Chapter 35: Playing the Violin

Ming Can had always been sharp and decisive, but she had never encountered such a Waterloo moment—and it was all because of a bedside cabinet.

She was so embarrassed that she wanted to disappear into the ground. However, running away wasn’t her style, so she resigned herself to sitting on the floor, watching as Chi Xiao, with his tall and broad frame, bent down to fix the bedside cabinet. Just when it seemed like he was about to succeed, and she was ready to roll her eyes at him, he suddenly put the cabinet down, feigned helplessness, and declared that he was going to smash it to pieces.

Ming Can was stunned for a moment, and then, almost instinctively, a hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

She pressed her lips together and slightly raised her eyelashes, only to realize how close they were. Chi Xiao was kneeling beside her, his face naturally handsome, with amber-colored eyes cast downward. She could almost count his eyelashes one by one.

A faint scent of mint wafted over—whether it was cologne or closet fragrance, it came from him, and it was inexplicably pleasant.

Ming Can’s pink lips parted slightly as she exhaled softly, averting her gaze. With little conviction, she said, “Then hurry up and smash it.”

Chi Xiao: “Mm, let me find an axe first.”

Damn it, this deadpan comedian!

Ming Can finally couldn’t hold back a soft, muffled laugh, her shoulders trembling slightly. She bit her lip hard to suppress the laughter, then pushed herself up from the bed, patted her bottom, and said with a lofty air, “You can handle the rest yourself.”

“Mm.”

Chi Xiao also stood up, and Ming Can, who had been looking down at him, suddenly found herself tilting her head upward. He seemed to rise like a mountain, prompting her to ask, “How tall are you?”

Chi Xiao: “189 cm, measured during my freshman year physical.”

Ming Can: “People who say they’re 189 cm are usually 190 cm or even taller.”

“Maybe.” Chi Xiao’s gaze dropped as he countered, “How tall are you?”

Ming Can: “Guess.”

Without hesitation, Chi Xiao replied, “Between 168 and 169 cm, closer to 168 cm.”

Ming Can was astonished. That was spot on—her exact height from last year’s physical was 168.3 cm.

She glanced up and mentally measured the height difference between herself and Chi Xiao. The top of her head only reached his chin, and at eye level, she could only see his Adam’s apple. To meet his gaze, she had to tilt her head far back—the closer they were, the more she had to crane her neck. At this moment, they were only an arm’s length apart, and Ming Can’s neck was already sore from looking up at him. Subconsciously, she shifted her heels back to create some distance.

In that instant, Chi Xiao suddenly reached out and grasped her arm, pulling her back slightly.

Ming Can gave him a look of offense. “What are you doing?”

Chi Xiao replied calmly, “I was afraid you’d fall.”

Why would I fall out of nowhere?

Ming Can brushed it off, but when she glanced out of the corner of her eye, she realized her calves were already pressed against the edge of the bed—a king-sized bed, no less. If she took even one more step back, she might accidentally fall onto the bed.

Chi Xiao’s bed.

Just imagining that scene made Ming Can feel a little breathless.

She composed herself and gave him a slight nod, then sidestepped to the side, slipping out of the narrow space between him and the bed.

“You can go back to what you were doing.”

With that, Ming Can turned and left the room.

It wasn’t exactly a hasty retreat, but her steps were quick, as if she were rushing off to do something important.

–

Dinner was delivered from the restaurant, and by the time they finished eating, it was almost seven o’clock. Chi Xiao took Miaomiao out for a walk around the resort.

Ming Can didn’t join them. She was mindful of the fact that Chi Xiao’s roommate was also staying at the resort and wanted to avoid the awkward situation of the three of them running into each other.

By the time they returned from their walk, it was almost Miaomiao’s bedtime.

Chi Xiao had already bathed Miaomiao once before and had some experience. That day, Miaomiao had fallen face-first while playing on the swing, making the bath much more challenging than today. Both father and son had kept quiet about the incident, so Ming Can had no idea that Chi Xiao had bathed Miaomiao before.

Tonight, Ming Can came specifically to help. When she walked into the master bedroom, she saw that Miaomiao was already bathed, clean and fresh, lying on the bed in neatly buttoned pajamas. His fluffy, soft hair even seemed to have been styled into a cool little look.

Ming Can’s expression was complicated as she complimented Chi Xiao, “You’re pretty good at this.”

Miaomiao tilted his head, hearing his mother’s inner thoughts: [Hmph, so this is the legendary ‘chosen dad-brother’? Looks like I’m not needed here. You two can just go on without me.]

Miaomiao: ?

Dad did such a great job, so why did Mom’s inner thoughts sound even more unhappy?

Why was she upset? Miaomiao’s little brain worked hard to figure it out.

