Zhong Jia had let Pu Chu leave first because she trusted that she could return in one piece.
After all, this was a society governed by law. If a rising singer who’d been making frequent public appearances suddenly vanished without a trace, the He Family—or perhaps it was better to call them the Zhong Family now—didn’t have enough influence in the business world to sweep it under the rug.
The bodyguards’ straight-faced decision to part and let the informed Pu Chu go was proof enough that Zhong Jia wouldn’t be in any danger, even on her own.
“Where to?” Zhong Jia asked as she slid into the Bentley alongside Butler Shen. She was curious what medicine Zhong Kefei had up his sleeve.
Butler Shen didn’t give the driver any instructions. The engine roared to life, and the young man in white gloves smoothly guided the car from the side road onto the main avenue. In the rearview mirror, they could clearly see the bodyguards’ vehicles falling in behind without delay.
“The master wishes to see you,” Butler Shen replied. “You can catch a nap to recharge if you’d like.”
Zhong Jia snorted. “Sounds like Zhong Kefei wants to chat all night. I thought I’d made myself clear last time.”
With the spacious rear seat all to herself, Zhong Jia was perfectly at ease—aside from a mild complaint about the air conditioning. Even then, her request came politely: “Mind turning it up a bit? Thanks.”
She had no intention of giving the hired help a hard time or using the car’s understated yet luxurious fittings to gauge just how deep her father’s pockets ran. Even Zhong Kefei’s intentions had come straight from the butler without her prying. In short, she had zero interest in any of the possibilities this trip might hold.
“It won’t take up much of your time.”
Zhong Jia nodded as she forwarded the details she’d gathered so far to Xie Yingnian. “I hope not. I should be with her right now, after all.”
Gazing at the starry sky flickering past the window, the exhaustion from her all-nighter began to ease as Xie Yingnian’s face surfaced in her mind amid the clouds. The unease of this unfamiliar setting faded away with it.
Drowsiness wrapped around her like a soft blanket. Keeping one eye open—just in case—she leaned against the window and dozed lightly.
Meanwhile, Xie Yingnian had just returned from out of town. With the movie about to start filming, there was a mountain of prep work, and as the lead actress, she was pulling more than her share of it.
As soon as they exited the airport highway, she hung up her call and told the studio driver, “Take me home to grab my car.”
The navigation rerouted from some recording studio to a gated villa community under tight security.
The white car’s headlights pierced the midnight darkness as Xie Yingnian floored the accelerator, pulling out of the garage. A gust from her speed set the neatly trimmed bushes rustling.
She’d shared her real-time location via WeChat. Glancing at the phone on its mount, she gripped the wheel tight, eyes locked ahead, pushing the speed just shy of a ticket.
The app wasn’t perfectly precise—there was some lag—and the other marker was still moving, so she couldn’t pinpoint the exact spot. All she could do was get as close as possible.
Zhong Jia had explained the situation, and after mulling it over, Xie Yingnian figured nothing bad would happen. Still, she couldn’t shake the worry or sit idly at home waiting like someone had suggested.
A little over half an hour later, the tires crunched to a stop at the roadside.
Before Butler Shen could step out to assist, Zhong Jia popped the door herself—no airs of a spoiled young miss. Yawning hugely, she emerged with sleep-tousled hair, her bare ankles peeking out from white slippers as her slender feet hit the curb. There was something frail and lonesome about how skinny her legs looked.
Up on the second floor of the diner, Zhong Kefei took a drag from his cigar. It was the first time he’d laid eyes on his daughter, and his gaze lingered far too long—until her blue-tipped hair vanished under the eaves before he slowly pulled it away.
The photos in the dossier weren’t enough. It was as if he needed to scrutinize every inch of her to confirm this girl was truly his own flesh and blood.
He’d completely forgotten how Qiao Yingqiu had given him her heart so sincerely—he was the one who’d trashed her feelings.
Zhong Kefei had been a real scoundrel back then, and it was only fitting that his children had grown distant. He didn’t care about having grandkids underfoot. He’d endured years of swallowing his pride as a live-in son-in-law, wearing that label like a badge of shame, until he’d finally seized control of the massive corporation. He’d systematically clipped the He Family’s wings, settling every score. The only loose end now was the lack of a proper heir.
Like so many men whose lineage obsession ran bone-deep, Zhong Kefei fixated on carrying on his bloodline. His empire had to pass to his own child.
He Liuyin, confined to the old estate, had been frail since childhood and lacked the ability to bear children.
That left only the dragon-and-phoenix twins from his first wife. He Lifu, the son, would have been the top choice—if he was up to it, Zhong Kefei wouldn’t even consider Zhong Jia. After all, she was a daughter, raised away from him, and they were practically strangers.
But He Lifu wasn’t the one. A name change was simple, but his personality had been molded by the old man into pure He Family stock.
Indecisive. Hesitant in action. And worst of all, disloyal to the core—elevating him would put Zhong Kefei’s own neck on the block.
“Good?”
Zhong Kefei flipped the beef on the grill and added some veggies to Zhong Jia’s bowl with the serving chopsticks.
