Chapter 20

Jin Chuan hadn’t expected to be gone for ten days.

In the entertainment industry, flying around the world for promotions was normal—especially since he had just won Best Actor at Cannes and his film had just been released. He should’ve been busier than ever. But now that there was a young girl living in his home, he had to be more mindful.

He had already turned down numerous engagements during their two weeks in Beijing. After all, Zhong Yao had just moved in, and he needed to help her adjust.

This time, he’d flown to Shanghai with the director of The Mountains, Liang Hao. The plan was to return to Beijing right after the event, but Liang Hao pitched him a new film project. Then Jin Chuan took on a last-minute appearance as a favor, and one thing led to another—his stay kept getting extended.

Still, Jin Chuan could sense the kid’s growing displeasure.

In the following days, Zhong Yao’s messages became increasingly sparse—just the occasional “mm” to confirm she was safe. Being so far away and overwhelmed with work, Jin Chuan didn’t know how to comfort her, so he simply accelerated his schedule.

On the tenth day, he insisted on leaving—skipping dinner and heading straight to the airport. No one could stop him.

He felt that if he didn’t get back soon, there’d be no making it up to the girl.

But what he didn’t expect—

Was that after rushing all the way home, Zhong Yao wouldn’t even be there.

It was 11 p.m. on a Saturday night, and the 14-year-old newcomer to the city was missing from home. Who wouldn’t panic?

Jin Chuan, to his credit, remained calm. His first thought was that perhaps Zhong Yao had learned he’d be back tonight and was intentionally giving him the cold shoulder.

So he called her phone—but it rang from her pink bedroom upstairs.

She hadn’t even taken her phone.

The situation was likely worse than he thought.

Frowning, Jin Chuan grabbed his car keys while dialing She Rui’s number.

Back in a flash, and out the door again in seconds—but as soon as he started the car, he realized: he had no idea where to look.

School? The mall? The train station?

He didn’t have a clue.

Exhausted from consecutive days of work and travel, stress bubbled up inside as he gripped the steering wheel, his frustration mounting.

“You’re back?”

At that moment, She Rui finally answered. “You could’ve just texted. What’s with the dramatic phone call?”

“She Rui,” Jin Chuan’s voice sounded strained, “Zhong Yao’s missing. Can you ask the kids what’s going on?”

There was a beat of silence.

Then She Rui sounded even more anxious than he was. “Don’t do anything rash! Wait for my call!”

She hung up in a rush after that single warning.

Jin Chuan turned off the engine and leaned back heavily against the seat.

He realized it had been a long time since he’d felt this drained, even with the usual grind of showbiz.

He didn’t know how many people She Rui had to contact, but it took nearly half an hour before she called again.

Jin Chuan, by then, was already aimlessly driving around nearby.

“Stop worrying. The brats are all at school,” She Rui said, relief audible in her voice. “Apparently someone erased your little girl’s blackboard design on purpose, so a bunch of them sneaked back to fix it. I got Tang Yiming on a video call—he’s telling the truth.”

She paused, her tone relaxing a little, then added teasingly, “So, what now? Going to storm the school and drag them home?”

Jin Chuan didn’t respond right away.

He pulled over to the side of the road, took out a cigarette, and lit it—lost in thought as he smoked.

She Rui didn’t speak either. She just waited quietly on the other end of the line.

In the dim night, the flickering glow of the cigarette burned halfway down.

With a soft sigh, the man finally spoke: “Forget it. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.”

“That’s probably for the best,” She Rui exhaled in relief, chuckling lightly. “Your little girl’s got some serious charm—even Qi Yu showed up to help.”

But Jin Chuan didn’t laugh like he usually would. Instead, he paused for a moment, then earnestly said, in a tone he hadn’t used in ages, “Thanks.”

–

Jin Chuan didn’t bother asking how long the kids planned to stay at school.

He put on an old movie DVD and sat down on the couch to wait.

He hadn’t expected the girl to last this long. It wasn’t until the next morning that she finally returned home.

