Chapter 13

When Zhong Yao and Jin Chuan arrived at the entrance of Yunshui Town, she still felt like she was dreaming. She couldn’t believe he was being this nice.

As she looked out the car window at her hometown, she asked tentatively, “I want to walk home from here. Do you want to come with me?”

To her surprise, Jin Chuan actually agreed. But—

He instantly put on a black cap, black sunglasses, and a black face mask, covering himself head to toe as if terrified of being recognized.

“Uhh…” Zhong Yao stared at him for a while, her expression complicated. Then she sighed. “Actually, forget it. You look way more suspicious like that. At this rate, the whole town will think I’m Jin Chuan’s secret love child before the sun even rises.”

She suddenly realized—maybe Jin Chuan had only come out of some weird sense of guilt. Deep down, he still wasn’t willing to acknowledge her mother. Otherwise, why go to such lengths to hide?

Not wanting to push him, Zhong Yao got out of the car and walked into Yunshui Town alone.

Her sudden mood shift caught Jin Chuan off guard. Watching her walk away, he wasn’t sure if he should follow or not.

Just then, his phone started blowing up.

“Jin Chuan??? Are you seriously in Yunshui Town?!!”
“Don’t tell me you actually flew there with Zhong Yao?! If anyone takes a photo, I swear I’m tearing up your contract!”
“Jin Chuan, my dear ancestor, keep yourself completely covered! I don’t care if it’s a remote village—don’t let your guard down. It’s 2019 already. Even pigs in China know how to get online and gossip!”
“You’ve got to be kidding me! Qi Cheng and I already had dinner plans! And now you drop this Yunshui bomb on me? Would it kill you to give me a heads-up?! I’m your agent, not your mom! What are you so afraid of? Huh???”

It was She Rui, finally reacting to the impulsive message he’d sent earlier—clearly fuming, already cursing up a storm.

Though her reaction was expected, Jin Chuan still felt a headache coming on as he scrolled through the avalanche of angry WeChat messages.

He sighed and turned to the driver. “Old Yang, just follow the kid from a distance, slowly.”

He massaged his temples, deciding not to get out of the car for now.

Coming here had already been a risk. As unpleasant as She Rui’s words were, every one of them was true. He and Zhong Wan had never married. Very few even knew about their relationship. By society’s standards, Zhong Yao was nothing more than an illegitimate child.

An illegitimate child of a famous actor—if that ever got out, the entertainment world had no shortage of blood-soaked cautionary tales.

The black business car trailed closely behind as Zhong Yao walked ahead, though her thoughts were no longer on Jin Chuan.

It was early morning, with a light mist still hanging in the air. The sky had just begun to brighten. All around her, the low white-walled, black-tiled houses exuded a sense of comforting familiarity. Her mind began to wander to Sun Shiwu.

It was Monday—the end of the long weekend—Aunt Liu had probably already woken Shiwu up by now. Was she still angry at her? What would she say when they met again? How should she explain, how should she apologize?

Zhong Yao’s heart was full of thoughts of her friend. She slowed her steps for a moment, then abruptly turned off the main road and entered a narrow alley too small for cars.

She and Shiwu had a secret base. Before going home, she wanted to stop by and take a look.

What she didn’t know was that Jin Chuan—whom she thought had only come out of guilt—had been quietly following her from a distance the whole time.

Twisting and turning through the narrow alleys, Zhong Yao finally arrived at a pond beside a yellow camphor tree—the place where she and Shiwu had officially become best friends.

She stood beneath the tree and took a photo with it, then sent a message to Sun Shiwu on QQ:

[Shiwu, I’m back. Please don’t be mad at me anymore, okay?]

She felt like she’d picked up a bad habit from Jin Chuan—trying to soften Shiwu’s heart by using their secret base as leverage.

Rustle—

Suddenly, there was a sound above her—leaves shifting. The next moment, a short-haired girl dropped down from the tree.

Sun Shiwu had appeared out of nowhere. The two girls stared at each other in stunned silence.

