Ji Zhenshi turned a deaf ear to their words. She knelt down right in front of the three ancestral portraits, a mocking smile tugging at her lips. “This is some real modern Chinese horror. How many years has my grandpa been in the ground? And you still drag him out like this. Aren’t you afraid he’ll haunt you unfilial descendants in the dead of night, disturbing his peace? Not even letting him rest easy after death.”
She was going mad. Ji Zhenshi had never seen anything like this.
The moment words turned sour, out came Grandpa, Maternal Grandpa, and Maternal Grandma. They skimped on burning paper money at Qingming but always disturbed their peace whenever trouble arose.
Did they really think this would scare her?
Ji Zhenshi stood tall with a clear conscience and no guilty secrets. Ghosts held no terror for her. She wasn’t frightened in the slightest.
Ji Zhenshi muttered a couple of snarky remarks under her breath, then obediently knelt and kowtowed three times. “Grandpa, Maternal Grandpa, Maternal Grandma—Xiao Zhen is kowtowing to you and paying her respects. This Qingming, I’ll burn extra paper money for all three of you. Watch over your spirits in heaven and take care. Things down here in the mortal world are too messy. Just rest in peace, the three of you—no need to worry. If you start showing signs, it’ll turn into some horror story. Stay up there chatting idly among yourselves and rest well. We’re all fine down here. We can eat, we can run around. My violin playing wasn’t going so well before, but luckily I met a great teacher. Sister A-Yun has been supporting me the whole time, so I’ll keep pushing forward from here.”
Pfft.
Yang Cheng had sharp ears. She caught every word of Ji Zhenshi’s muttering even as she kowtowed.
How did Ji Zhenshi manage to be so hilariously deadpan? She kowtowed with utmost seriousness while cracking jokes just as earnestly, without a trace of nervousness.
The consequence of nearly losing it with laughter was the wave of displeased glares she received. A chill crept down Yang Cheng’s back. She clapped a hand over her mouth and bit down hard on her molars to stifle it.
God, she was innocent. Could they stop zeroing in on her every time? She wasn’t even the star of this show—just a background prop to fill out the numbers.
Was no one going to rein in Ji Zhenshi for her deadpan comedy routine in such a solemn setting?
This sister had way too much personality. No wonder she was infamous among the older generation.
These two siblings—one a jailbird thug, the other tangled up with his former fiancée. Not a single one gave anyone peace of mind.
The family genes must have mutated toward the extremes.
Ji Zhenshi kowtowed three times with exaggerated seriousness. From the corner of her eye, she saw Yang Ying barely containing her fury. Still kneeling, she didn’t rise and pressed on. “Esteemed elders, while we’re all here today, let me introduce my girlfriend to everyone.”
As she spoke, she pulled out her phone and held up the wallpaper, presenting it to the three portraits with all due formality. “This is my girlfriend. Her name is Li Yunli—a familiar face, actually. She’s twenty-nine this year, runs a coffee shop, about five foot five, and isn’t she gorgeous? Right? I’ve put all my taste into finding a girlfriend like her. We’ve been together three months now, things are going great, and we have no plans to break up anytime soon. If you like her, give me a dream tonight. I can bring her to sweep your tombs.”
Her final words were a blatant provocation aimed straight at Yang Ying.
Yang Ying wasn’t one to swallow such an insult. Fury blazed in her eyes, her teeth chattering with rage. “Ji Zhenshi! Are you trying to kill me with anger? Are you rebelling? Neither you nor your brother gives me a moment’s peace. He picks a divorced woman, and you go scavenging someone else’s castoff? Do you two even have me, your own mother, in your eyes anymore?”
In her rage, Yang Ying let slip a family scandal they’d buried deep.
Ji Tingjun! He’d gotten involved with a divorced woman who worked the KTV circuit—not exactly respectable company. Yang Ying had just finished quarreling with him over it, and he’d stormed off days ago without coming back.
Yang Ying’s head throbbed. Which twisted gene from her had her children inherited?
Why couldn’t they just date normally? Why did they always veer into forbidden territory—the exact opposites of what she wanted?
What was wrong with their family genes?
“Enough, enough. If you’ve got something to say, say it properly. Why resort to hitting the kids? She’s not a child anymore—do you really think you can handle her like before? Especially if she fights back?” Ji Yuancheng jumped up and grabbed Yang Ying.