Zhong Yao, who took after her mother’s fair complexion, now had dark circles under her eyes that almost rivaled his own after ten straight days of work.

The girl trudged forward with her head down, swaying with fatigue. Her footsteps were unsteady, almost like she was drunk.

She looked utterly pitiful—but Jin Chuan still kept a stern face as he asked, “I’ve only been gone ten days, and you’ve already learned how to stay out all night?”

Zhong Yao, caught completely off guard by his sudden return—let alone by getting busted the moment she walked in—was instantly jolted awake. A wave of inexplicable guilt washed over her.

Faced with his questioning, she could have explained herself, but in her sleepy, agitated state, she found herself getting irritated too.

Zhong Yao thought about how the man had been gone so long without even offering an apology. All he did was wire her money. Feeling resentful, she shot back with false bravado, “Who was the one who stayed out all night first? You’ve been gone for so many days—what right do you have to lecture me?”

After a night to cool down, Jin Chuan had originally planned to just give her a light scolding—to make sure she understood how dangerous it was, and leave it at that.

But seeing her so defiant, his tone grew sharper. “I’m thirty-five years old. I can take care of myself. Are you even fifteen yet? Not only are you staying out all night, but now you’re talking back, too?”

It was the first time he’d spoken to her in such a harsh tone. Zhong Yao, filled with grievance, didn’t want to argue with him but couldn’t just let it go either.

Biting her lip, she turned and started up the stairs. “Say whatever you want. I’m going to sleep.”

“Stop right there.”

Jin Chuan finally stood and called out to her, adopting the stern tone he’d intended from the start. “Zhong Yao, it’s one thing if you don’t show me basic respect, but today you must promise me this: until you’re an adult, no matter who you’re with or what the reason is, you are never to stay out all night again.”

He hadn’t even asked for an explanation before scolding her.

Zhong Yao paused mid-step, temper rising.

She turned back and said, word for word, “I was wrong to stay out all night—but you are the last person qualified to scold me for being disrespectful!”

Fuming, she stormed up the stairs and slammed her door louder than ever before.

Jin Chuan stood frozen for a moment. Then he rubbed his temples and slowly returned to the couch.

He had planned to give her a serious talk—but not like that. He’d once been a student too; he understood the kind of naive but passionate stubbornness that came with being young. Still, he felt it was necessary to explain just how dangerous it was for a girl her age to stay out overnight, and how wrong it was.

He’d had it all mapped out: a stern lecture followed by a gentle reward. But in practice, it had turned out far harder than expected.

He’d thought about how to comfort her if she got upset—but he hadn’t anticipated that she’d throw that line at him: “You are the last person qualified to scold me.”

It was clear. She was accusing him of his fourteen-year absence. She blamed him. She resented him.

And Jin Chuan suddenly realized there were things he’d been ignoring.

For example, no matter what had happened between him and Zhong Wan, in the eyes of the child, he was the father who had been absent for years. The irresponsible one.

No wonder she didn’t like him.

Jin Chuan closed his eyes. A thought crossed his mind: in all these years, how had someone as gentle and mild as Zhong Wan managed to handle everything the child threw at her?

–

When Zhong Yao woke again, the sky outside was glowing red—just like the fiery dawn she’d seen that morning through the classroom window. For a moment, she couldn’t even tell what time it was.

She checked the clock and realized it was already evening.

Sitting on her princess-style bed, Zhong Yao fell into a daze.

She remembered the argument with Jin Chuan before she slept—and suddenly felt a bit regretful.

Her mother had told her not to come home too late. The blackboard project was important, yes, but maybe she had made a mistake. So why had she been so stubborn about not admitting it this morning?

Deep down, she knew: even if Jin Chuan had been an absent father, he didn’t seem like the kind of person who wouldn’t understand why she’d gone back to fix the board.

And yet, not only had she refused to apologize, she’d blurted out what she had kept hidden inside—blaming him for being absent all these years.

Now she didn’t know how to face him.

Barefoot, Zhong Yao walked over to the window seat and leaned out to look down at the garden—but Jin Chuan wasn’t there.