After a long pause, Sun Shiwu finally pursed her lips and said, “So you do remember how to come back? I thought you went off to Beijing and forgot all about this shabby little town.”

“I didn’t!” Zhong Yao stepped forward anxiously. “Shiwu, you saw the messages I sent, right? I missed you every single day.”

She reached out, wanting to hug her friend, but Shiwu smacked her hand away.

With red eyes, Sun Shiwu questioned her bitterly: “I must be really easy to fool, huh? Everyone knew you were leaving—even Tan Xiao knew. And I was the idiot who climbed over your wall trying to find you! Weren’t you the one who said you’d rather your dad be dead? So who was it that ended up ditching her friend for her dad?”

Zhong Yao was at a loss for words. All she could do was shake her head desperately. “No—it’s not like that, Shiwu, listen to me. I don’t like him at all, it was my mom who—”

“No need to explain,” Sun Shiwu cut her off coldly, then hurled a keychain at her chest. “Here. Take it back. From now on, we’re not friends anymore.”

The keychain was a gift Zhong Yao had given Shiwu the first year they became friends. It was a piece of Jin Chuan fan merchandise she had gone to great lengths to get.

For Shiwu to throw it back at her—she was truly done.

“Shiwu!”

Zhong Yao turned and tried to run after her—but the moment she turned around, she froze.

Jin Chuan was standing just a short distance away.

Did he hear everything?

Zhong Yao bit her lip and looked down, frozen in place, not daring to even glance in his direction. Just seeing him made her feel unbearably awkward.

Jin Chuan walked slowly toward her and asked, “So, you weren’t running off because you were mad at me—you just had plans to meet your friend?”

Zhong Yao quickly looked up at him—then just as quickly dropped her gaze, completely flustered.

What now? He really heard it all.

—

Zhong Yao didn’t know how to face Jin Chuan. She turned and ran home.

She wanted to explain things to Sun Shiwu again, but Aunt Liu told her Shiwu had already left for school.

Zhong Wan’s funeral was scheduled for 8:03 a.m. With no time left to explain to her friend, Zhong Yao headed for her mother’s memorial with heavy steps.

Jin Chuan had already arrived. He stood silently, his expression somber, lost in thought.

Zhong Yao wanted to apologize to him—but before she could, the pallbearers came. Hugging the memorial tablet, she followed in a daze, watching her mother’s coffin move farther and farther from home.

Overwhelmed by grief, she finally couldn’t hold back her tears.

And when the grave mound came into view, when she realized her mother would now rest here forever—Zhong Yao cried harder than she had on the day her mother died.

Jin Chuan followed behind her but didn’t even dare take off his mask.

There were too many unfamiliar people in the funeral procession. He didn’t dare risk exposure—not for his own sake, but for the girl’s. He figured Zhong Wan would understand.

As he watched her sob uncontrollably, clutching the memorial tablet, Jin Chuan tried to summon a clear image of the woman from his memory—but after more than ten years, her face had already blurred.

All he remembered was that when they parted, she had been resolute—and had never mentioned the child.

Maybe she hadn’t wanted to cause him trouble. In the end, though, she left him with the greatest trouble of all.

Shovel after shovel of yellow earth covered the coffin. A light rain began to fall. The only thing that remained unchanged was the woman’s gentle smile on the gravestone.

The funeral was coming to an end. Just as Jin Chuan was about to step forward to lead the girl away—

A woman suddenly stormed up beside him and slapped the black mask right off his face.

“She’s already in the ground, and you still don’t dare show her your face?!” she spat. “You call yourself a man? If you’re so high and mighty, why bother showing up to disgust everyone?”

Jin Chuan’s head was knocked sideways by the slap. He had never experienced anything like it—his mind went momentarily blank.

The woman seemed to hate him deeply. She viciously stomped on his mask, then reached out to grab him.
“I want to see just what kind of big-shot you are—making a widow and orphan wait fourteen years, and still not daring to show your face at the funeral!”

Amid the tussle, Jin Chuan came face-to-face with her.

The woman froze, her mouth gaping as she stammered, “Y-you… aren’t you that guy from TV—?”