The entire late-night eatery had been booked out just for them. Zhong Jia had snuck out with some fellow contestants before, even hopping on a bike-share when cars weren’t an option.
Once inside, as the group scarfed down their fill, a robotic system voice had chimed in out of nowhere: “Good?” Stunned, she’d looked down to spot the sponsor’s robot lurking under the table—realizing every move was still on camera.
Half from the spice, half from the shock, she’d hacked and coughed forever, terrified the sneaky production crew would prank her later. Luckily, it blew over.
The chat had flooded with “Don’t scare the kid!” and “I’ll cover her bill!”
“It’s all right.” Zhong Jia ate without much enthusiasm. She wasn’t a big foodie. Last time the vibe had been fun, so she’d overindulged a bit. This time, it tasted like cardboard—totally normal.
Her impression of Zhong Kefei was frozen at Qiao Yingqiu’s funeral: the guy Xie Yingnian had drop-kicked face-first into the dirt. Years later, objectively speaking, he was strikingly handsome.
Maybe to redeem himself, he wasn’t as lean as before—his muscles strained against his shirt like they might burst free.
If not for the formal attire, he’d look straight out of a high-end club: top-shelf host material, steady vibe with a touch of restraint, not overly sleazy. No wonder he’d captivated worldly women like Qiao Yingqiu and He Liuyin.
“So, what do you want from me?”
Zhong Jia set down her chopsticks, unwilling to waste time dancing around.
The middle-aged man’s temples bore flecks of frost-white. Even the most ambitious fell prey to time.
Zhong Kefei admired her no-nonsense style, even forgiving her blunt tone. Parents always played favorites with kids who took after them. He fixed his gaze on her eyes and brows—so like his own—and got straight to the point.
“Finish the show, then quit the industry. No more music. Study abroad and learn to run a publicly listed company.”
Zhong Jia propped her chin on one hand, repeating his pitch.
To avoid the smoke, she’d shrugged off her jacket. Her sleeveless tee gleamed porcelain-white under the BBQ shop’s lights.
The grill’s coals popped softly, a ribbon of grease smoke vanishing into the brass vent. Outside, the night market buzzed. A jumble of earrings dangled from her ears—fearless about the pain—lending her innate edge a vivid spark amid the clamor.
Truth be told, Zhong Kefei was stunned at how well she’d turned out.
Like a seed carried in a bird’s beak and abandoned on a barren rooftop, somehow blooming into a brilliant white rose. She had grit, unbreakable—like him, rising from mocked salon errand boy to corporate overlord.
My daughter. She’ll listen.
“You’re young. Smart, too. And I’m still in good health. Dad’ll let you have your fun for a few more years.” Zhong Kefei softened his tone, slipping fully into the father’s role.
The pork belly sizzled, spitting fat. The server stepped forward to slice it for the guests.
“I’ll handle it,” Zhong Jia said.
She took the kitchen shears from the server, neatly cutting the pork into five or six even pieces. She flipped them, waited for both sides to char lightly, then grabbed a lettuce leaf. Meat, garlic, a dab of chili sauce—wrapped it up and handed it to Zhong Kefei.
“…You eat here a lot?” He bit in, meat and all. Tasted great.
Zhong Jia chuckled. “I worked at a BBQ joint.”
As the man blinked in surprise, she went on. “How else do you think I survived? Sunshine, dew, fresh air… or a sudden change of heart from the deadbeat dad who ditched his wife and kid?”
“My first job was delivering takeout at sixteen. Couldn’t even register on the apps, had to beg the shops for a shot. The e-bike’s battery was shot—dead on deliveries all the time after a dozen runs, no time to charge. I’d ditch it and sprint, legs nearly giving out, just to make it on time.”
“Cuz I looked young, cops were always checking my ID, so I’d stick to alleys later. But nights were risky…”
Zhong Kefei: “Your grandmother…”
“Yeah, that year. I was broke—desperate broke—and nearly did something stupid.” Her phone screen lit up. A WeChat from the contact labeled “Devil”: I’m outside.
Zhong Jia glanced out the window. All she could see was the restaurant across the street. She couldn’t spot Xie Yingnian herself, yet knowing she was there caused those churning emotions to ebb away like a receding tide, leaving only faint traces of bitterness lingering at the edges of her senses.
“The truth is, I’m short on money right now too,” she said, not realizing how much calmer her expression had become. “Just paid off a massive debt.”
She spoke with a smile, carrying none of the heavy burden one might expect from someone drowning in debt.
“I tried contacting you but couldn’t get through. Maybe someone like me just isn’t fated to have family ties, so I’ve learned to look on the bright side.” Zhong Jia rose to her feet and slipped on her coat, lest she get cut down by the death glare from the woman who saw her as some sickly invalid. Then she turned to Zhong Kefei. “It’s been over twenty years. I’ve forged my own path in life.”
Zhong Kefei sat in silence as her incisive question echoed in his ears: “What gives you the right to think you can control how I live the rest of my life?”
“With a few lousy bucks?” Zhong Jia waved her phone in front of him. Xie Yingnian’s name was flashing on the screen.
“Sorry, she has some too. Even if she didn’t, I’d still listen to her.”
