She no longer needed those seconds to shine, but Ji Zhenshi did. Tang Xien was an established star; Ji Zhenshi a rising one with growing buzz internally.
Her messy split from her old agency had bred doubts—for both of them.
Ji Zhenshi needed those seconds to prove herself: solid technique, nerves of steel—a natural performer.
This was just the beginning. Onward, Ji Zhenshi.
“I won’t disappoint you, Teacher Tang.” All her gratitude boiled down to that promise. Her hunger for the stage burned brighter.
“No need to thank me. That million—you’d never pay it off without some push. I don’t do losing deals.” Tang Xien said it flatly.
“……”
Ji Zhenshi’s smile froze. “Oh.”
No wonder she had few friends. She did something nice, but it came out so oddly, snuffing out any gratitude.
Ji Zhenshi was starting to get her: sharp tongue, soft heart.
In the restroom, Ji Zhenshi changed out of the gown into her loose white tee and threw on a puffer jacket. She checked the time.
First thing, she slipped out through the staff exit, eager to leave the venue. The recording featured many stars, drawing throngs of fans with colorful support signs everywhere.
Crowds clogged the streets; people as far as the eye could see.
Ji Zhenshi wove through, phone in hand, darting across to the opposite side until she reached the white car under the tree. There stood that graceful figure by the vehicle, eyes bright with anticipation as she watched Ji Zhenshi approach.
Arms open in advance, Li Yunli caught the leaping Ji Zhenshi. Her fingertips brushed away stray hairs from her brows, then she planted a tender kiss on Ji Zhenshi’s eye corner. “Why the rush? Take it slow. I told you I’d wait right here. Let me see—our good child looks so pretty made up, shining on that stage.”