Jin Chuan snapped back to his senses and subtly turned his face away from her gaze.

At that moment, Sun Liuniang finally noticed the commotion and came over from Zhong Yao’s side, pulling the woman away.
“Ah Fen, what are you doing? Wan already told us—this was her own choice. Don’t be like this.”

Sun Liuniang had known about Jin Chuan’s existence ever since Zhong Yao’s school transfer.

With a soft sigh, she said to him, “Maybe you should go wait in the car.”

Jin Chuan gave her a small nod, but instead of leaving right away, he first went over and half-guided, half-carried Zhong Yao away from the crowd.

The woman just now had clearly recognized him. If he didn’t want to be exposed, they needed to leave quickly—and naturally, the girl couldn’t stay much longer either.

Zhong Yao, too, had heard the argument.

The words Aunt Fen shouted were exactly what she had been holding inside. The loss of her mother and her father’s cold indifference made her grief even heavier, and she had cried all the way back.

By the time Jin Chuan finally got her inside, he felt like he had exhausted every last ounce of energy.

But none of it was the child’s fault, so he crouched down patiently and said,
“Zhong Yao, I know you’re really upset right now, but we have to go, okay?”

The girl stared at him, her sobs gradually softening.

Jin Chuan continued,
“Something happened just now—someone recognized me. If my identity gets out, we could both be in a lot of trouble. Don’t cry anymore, alright? I’ll come back with you next time to visit your mom and your friends. I promise.”

Zhong Yao suddenly stopped crying, her expression shifting to quiet disappointment.

On the day of her mother’s burial, Jin Chuan had shown up, yes—but all he seemed to care about was avoiding being recognized. He hadn’t even shed a single tear for her mom.

She pried his hand off hers and said, clearly and firmly,
“No need. I’m not going.”

She wiped her tears and drove the point in deeper:
“You don’t need to come here again out of guilt. I can do just fine on my own. Neither me nor my mom ever needed you. If she hadn’t asked me to find you before she died, I wouldn’t have gone to Beijing at all.”

“I don’t like Beijing, and I don’t like you. I want to stay here with Mom, with Aunt Liu and Shiwu.”
By the end, her words were resolute.

Jin Chuan was hit by a wave of defeat.

He looked into the girl’s determined eyes and felt his body stiffen. He remembered what her friend had said: that she would rather her father were dead.

He had thought that maybe the girl depended on him a little—why else would she wait for him in the garden on Mid-Autumn Festival? But now it seemed he’d been overthinking it. Maybe the mooncakes had been meant for her mother all along.

From the alley came sudden noise. Jin Chuan vaguely heard the words “TV drama.” He knew it was time to make a decision.

After a moment of silence, he turned and left without hesitation.

“I respect your choice.”
Those were the last words he left behind.

He walked away cleanly, without even asking why.

Zhong Yao crouched down, hugging her knees. She had gotten the outcome she wanted—but inside, an unbearable sting of regret was already rising.

“Zhong Yao! What are you standing there for?”
To her surprise, Sun Shiwu came running down from upstairs in her house and grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the door.
“Hurry! Go after him—that was Jin Chuan!”

Zhong Yao was stunned.
“Shi–Shiwu? What are you doing in my house? Just now, you…”

She bit her lip and lowered her head, disheartened.
“So you know everything, don’t you?”

“I do,” Shiwu let go of her.
“I know now that your dad is my favorite actor—Jin Chuan.”

Her tone was calm—none of the sharpness from earlier that morning remained.

Zhong Yao looked at her, puzzled.
“You’re not mad? I left without saying goodbye, and I hid the truth about Jin Chuan…”

“Mad? Of course I’m mad!”
Shiwu crouched down beside her.
“My best friend stole the dad I’ve always dreamed of having. That’s betrayal on two levels. Honestly, I should’ve fainted from rage.”

“Then why…”

Suddenly, Shiwu threw her arms around her.
“But what can I do? I love you both. Actually, I stopped being mad a long time ago. I thought, if I suddenly heard news about my dad, I’d go find him too. But I missed you so much. I wanted to see you again. So I deliberately ignored your messages, thinking you’d be scared I was still mad and eventually come explain things to me. That’s why… I went to our secret base every day to wait for you…”

At that point, her voice broke. She couldn’t say another word.

