Ming Tai and Yang Guishu were university alumni from the same year but different majors. They met at a mixer due to a misunderstanding, fought without holding back, and then naturally fell in love.
The Ming Family was not a wealthy clan, but they had substantial business interests. Yang Guishu came from a poor family; she was a genuine country girl with nothing to her name.
The two did not match in status, so their romance naturally faced opposition from Old Master Ming and his wife. They threatened that if Ming Tai did not break up with her, he would have no right to inherit the family business, and they would not give him another cent.
Ming Tai was a real man. He stood by Yang Guishu unwaveringly and insisted that even without the family fortune, he would marry her and weather the storms together.
In fact, he did just that.
Ming Tai had an older sister who was three years his senior. She was sharper and more capable in business than he was. His rebellious marriage prompted their father to settle for second best and groom the eldest daughter as the successor.
The condition was that she could only take in a son-in-law, and any sons they had would carry the Ming surname.
Without family support, Ming Tai and Yang Guishu embarked on a grueling path of starting their own business after graduation.
During that time, his mother could not bear to see her son suffer and provided a large sum of startup funds in secret. She also had the eldest sister quietly pull strings for her younger brother.
Even a tiger won’t eat its cubs. The father simply turned a blind eye.
Ming Tai and Yang Guishu’s business ventures did not go smoothly. They rose early and worked late, hustled in the markets, and chased down clients. They unexpectedly became pregnant during this period, but with no financial stability or time to spare, they gritted their teeth and terminated the pregnancy.
It was not until many years later, once their foundations were solid, that they prepared for a healthy pregnancy and had Ming You.
Old Master Ming had figured that since his son was a lost cause, they could at least take in a legitimate grandson to raise.
But things did not go as planned; Ming You was a girl.
Old Master Ming still clung to deep-rooted ideas about carrying on the family line and producing heirs. With both a son and daughter already, his preference for boys was not extreme, but after his disappointment in Ming Tai, he became especially harsh toward his granddaughter Ming You. He never gave her so much as a smile.
Much less held her or played with her.
From a young age, Ming You knew that her grandparents did not like her, nor did they like her father and mother. Her grandparents only liked her aunt and her aunt’s son.
She had never spent even one night at her grandparents’ house. During holidays when she visited the Ming Family home, she got scolded far more often than not.
Her cousin was three and a half years older than her and had grown up in the Ming Family. He was a sly one, skilled at charming everyone around him. He could sweet-talk his way into anyone’s good graces and was deeply doted on by Old Master Ming and his wife.
Ming You, on the other hand, had a rebellious streak from childhood. She could not say sweet words to people she disliked, nor could she fawn over elders to please them. She despised her cousin’s two-faced pretentiousness—one thing to faces, another behind backs—and snorted at him. She often clashed with him, teased him, and when he bullied her, she struck back with a counterattack.
Those who cried got the candy, so she endured plenty of criticism and lectures from her grandparents, and even got her palms smacked several times.
Her grandparents urged Ming Tai to have a second child. Ming Tai himself wanted another kid, boy or girl. But Yang Guishu refused.
In the following years, the couple acquired a car, a house, and savings. They even hired a nanny specifically to care for Ming You.
Good times did not last. The company hit a financial crisis, and Ming Tai and Yang Guishu poured all their time into the business. They dismissed the nanny and brought Maternal Grandma to live with them to take care of Ming You, who was now in elementary school.
Maternal Grandpa and Maternal Grandma had two daughters and a son under them; Yang Guishu was the eldest daughter.
Maternal Grandpa passed away early; Ming You had never met him. Maternal Grandma had always lived in her hometown village. Ming You only stayed there for one or two days each year during Chinese New Year with her parents.
The old house was small, so when they visited, they stayed in a hotel in town. Occasionally, they brought Maternal Grandma to their home for short visits.
The second aunt and uncle had always ranked at the bottom of their classes and hated studying. Neither went to university. The second aunt got into a junior college but only attended for two years; the uncle spent three years in vocational high school for nothing.
They idled at home for a while, then followed the trend and took out loans to contract a fruit orchard. Poor management led to losses. Once in debt, they eyed the well-off Ming Family, hoping to leverage family ties to borrow money for repayment, but they were turned away.
At that time, Yang Guishu and Ming Tai had only recently graduated and were struggling to keep their heads above water.
After Yang Guishu gave them an earful, the second aunt went to the coast to work and pay off debts, while the uncle followed local contractors on construction sites doing unskilled manual labor. The hard-earned money barely made a dent in their hundreds of thousands in debt.
It was not until Yang Guishu helped them clear the debts that the second aunt returned, married through an introduction, and the uncle also took a wife. Once the two families saw the eldest sister making money from her business, they tried to leech off family connections for a share.
Yang Guishu was soft-hearted. Ming Tai compromised by offering them employment contracts but refused to let them into core management. In the end, when the company faced crisis, those two families had indeed “lent their strength.”
From then on, relations completely soured.
Cracks also formed in Ming Tai and Yang Guishu’s marriage amid exhaustion from internal and external pressures, leading them toward breakdown.
During the divorce, Ming Tai only took the failing company. He gave the house, car, and savings entirely to Yang Guishu and did not fight for Ming You’s custody.
It was an amicable divorce by agreement. For custody, they decided: Ming You’s household registration stayed with the Ming Family, but she could choose to live with her mother or father. Whichever she chose, the other parent could visit anytime.
