“I know what you want to say, but please take a good look at whose business card this is.” Tang Xien saw through it all. She ground her back teeth silently as she spoke to her.
Did Ji Zhenshi think of her that way?
An inexplicable irritation surged within her. Her image as a mentor could not be tarnished.
Only then did Ji Zhenshi carefully take it out for a closer look. “Wow! Him! A legendary figure in the violin world. I really admire him—he’s incredible, and a left-hander too. Every one of his former students is hailed as a top talent in the violin community. He’s the idol of countless violin students. But he’s over seventy now and rarely appears in public. How on earth did you get his business card?”
So cool!
Tang Xien truly deserved her title as Ji Zhenshi’s talent scout. She knew exactly what she wanted.
This gift might seem worthless to others, as light as a feather, but to Ji Zhenshi, it was tantamount to fulfilling her dream of meeting her idol.
Tang Xien gazed at Ji Zhenshi’s stunned expression with satisfaction. “When I was abroad, I chatted with him a few times. We’re on familiar terms. If the opportunity arises, I’ll take you to meet him.”
Ji Zhenshi cradled the business card reverently, her eyes shining like stars. “Really? Thank you so much, Teacher Tang. You understand me perfectly.”
With a raised eyebrow and a light chuckle, Tang Xien nodded. “There, gift delivered. Happy birthday. Now head home… and celebrate. I’m leaving.”
Tang Xien had meant to say “go home,” but over the past few months, she had come to understand the situation.
Ji Zhenshi hadn’t returned to her parents’ house once. She hadn’t gone back to the coffee shop either. In the end, she truly had no home.
Unwittingly touching on a raw nerve, Tang Xien departed swiftly to mask her earlier faux pas.
Once Tang Xien was gone, Ji Zhenshi tucked the business card away with care and began gathering her belongings.
Home… All she could do was return to her rented room and make do with a simple meal.
Following her usual routine, she unlocked her phone. Several missed calls awaited her—without exception, all from Yang Ying or Grandma.
There was no sign of the one call she longed for. Ji Zhenshi’s eyes dimmed. Her solitary silhouette seemed so forlorn, diminished to a mere speck of dust adrift in the flickering play of light and shadow, with no place to settle.
【Ji Zhenshi, aren’t you coming home for your birthday today? Your uncle and the others are here. We’ve prepared a huge spread and even bought a birthday cake. Come back right after work.】
【Why aren’t you answering your phone?】
【Three or four months without a visit—are you holding that big a grudge?】
【So where are you staying now? Do you hate me that much?】
She probably did hate her. After all, Ji Zhenshi was just an ordinary person.
Her mother had ruthlessly torn apart her happiness. Was she supposed to be grateful?
No. People were inherently selfish to some degree, and Ji Zhenshi harbored that resentment. Thus, she refused to go back. She even ignored the calls outright and openly.
She had her pride too. She wouldn’t return to the Ji Family home and hadn’t shared her new address with anyone except Grandma—to spare her the worry. No one else knew where she lived.
Grandma, of course, stood firmly on her side, so Yang Ying remained in the dark about the address. She only knew that Ji Zhenshi had truly left the coffee shop.
Ji Zhenshi sometimes mused that if Li Yunli hadn’t been quite so uncompromising, they could have played it covertly—agreeing outwardly with Yang Ying while carrying on their romance in secret elsewhere.
Unfortunately, Li Yunli’s principles were ironclad. Once she agreed to part ways, she meant it.
With a sigh, Ji Zhenshi shoved her phone into her backpack. She replied only to Grandma’s messages.
【Just got off work. I’ll grab something to eat later. Not coming back today—I’m pretty wiped out lately. Teacher Tang finally gave me some time off, so I want to crash for a couple of days.】
【Don’t worry, Grandma. I’m doing okay. I’ve made good money these past two months. After paying back Teacher Tang, I wired you some more. Spend it freely—no need to hold back. I’m a violinist with paid gigs now; the cash is rolling in.】
After packing up, Ji Zhenshi scanned a shared bicycle and pedaled off on her humble ride.
It was a twenty-minute trip, but Ji Zhenshi pushed hard to save every penny toward repaying Tang Xien’s one million. She scrimped wherever possible.
Under the blazing sun, she worked up a full-body sweat. Unable to endure it any longer, she splurged on a milk tea—costing twice what a cab would have.