Zhong Yao’s nose stung. The tears she had just managed to hold back began falling again.

She wrapped her arms tightly around Sun Shiwu and sobbed,
“I’m sorry, Shiwu. I missed you too. I missed you every day. I’m staying now. I’m not leaving again, okay?”

“No,” Shiwu wiped her tears and held her arms tightly.
“If you stay, Jin Chuan will be sad. And honestly, I know you want a dad, too.”

“I don’t,” Zhong Yao turned her face away.
“Stop liking Jin Chuan. He’s not that great. He came to my mom’s funeral and didn’t even take off his mask. I’m just a burden to him.”

“No, no, that’s not it at all!”
Shiwu immediately defended him.
“Didn’t you forget that day when we were gossiping about his rumored illegitimate child? That poor boy got absolutely trashed online. I don’t think your dad’s that kind of person. He probably just wants to protect you. Think about it—if someone took a photo of the two of you here, how would you go back to school? Aunt Wan wanted you to get into a good university. You wouldn’t want to be chased around by gossip reporters every day, would you?”

She spoke with logic and sincerity, and Zhong Yao listened with her lips pressed together.

Now that her emotions had calmed a little, she had to admit—Jin Chuan wasn’t as terrible as she had thought. After all, he had overheard her say she’d rather he were dead, and he hadn’t said a word about it. She hadn’t even had the chance to apologize to him yet. And just now, she had cruelly driven him away.

To say she didn’t regret it—not even a little—would be a lie.

“But…” Zhong Yao said gloomily, “Jin Chuan already left. He probably doesn’t like me either. Finally got rid of a big burden—he’s probably even happy about it.”

“Yaoyao,” Sun Shiwu pulled her up and hugged her tightly again, “you have no idea how much I envy you. If my mom weren’t still here, I’d want to go to Beijing with you. Aunt Wan loved you the most. She told you to find Jin Chuan—there must be a reason you haven’t discovered yet, right? I’ll video call you every day. Can’t you just try to understand Jin Chuan, for my sake?”

Zhong Yao didn’t respond, only hugged her tighter.

Sun Shiwu was usually fearless and strong, but today, she cried even more than Zhong Yao. Finally, she said, “Yaoyao, don’t let yourself regret this. If you catch up to Jin Chuan, go with him. But if he really just walks away like that… then let’s never be apart again, okay?”

Zhong Yao silently embraced her friend. Sun Shiwu didn’t try to persuade her any further—she simply waited for her to figure it out on her own.

Suddenly, Zhong Yao let go, kissed her on the cheek, and said:

“Wait for me!” The girl left behind just those three words before turning and sprinting away.

Sun Shiwu watched her friend’s back disappear into the distance, not knowing what answer to hope for. If Jin Chuan really was the person she believed him to be—then maybe… she and her best friend would truly have to part ways.

The rain grew heavier. Zhong Yao didn’t carry an umbrella. She chased forward step by step, rain and wind soaking her.

There was no time to wonder whether Jin Chuan would still be waiting. She only wanted one thing: to say sorry.

She ran and ran but didn’t see him anywhere. She dashed over the slick stone path to the town’s entrance, drenched by splashes of water, her eyes darting around—yet she couldn’t find the person she was looking for.

She didn’t know how long she waited in the rain, but Jin Chuan never appeared. Squatting by the roadside, she felt her heart sink. Maybe, she thought, Shiwu really overestimated him.

A lofty celebrity like Jin Chuan—how could he still be waiting for a middle school kid after being scolded like that?

She bit her lip, letting the wind and rain lash her.

Just when she was about to give up, the drizzling rain above her suddenly stopped. She looked up to see a tall, handsome man holding a black umbrella over her.

Jin Chuan looked resigned as he said, “A little rascal like you who doesn’t even bring an umbrella in the rain—of course I can’t leave you here on your own.”