Ji Zhenshi knelt ramrod straight. Even as Yang Ying wound up for another swing, she remained unfazed, countering with grave sincerity. “What do you mean ‘someone else’s castoff’? Whose castoff? Get your facts straight, Mom. Sister A-Yun dumped Ji Tingjun. Can you watch your mouth? In your eyes, any choice that doesn’t toe your line is shameful. But we’re free individuals, not puppets you can control at will.”
“Ji Zhenshi, you watch your tone too! You’re stubborn as a mule, never sparing a thought for your mother’s feelings. She’s this close to a heart attack from you and your brother. If something happens because of it, just see what you do then!” Ji Yuancheng tried mediating both sides but only grew more frantic.
The same scene, the same family crises. Ji Yuancheng had talked himself hoarse advising Yang Ying and then Ji Tingjun.
This house knew no peace. Living in constant tension like this, Ji Yuancheng felt himself on the verge of cracking.
At that moment, Ji Zhenshi’s uncle, seated to the side, spoke up. “Zhenshi, your uncle isn’t trying to lecture you, but you’re not a kid anymore. There’s a limit to your antics. You can’t throw a tantrum like this just because you’re mad at your mom. This is about your reputation. I get that young people chase individuality and want to stand out, but you can’t go this far. You’re still young— you’ll regret it later when you realize.”
“Exactly, your uncle’s right. Zhenshi, think about Li Yunli. Leaving aside that she’s mute, she’s the woman who was almost your brother’s wife. You can’t be with her no matter what—how will people look at your brother? Listen to your aunt and cut ties. Stop seeing her. I wouldn’t lead you astray.”
“Mom, Yunli Sis has recovered now—she’s not mute anymore. She can talk. And she never even married Cousin, right? He got locked up right after she arrived. They barely dated a day. Heck, calling them strangers wouldn’t be wrong. Compared to Cousin, Sis has spent way more time with Yunli Sis.” Yang Cheng jumped in to defend Ji Zhenshi.
How could they trash Li Yunli just because of her disability?
Besides, Li Yunli and Ji Tingjun had no real connection. They’d hardly met face-to-face. She’d been trapped in this house for six years, no dating, just treated like damaged goods from a failed marriage.
Who could Li Yunli turn to for justice? What kind of rotten luck was this?
“Shut your mouth! Who asked you?”
Predictably, Yang Cheng earned a glare from her mother.
Yang Cheng fell silent, shooting a sympathetic glance at the kneeling Ji Zhenshi.
Hang in there, vanguard.
Things had spiraled more out of control than she’d imagined. Yang Cheng’s shrewd eyes darted around.
No sign of Ji Zhenshi’s grandma today—she must have been deliberately sent away.
This wouldn’t do. She had to call in Ji Zhenshi’s savior.
Ganging up like this was unfair.
“Ji Zhenshi, just one question.” Yang Ying jabbed a finger at her, drawing a deep breath. “Do you still recognize me as your mother? Am I anything in your eyes? Ten months in the womb—have you forgotten how you came into this world?”
Ji Zhenshi didn’t flinch. She rose unhurriedly.
Since Yang Ying was set on humiliating her, Ji Zhenshi wasn’t one to back down either.
She’d already made Ji Tingjun lose face at his welcome-back party. When Ji Zhenshi went on the offensive, she wasn’t playing nice.
Li Yunli knew exactly what she was like—that’s why she’d guarded her so fiercely that night, preventing any rash escapes. An impulse could turn the situation awkward, and Ji Zhenshi would be the one to suffer.
“Of course I recognize you as my mother. But if you’re using that to morally blackmail me, then I have to ask you one thing, Mom: What’s more important to you—your daughter’s happiness or your so-called face?”
Ji Zhenshi could answer forthrightly that she acknowledged Yang Ying as her mother and would never forget the debt of birth. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be standing here today.
But could Yang Ying claim she truly prioritized her daughter’s happiness above all?
No. Yang Ying cared about her reputation. That’s why she forbade Ji Zhenshi from being with Li Yunli and Ji Tingjun from wedding a divorcee. To her, face was everything—she couldn’t bear the whispers behind her back.
“Mom, you can’t answer that, can you? Today, in front of Uncle and Aunt, and before Grandpa, Maternal Grandpa, and Maternal Grandma, I’m dead serious: I’ve set my sights on Li Yunli for life. I fought hard for this relationship. Please stop making trouble for Sister A-Yun. Being together hasn’t been easy for us. For me, in this lifetime, only Li Yunli and my violin are my lifelong pursuits.” Ji Zhenshi’s clear, dark eyes reflected the flickering flames, shadows and light weaving across her in a trance-like dance.
She was humbling herself earnestly to reason with Yang Ying.