She slung her jacket casually over one shoulder and climbed the stairs, sipping her drink.
Ji Zhenshi was just an ordinary girl. She could grace the stage with her violin one moment and pedal through the sweltering summer sipping milk tea the next. All she craved was a life of freedom.
She pushed open the door and flung her arms wide. “Ah, my bed—I’m home!”
Unleashing her carefree side, Ji Zhenshi collapsed onto the floor for a nap right there.
Sleep deprivation had caught up with her. Her days were a blur of transit and rehearsals, topped off by Tang Xien’s rigorous demands on her figure—no slacking, no gaining weight, no letting her looks slip.
Poor eating, poor sleeping—she was utterly drained.
She slept straight through until nightfall. Rubbing her stiff neck, she rose from the floor. “Wow, totally refreshed.”
Though she’d slumbered all day and still felt wrecked, Ji Zhenshi willed herself onward. She peeled off her exhausted clothes, showered in the bathroom, and was blow-drying her hair when the doorbell chimed.
Approaching warily, she cracked open the door to find a Shansong delivery courier. “Hello, are you Miss Ji, last four digits 3476?”
“That’s me.”
“I’ve got a Shansong delivery here for your signature.”
Ji Zhenshi frowned in puzzlement. Who would send her something this late? She swung the door wider, accepted the bag, and noted its substantial weight.
A quick glance at the sender info showed it encrypted for privacy.
Inside was a lavish dinner—and a bowl of longevity noodles, prepared with evident care and effort, though hopelessly clumped.
The aroma alone clued her in.
She sat at the table, staring at the array of her favorite dishes, and muttered through clenched teeth, “Traitor!”
Grandma was the traitor.
Ji Zhenshi had shared the address with no one else.
This spread screamed Li Yunli’s handiwork. She didn’t need to taste it; the scents confirmed it.
So, Li Yunli remembered it was her twenty-third birthday. Yet there was no “happy birthday,” no call—just this feast.
Ji Zhenshi had petulantly withheld her address, secretly yearning for Li Yunli to seek her out, even as she sulked over the distance.
But Li Yunli offered no olive branch, leaving them locked in impasse.
Fine, break up it was!
Who lacked pride?
Not even a courtesy birthday call. Even after the split, wasn’t she still significant? So cold-hearted!
Ji Zhenshi snatched up her chopsticks. One moment her anger blazed; the next, it evaporated before the unappetizing bowl of clumped longevity noodles. After fussing with them awhile, she managed a bitter smile. “Happy birthday, Ji Zhenshi. Longevity noodles—for a long life.”
She crammed a huge mouthful past her lips. Seconds later, twin teardrops splashed into the bowl, crystal clear.
Sobbing openly now, she shoveled in more noodles, choking herself beet red. Inwardly, she made her wish—her birthday wish.
Refusing a simple call or greeting, yet pouring heart into this meal. Li Yunli was a study in contradictions: unyielding yet profoundly tender.
It left Ji Zhenshi too disarmed to stay mad.
Li Yunli, I’ve grown a year older.
Once, “growing up”—a phrase from Li Yunli—had felt abstract to Ji Zhenshi. Tonight changed that. For the first time since meeting her, she marked the day alone, outdoors—though still sustained by Li Yunli’s cooking. Even the longevity noodles mirrored the familiar taste.
She sensed a shift in herself. So reliant on Li Yunli before, her emotional endurance weaker in her presence, yet now she accepted the absence with eerie calm.
Li Yunli would never know what really crossed her mind that day outside the coffee shop, when Ji Zhenshi conceded, “You win.” What she yearned to say was: “Let’s stay together. I can’t live without you; you can’t without me. We can keep it secret, loving in the shadows if we must.”
But Ji Zhenshi held back. She knew rejection awaited.
Love lingered, yet Li Yunli’s priorities always trumped it—concerns heavier than their bond. Ji Zhenshi wasn’t blind to the reason. And because that cursed reason revolved around her, the pain cut deeper.
“These noodles taste awful,” Ji Zhenshi grumbled.
Handmade by Li Yunli herself, and yet… off by miles.
Was it deliberate? Ensuring even her birthday evoked memories of her?
Ji Zhenshi couldn’t pinpoint her own grievance. As she ate the comforting flavors, she inwardly damned Grandma as a traitor for the betrayal, all while wallowing in solitary birthday blues.