She hadn’t wanted to argue with him—just like at the funeral, and again today—but things always seemed to go in the opposite direction.

It didn’t feel right. And having to apologize after every fight felt kind of humiliating.

Zhong Yao just wanted to avoid it all. She considered pretending she was still asleep, skipping dinner, and waiting until tomorrow to figure it out.

But then she remembered what her mother used to say: the worst kind of person is the one who knows they’re wrong and refuses to change.

So she couldn’t rest easy.

As night fell, she finally mustered her courage and went downstairs.

But Jin Chuan wasn’t in the living room. What she did find was a small cake on the coffee table—layered and delicate, topped with a circle of strawberries. It looked a bit like the red velvet cake she’d bought him before, but larger and more refined.

Beside the cake were four dolls: one StellaLou, two Mickeys, and one Donald Duck.

Zhong Yao stood frozen.

She suddenly remembered Jin Chuan had gone to Shanghai. So… were these Disney souvenirs from his trip?

And the cake? Was he copying her previous apology tactic?

But she was the one in the wrong. Why would he be apologizing? Was it for breaking his promise last time?

Zhong Yao was filled with questions—and with guilt.

She realized she might’ve been unfair to Jin Chuan yesterday.

Staring at the cake and dolls, lips pressed into a line, she suddenly turned and ran upstairs again.

She peeked into the study, the gym, the media room… even Jin Chuan’s bedroom—but he wasn’t in any of them.

She wandered through the garden but still found no trace of him.

Left with no choice, she pulled out her phone and sent him a message:

[I’m sorry. It was my fault.]

She hadn’t figured out what else to say yet when suddenly, she heard the front door open.

Walking into the living room, she saw Jin Chuan stepping inside, carrying plastic grocery bags. At the same moment, his phone chimed in his pocket.

The man raised an eyebrow and asked, “What exactly are you sorry for?”

Zhong Yao looked down, shuffling her feet. “Well… for not admitting I was wrong. And for arguing with you.”

Jin Chuan stepped closer, arms crossed, eyes fixed on her. “Think harder.”

“…?”

Zhong Yao blinked, confused. “I think that’s all of it?”

“Tsk.” Jin Chuan gave her a long look and said, almost lazily, “The worst part was staying out all night.”

Zhong Yao finally remembered to explain: “Actually, I didn’t mean to. Remember that day you made steak? I told you I was in the school’s 70th anniversary event…”

“Mm,” Jin Chuan responded blandly.

Zhong Yao continued explaining, “I didn’t actually perform in the celebration—I signed up to do the blackboard display. But the night before the evaluation, someone vandalized it.”

“So you stayed out all night to go back to school and fix it?” Jin Chuan asked in return.

Zhong Yao nodded.

He pressed on, “And what if something had happened to you while you were out? What’s more important—your safety or a blackboard display?”

Zhong Yao really wanted to say, But I’m fine, aren’t I? But when she looked up and met the seriousness in his eyes, the words stuck in her throat.

“I was wrong,” she mumbled again, admitting fault.

But Jin Chuan wasn’t finished: “Will you do it again?”

She obediently shook her head.

“Good.” He suddenly reached out and ruffled her hair. “Go wash your hands. I’m making steak tonight.”

Zhong Yao froze for a moment.

So, he hadn’t gone out earlier because he was mad at her—he’d gone to buy steak?

A sudden wave of relief washed over her. She was so glad she’d gathered the courage to apologize after all.

As night fell, the streetlamps outside began lighting up one by one.

Seated at the dining table, Zhong Yao received a message from Qi Yu:

[Zhong Yao, Tang Yiming won an award for his crosstalk act today and is treating everyone to milk tea. He asked if you want to come?]

[He says the place is pretty close to your house.]

Strictly speaking, after Qi Yu and Tang Yiming stayed up with her all night helping fix the board, she should be the one buying them milk tea.

But she glanced toward the kitchen, where Jin Chuan was busy cooking steaks, and pressed her lips together before replying:

[Sorry, it’s getting a bit late. My mom says girls shouldn’t go out and hang around at night.]