They did not hate each other, nor did they despise each other. They were simply worn out and could no longer find a warm, loving way to be together.
After the divorce, with the Ming Family’s help, the company came back from the brink. Not long after, Ming Tai remarried upon his new wife’s pregnancy.
His second wife’s father was a long-term business partner of the Ming Family. They followed the trend with an old man-young wife pairing—a twelve-year age gap—but it kept the benefits in the family.
After Ming Zihuan was born, providing the family line, Ming Tai’s relationship with Old Master Ming and his wife thawed.
The elders were generous, gifting a villa in the same neighborhood. On the surface, everyone lived separately, but in reality, Ming Zihuan ate and stayed at his grandparents’ house.
The cousin from the aunt’s side was now studying abroad, pursuing a DBA degree. Upon successful completion, he would likely enter the Ming Family business.
These years, Ming You lived with her mother and Maternal Grandma.
Yang Guishu was busy restarting her business and had little time for her daughter. Maternal Grandma’s cooking was poor, her education level low, and her accent thick. She and Ming You hardly exchanged more than a few words a day, so their bond was not deep.
By the time Yang Guishu’s hotpot chain store boomed and her daughter had grown independent enough not to need parental company…
She had pieced together this relatively complete version of the previous generation’s grievances from various sources.
“I matured early. Though I never suffered in terms of food, clothing, housing, or transport, I saw plenty of human coldness and worldly vicissitudes amid these families. My pessimism and aversion to others stem from never feeling the value in my own birth.”
She told a very long story. Yan Ningxi did not speak but occasionally squeezed the hand she held, letting her know she was listening.
When she finished the above, Yan Ningxi turned over and hugged her shoulders.
Ming You placed her hand over the one embracing her and continued, “Last night, my dad got drunk. A man who’s been soaking in alcohol for twenty years actually got drunk—not from overdrinking, but because he wanted to. In his half-dazed state, he told me many things from his youth with my mom. They were both so brave, throwing caution to the wind for love, loving fiercely and passionately, parting calmly and quietly, parted amicably, wishing each other well. Even today, neither has said a bad word about the other. As the fruit of their love, my birth has meaning.”
“Sister Yan, I’m not whining to you. There are plenty worse off in this world. I just… want…”
The unfinished words were blocked by Yan Ningxi’s finger pressed to her lips.
“We all have our own lives; we’re not accessories to our parents. Just live by your heart’s desire.” She said it to Ming You, but also to herself.
Yang Guishu and Ming Tai’s love was sincere and fervent. They overcame countless obstacles for it, giving each other the most beautiful years of their lives.
Yan Ningxi knew they did not regret it.
How could one regret loving with all one’s might?
Ming You pouted and kissed Yan Ningxi’s fingertip, then grabbed the hand at her heart. “I’m already living by my heart’s desire.” She tilted her head left to gaze at Yan Ningxi. “Sister Yan, listen carefully. I want to say it to you again: I like you.”
…
The eight o’clock alarm did not ring, but Yan Ningxi’s biological clock did.
Last night, she heard the girl’s “confession” again. Unlike the emotionless “I like you” from their first meeting, last night’s words brimmed with true feeling.
The night was dark; she could not see the light in the girl’s eyes or the expression on her face. But her hand touched the girl’s heart.
The girl did not lie; she did not deceive her.
Almost simultaneously, the girl lowered her head as she lifted hers. A first kiss happened only once, but kisses could happen countless times.
The girl’s kiss was sweet, laced with a faint wine aroma that grew more intoxicating.
Usually, the girl domineeringly held her while they slept, but last night, at some point, the girl curled up like a kitten and burrowed into her arms. She truly was a little furnace, warming her body in the cooling autumn night and scorching her heart.
Their hair strands intertwined, one wavy and one straight, colors distinct yet so complementary—you in me, me in you, inseparable.
Her right arm, pillowed by the girl all night, had gone numb beyond feeling. She was reluctant to pull it away.
She tilted her head against the girl’s hair crown, wishing she could freeze this moment, wishing every morning began like this. Surely every such day would be full of energy and satisfaction.
The girl’s hand hugged her waist—the same hand that, amid last night’s emotional turmoil, had nearly slipped under her clothes.
Too fast.
Kissing and skin-to-skin intimacy were different matters. She was not ready to nurture a relationship, had not considered if they could or should, much less calculated the worst outcome after taking this step.
She stopped it, held it back. The girl soothed her anxiety with the gentlest of kisses.
“Sister Yan, good morning.”
The one saying good morning tightened her arms, her forehead affectionately rubbing against Yan Ningxi’s jaw, lingering without further movement.
It seemed she was awake but could not get up. Yan Ningxi stretched her numb arm, flexed her fingers to restore sensation, then ruffled the girl’s hair. “Morning. Sleep a bit more; I’ll call you when breakfast is ready.”
“No breakfast. I want you. Stay and sleep with me.” She mumbled it, but her position did not change a bit.
Utterly lazy. And laziness was contagious.
Yan Ningxi checked the time on her phone: 8:20. She replied to two weekend work messages, then contentedly held the girl and went back to dreamland.
Her original life plan had been disrupted by the girl. Many things she had never considered before now filled her mind, one by one, as she sorted them into clear threads.
She was not made of stone; she had a heart. She too wanted a genuine life of her own, unswayed by external forces.