Chi Xiao vaguely sensed that Ming Can was being a bit sarcastic, but he couldn’t understand why. He simply assumed it was her usual dissatisfaction with him and didn’t pay too much attention.

As Ming Can turned to leave, the little figure on the bed suddenly squirmed like a caterpillar, his small hands scratching all over his body. “Mom, I suddenly feel so itchy!”

“What’s wrong?” Ming Can returned to Miaomiao’s side, reaching into his pajamas to carefully check his neck and back. She didn’t find any mosquito bites or rashes, so after a moment’s thought, she quickly concluded, “The heating here is too strong. After a bath, your skin gets dry and itchy. Just apply some lotion, and it’ll be fine.”

After soothing Miaomiao in a gentle tone, Ming Can turned to Chi Xiao and switched to a more critical tone:

“Senior, children have delicate skin. You can’t use water that’s too hot when bathing him, and you need to remember to apply lotion after. I noticed you only moisturized his face—that’s not enough. You’ll have to be more careful in the future. Also, remember to turn down the heating when he sleeps later. Don’t let Miaomiao get too stuffy.”

Chi Xiao listened to her scolding without a hint of annoyance on his usually icy face. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and accepted her criticism with humility.

Miaomiao, hearing his mother’s inner thoughts, felt the gloom lift and became quite pleased: [Men really are unreliable. This family can’t do without me.]

This family?

It was the first time Miaomiao had heard such a term from his mother’s thoughts, and he was thrilled. He rolled around on the bed, flipping over twice under the covers.

Without even realizing it, deep down, Ming Can had already begun to see the three of them as a closely connected unit.

After finishing her lecture to Chi Xiao and personally applying lotion to Miaomiao, Ming Can left the master bedroom feeling satisfied.

As the night deepened, Chi Xiao turned off the main light in the bedroom, leaving only the bedside wall lamp on. After finishing his shower, he noticed that the little figure on the bed was still awake, his bright eyes wide open and fixed on him. Chi Xiao couldn’t help but feel a headache coming on. He walked over to the bed while drying his hair and asked, “Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

Miaomiao blinked. “I was waiting for you.”

Chi Xiao’s expression softened unconsciously. “What are you waiting for me for?”

“It’s been so, so long since I last slept with Dad,” Miaomiao said. “The last time we slept together was also at a ski resort. I remember we stayed in a really tall hotel, and the room was huge. But I like today’s house even more!”

It seemed that in another timeline, Chi Xiao had also taken Miaomiao skiing. It didn’t take a genius to guess that the trip had only involved the two of them, without Ming Can.

“Dad, it seems like Mom hasn’t seen you ski yet,” Miaomiao chattered on. “You should show off for her tomorrow.”

Chi Xiao was amused. “Why?”

“Because you’re super cool when you ski!” The last time Miaomiao had skied with his dad wasn’t too long ago in his timeline, so he remembered it vividly. “That day, when you took me on the park trail, I saw a bunch of aunties screaming and taking pictures of you. They were saying weird stuff like ‘let’s get married on the spot’ and ‘don’t fight me for him.’ But you’re already married, right? I’m this big, and they just acted like they didn’t see me. Hmph.”

Chi Xiao: “…”

He wanted to tell Miaomiao that your mom is definitely not the type of woman who’d be swayed by a man showing off.

Facing Miaomiao’s sparkling eyes, Chi Xiao sighed. “Our main task tomorrow is to watch you ski. If you don’t sleep now, you won’t be able to get up in the morning.”

Miaomiao kicked the blanket. “I’m not sleepy yet.”

This was Chi Xiao’s first time putting a child to sleep. He sat beside Miaomiao like a statue, completely unsure of how to coax him.

After a moment, he had an idea. He rummaged through the suitcase and pulled out an abacus toy that Ming Can had brought along—after all, even on a trip, learning couldn’t be forgotten.

Chi Xiao: “Since you can’t sleep, let’s do some math problems.”

Miaomiao: “…”

Chi Xiao leaned against the headboard and started giving Miaomiao problems. After just five addition and subtraction questions within 20, the previously lively and energetic child’s thin eyelids began to droop.

“Seven plus seven… first make a ten… and then there’s one, two, three… four…”

Miaomiao’s mouth was still mumbling, but his head tilted to the side, and his eyelids finally closed. He fell asleep just like that, clutching the little abacus.

Chi Xiao gently laid Miaomiao flat, took the abacus from his arms, and tucked the blanket snugly around him.

It was only nine o’clock, far from Chi Xiao’s usual bedtime. He pulled out his laptop from his bag, sat at the floating desk by the window, and began typing code with focused concentration.

Downstairs in the Villa.

Ming Can had found a spot as far as possible from the master bedroom in a straight line, set up her music stand, and began practicing the piece she was to perform at the concert.