Yang Ying didn’t hesitate, her stance unyielding. “Impossible! You’re barely twenty-something. What do you know about love? You’ve decided on one person just like that? Life’s long—things can change. Don’t be so sure!”
“I’m twenty-three this year. I’m not a kid anymore.”
“Even at eighty-three, no!”
“Oh.” The expected response. Ji Zhenshi’s expression unchanged, she took two steps forward. The portraits meant to intimidate her? She wasn’t scared. She even picked one up.
With calm composure, she stroked the face on the portrait. “Mom, look at our Maternal Grandpa. Back when you and Dad got together, didn’t he object because Dad was poor? But all these years later, here we are, right? So why can’t you believe in us? I’m young. I can afford to make mistakes. Let me take charge of my life once—just this once. Can you?”
The tools meant to pressure her had become her weapons.
Ji Zhenshi cradled the portrait and advanced two steps toward Yang Ying. “What do you say, Mom?”
“Don’t come closer! Ji Zhenshi, put down your Maternal Grandpa!” Yang Ying retreated a step, shoving at Ji Yuancheng, who was steadying her.
Had Ji Zhenshi lost her mind?
Ji Yuancheng took the portrait of his father-in-law from her arms. “Enough, Ji Zhenshi. Stop fooling around. Put your Maternal Grandpa down.”
“Wasn’t it you who brought these out to threaten me? Am I the one causing this mess today? Think about it— if Yunli hadn’t held her back when you attacked her, would that have blown over so easily? Li Yunli deserves to be bullied just like that?” Ji Zhenshi obediently set the portrait down.
Yang Ying had owed Li Yunli an apology all along.
“Ji Zhenshi, this is my last warning: break up!” Yang Ying blurted without thinking. “If you don’t, I swear I’ll die right here for you to see!”
Ji Zhenshi refused to yield, and neither would Yang Ying. Everyone seemed backed into a corner. Desperate, Yang Ying produced a fruit knife she’d clearly planned for this moment.
She roared like a madwoman. “Are you trying to drive me to death? Drive your own mother to it?”
Ji Zhenshi, you can’t bring shame to this family. You can be unhappy, you can amount to nothing, but you can’t make us lose face.
It was as if the older generation obsessed over reputation, terrified of backroom gossip.
But what did it matter?
Empty words held no power unless you let them in. Their mouths only betrayed their own poor breeding, while our spirits stayed unbroken.
Ji Zhenshi’s vision blackened. Amid the chaos, a stabbing pain pierced her heart. Her pupils reflected her mother holding her life hostage.
In a daze, Yang Ying’s face blurred. She recalled their first fight at the coffee shop, Li Yunli’s red eyes as she signed, “You can’t. Anyone but you.”
It cornered her again, leaving no escape.
Yang Ying pressed the fruit knife to her own throat, forcing Ji Zhenshi toward the precipice step by step. “Ji Zhenshi, watch your mom die today, then you and her can be together forever. Once I’m gone, no one will control you and your brother. Go wild for all I care. Is that what you want—your mom dead?”
Utter nonsense. Soft tactics failing, Yang Ying went hard.
Ji Zhenshi finally understood why Uncle and Aunt had been invited. If she refused to break up today, she’d be the unfilial daughter indifferent to her mother’s life for the sake of love, sacrificing everything.
Ji Zhenshi, how could you defy fate?
So many times she’d been powerless, all because her mother had birthed her.
Clenching her fists tight, Ji Zhenshi had never hated like this, never despaired so utterly.
Her sunken eyes stared blankly, numb with hopelessness. Grinding her teeth, her eyes turned bloodshot. “Mom, is it really worth it? You’re beyond reason—resorting to this to force me?”
It wasn’t worth it. How obsessed with face could someone be to push themselves this far? Or how little did she care for her daughter’s happiness to be so ruthless?
Ji Zhenshi thanked her stars countless times for meeting Li Yunli.
Thank goodness life held a place where she could grow freely, be respected, showered with love and warmth—keeping her from treading on eggshells.
She couldn’t hold on anymore. She was exhausted.
“Will you break up or not?”
“Can you stop forcing me like this?” A chill wracked Ji Zhenshi’s body. She reached to snatch the knife from Yang Ying’s hand.
Her uncle and aunt, stunned by the escalation, rushed in too, trying to restrain Yang Ying and wrest the knife away. The room erupted into pandemonium.
Ji Zhenshi stood in the thick of it, bearing the crushing pressure without a word.
She couldn’t agree to leave Li Yunli.
Why? Why did everyone have to corner her like this?