What difference did it make with or without Li Yunli?
She repeated the mantra, but self-deception faltered.
Wuwuwu—it made all the difference.
No one to indulge her birthday antics without reproach. Crucially, Li Yunli’s voiceless past brought long, confessional letters each year, penned in elegant script that whispered her boundless gentleness. No one else would brave horror films she despised that day, weathering her shrieks while bestowing a warm embrace.
Without Li Yunli, it wasn’t a birthday at all.
Ji Zhenshi eyed the silent phone on the table and muttered to herself, “If there’s no message soon, I’ll really lose it. You slave over this feast but skip ‘happy birthday’? Don’t think this year’s wish will include you.”
The threat rang hollow, devoid of bite. She fumed regardless.
Broken up or not, years of feeling merited one greeting, didn’t they?
Li Yunli, you’re stingy. I don’t like you anymore.
Resigned, Ji Zhenshi resolved to treat it as any ordinary day—eat, then bed.
She’d braced for deviation from the norm, steeling herself that sleep would erase it. But those longevity noodles arrived, dredging up memories.
The emotional chasm widened with every bite, grievance mounting.
At last, she couldn’t contain it. She dialed Zhang Fenglan. “Grandma! I can’t trust you anymore—you’re a traitor! Who’s your real granddaughter? She dumped me, and you still dote on her? Traitor!”
“You silly child—launching into that the instant you call? Who’s gotten under your skin? It’s your birthday—be joyful! What’s with the tears? How’s the day been? A year wiser; time to steady up. Always so impulsive—when will you grow up?”
“I’ll never grow up! And you’re asking who? You! How can I be happy? Why’d you give Li Yunli my address?”
Zhang Fenglan found the accusations baffling.
She knew her granddaughter inside out. It was mere pique, awaiting an out. That’s precisely why she’d shared the address.
Yet Ji Zhenshi’s vehemence made her wonder if someone had swapped the girl. “Li Yunli, full name and all? What grudge justifies that? Manners I taught you as a child—forgotten? She’s six years your senior; show respect. That ferocity explains why Yunli left you.”
Ji Zhenshi gulped down the stubborn clump of noodles. The final remark ignited fresh fury—a dagger to the heart.
Too cruel! She ached!
Beside herself, she unleashed her pent-up ire. “Don’t deflect! Six years senior or not, she was my girlfriend first. I called her Manager Li—that polite enough? Respectful? Happy now, Grandma? Did Li Yunli cast a spell on you? You adore her enough to sell out your own flesh and blood without a second thought? I’m furious!”
“So what? Sharing your girlfriend’s address—why fume? You were dying for her to know. And you’re head over heels yourself—bewitched? Say that to my face, and you’d catch it.” Zhang Fenglan’s logic was sound; she saw no fault in her actions.
Bedside brawls mended at the bedfoot. They’d reconcile soon enough.
Ji Zhenshi gnashed her teeth, on the verge of eruption. “Ex-girlfriend! I wasn’t pining for her to know! Imagine getting Shansong-delivered longevity noodles and all my favorites late at night, alone on your birthday—what a gut punch! Grandma, I’m livid. Li Yunli planned this—she’s overboard! She wants me in tears!”
She railed against Li Yunli’s “offenses” heedless of restraint, her tough front cracking into choked sobs.
Wasn’t this a knife to her tenderest spot?
Had Li Yunli appeared in person, Ji Zhenshi wouldn’t have crumbled so. Knowing the address yet opting for delivery only amplified the awkward care.
Zhang Fenglan paused at the tearful tirade. “She didn’t visit? Just Shansong’ed the noodles?”
“Not just noodles—a bunch of my favorite dishes too.” Sarcasm dripped from Ji Zhenshi’s voice. “Zero contact, then bam—a full table appears. I’d made peace with solo birthday vibes, and she salts the wound! Grandma, blame your leak of the address. Traitor! No more trust.”
“How do you pin it on me? Yunli confessed? Accusations need proof, child. You broadcast chaos online daily—Yunli browses too. She might’ve pieced it from traces.” Zhang Fenglan cleared her throat, mounting her defense.
Ji Zhenshi clenched her jaw. “I told one person: you.”
Grandma’s allegiance to Li Yunli never wavered, dooming her own granddaughter without qualm.
Sometimes, the frustration brought a mad urge to laugh—a thin-ice existence.