In front of her was a floor-to-ceiling window, its glass reflecting her slender figure. Her bow-holding arm was slightly tense, its lines smooth yet powerful. As the bow glided across the strings, the clear, resonant sound of the violin filled the spacious room.

Even though she hadn’t practiced in a long time, as soon as she held the bow, Ming Can effortlessly regained her former touch.

She loved the violin.

But she also loved money, power, and the desire to become the family heir, to take control of the entire Ming family and create new wealth.

In theory, wielding power and pursuing art weren’t mutually exclusive.

Ming Can had once believed this too—until the day she was admitted to B University with a top-five score in the city. At the celebration banquet held in her honor, she accidentally overheard her grandfather and father discussing privately that girls studying finance was pointless. “Cancan plays the violin so well; she should go to a music conservatory and become a beautiful performer on stage in the future.”

Money matters, they said, should be left to the men.

That day, Ming Can suddenly realized that her mother was a painter, her aunt was an art professor, and her cousin was studying vocal music abroad. Meanwhile, the men in the family might have dabbled in the arts as children, but none of them made it their livelihood. After graduation, they all joined the family business, holding positions high and low.

Ming Can’s mind told her that there was nothing wrong with art, and certainly nothing wrong with the violin.

But her hands chose to put down the violin and the bow. When her elders asked her to perform at family gatherings, she politely declined, saying she had forgotten how to play.

This time, urged on by friends, she impulsively agreed to participate in the winter concert in a moment of passion.

Even now, Ming Can didn’t regret it.

But.

Once the concert was over.

She would likely put down this violin again, succumbing completely to the rebellion in her heart against the family and the gender inequality she had faced.

–

After playing for over thirty minutes, Ming Can’s shoulders began to ache. During a short break, she glanced up at the window and noticed that a warm yellow floor lamp had been turned on in the dark space behind her.

Turning around, she saw a tall, upright figure leaning against the bar, drinking water.

“Senior?” she asked, surprised. “When did you come down?”

Chi Xiao: “Just now.”

“Oh,” Ming Can said, stretching her shoulders. “I’m going to keep practicing.”

Chi Xiao: “Go ahead.”

His tone was indifferent, as if he didn’t care about her at all.

Ming Can shot him an annoyed glance. Besides the floor lamp, there was a faint glow next to Chi Xiao, coming from an open laptop on the bar.

“Are you planning to code here?”

“Mm,” Chi Xiao replied, lazily swinging his long legs over to sit on a barstool. “It’s too stuffy in the bedroom. This place is more spacious.”

“…” Ming Can was speechless, eyeing him suspiciously for a moment.

The bar wasn’t particularly close to where she was playing the violin. The two of them were in their own corners, so they wouldn’t disturb each other.

Ming Can believed that the music she played was far from noise—it might even stimulate brain flexibility. He was lucky to be hearing it.

Turning back, she picked up her violin and bow, pretending Chi Xiao wasn’t there, and continued to focus on playing.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, the night was dim. The unfamiliar resort, the skeletal shadows of trees, the cold snow, and the occasional dark figures passing by on the distant road created an eerie atmosphere.

Ming Can wasn’t a timid person, but when she had been standing there alone playing earlier, she couldn’t help but divide her attention, keeping an eye on any movement outside for safety.

Now, with the warm light from behind her casting a soft glow, she suddenly felt able to immerse herself fully in the music, no longer worrying about anything else, just playing her violin in peace.

Time passed slowly to the sound of the clear, melodious music.

After practicing for an hour and a half, Ming Can felt a bit tired. She packed up her things, ready to head upstairs, wash up, and go to bed.

As she passed by Chi Xiao, she caught a glimpse of the long string of flickering code on his computer screen. Unable to resist, she said coolly, “Senior, you’re making me feel lazy.”

Without a goodbye or a goodnight, she dropped this sarcastic remark, hugged her instrument and sheet music, and walked upstairs without looking back.

Chi Xiao propped his head up with one hand, his expression lazy and indifferent, as if he couldn’t be bothered to respond.

Back in her room, Ming Can played with her phone for a while and noticed it was almost eleven. They had to get up early tomorrow to take Miaomiao to his lesson. If Chi Xiao, this overachiever, was still downstairs coding, what if he couldn’t get up in time?

Thinking this, Ming Can walked to the bedroom door, intending to go downstairs and urge Chi Xiao to sleep.

As soon as she opened the door, she froze. The lights outside were all off, and everything was pitch black. When she had come up earlier, the lights had been on the whole way. How had it only been a few minutes?

Ming Can groped her way to the staircase and looked down. The first floor was also completely dark, not a single light on.

Had Chi Xiao already gone back?

So quickly.

Ming Can stared into the dark space, her thoughts wandering. As she turned back to her room, she couldn’t help but glance at the tightly closed door next to hers, her gaze lingering for a moment.