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Chapter 9
Outside the venue, a massive crowd of fans had gathered, creating a deafening noise.
Shang Zhiyi found a conspicuous spot and stood there, sending her location to Jiang Sixun. It would take him a few minutes to walk over from the parking lot.
As the concert’s start time approached, waves of people surged toward the entrance. The sight overwhelmed her, so she stopped scanning the crowd and focused on her phone instead.
“Zhiyi.” Amid the clamor, a deep voice called her name.
Shang Zhiyi lifted her head and searched around before spotting him. He was wearing a black shirt today, making him less noticeable in the crowd.
Luna had said he rarely wore black or white shirts, no more than five times in total. Today just happened to be one of those rare times.
There were too many people between them, shoulder to shoulder, making it impossible to get through.
Jiang Sixun gestured toward the southeast corner, signaling for her to meet him there.
Understanding his cue, Shang Zhiyi turned and headed in that direction.
After making her way through the crowd, they finally met.
“Let me see your ticket,” Jiang Sixun extended his hand.
Shang Zhiyi thought he just wanted to look, so she took it out of her bag and handed it to him.
“Mr. Jiang, are you here alone for the concert?”
“No, I’m with Xu Ningwei and your brother,” Jiang Sixun replied as he handed her his own ticket. “Switch seats with me. I haven’t experienced the outdoor area yet. After the concert, don’t rush to leave. You can go backstage and take a picture with your idol.”
When Shang Zhiyi saw the seat number, it was in the central control area for VIP guests. Without thinking, she immediately tried to return the ticket.
This favor felt too heavy. She couldn’t accept it comfortably.
“Mr. Jiang, I—”
Before she could finish, Jiang Sixun interrupted, “It’s just one ticket, no need to overthink it. I’ve listened to her concert over ten times, so whether I’m inside or outside makes no difference to me. Your brother Xu Heng is there too. You can meet up, and he’ll take you for the photo.”
He told her where to enter, then took her stadium ticket and lined up to go through security.
Determined not to switch back, he left her no choice but to let him keep it.
Shang Zhiyi watched his broad figure. It was probably the first time in his life that he had to stand in a long line, waiting to enter the venue.
In the central control area, Shang Zhiyi spotted Xu Ningwei. Her makeup was flawless, and the long, flowing gown she wore looked expensive just from the fabric. Xu Ningwei was tilting her head, chatting with someone beside her, animatedly laughing at something. When she turned and saw Shang Zhiyi, she didn’t even have time to suppress her smile.
This was the third time Xu Ningwei had seen Shang Zhiyi. She hadn’t examined her closely before, but now, with the two standing so near, she saw her features clearly.
Shang Zhiyi had a delicate oval face with striking, sculpted features. Her almond-shaped eyes were bright and clear, with slightly upturned corners, and there was a hint of coolness in her expression.
As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Xu Ningwei had to acknowledge that Shang Zhiyi looked very much like her mother.
The conversation beside her suddenly ceased. Xu Heng glanced over and followed Xu Ningwei’s gaze, landing on the younger sister he had never met.
“I called, but you didn’t pick up.” He stood from his seat as he spoke.
Shang Zhiyi quickly checked her phone, finding a missed call. Apologetically, she said, “It was too loud, I didn’t hear it.”
“It’s fine.” For their first meeting, he gave her a polite hug before quickly stepping back.
The hug helped ease the tension, and Shang Zhiyi felt less stiff than before.
There was an empty seat next to Xu Heng, so she sat down.
Like attracts like. Xu Heng’s demeanor was similar to Jiang Sixun’s, though with one key difference: while Jiang Sixun exuded a casual, almost sensual charm mixed with a cold aloofness—perhaps due to his shirt—her brother’s aura was the same as He Yian’s, heavy and cool.
Once seated, Shang Zhiyi pulled out her glasses from her bag. The moment she put them on, everything became clearer.
She turned to look back, but the stadium seating was too far from where she was now. The sea of people was so vast, she couldn’t pick Jiang Sixun out. She sent him a message asking if he had entered.
Jiang Sixun replied quickly: [I’m in.]
Then he sent another message: [Enjoy the concert.]
[Mr. Jiang, once I get paid, I’ll treat you to a meal.] she wrote.
Jiang Sixun replied with just one word: [Okay.]
“Zhiyi, add me on WeChat.” Xu Heng handed his phone to his sister, glancing at the glasses now perched on her nose. “You’re nearsighted?”
“Mm.”
Xu Heng casually started a conversation: “Do you like F1?”
Shang Zhiyi turned her head sharply, her eyes full of surprise—how did he know?
Xu Heng explained, “Jiang Sixun shared your social media accounts with me. I saw your photos from the F1 Grand Prix.” He casually asked, “So, do you prefer McLaren or Ferrari?”
Shang Zhiyi smiled faintly. “I like both.”
After they added each other as friends, Xu Heng updated her contact info and said, “In that case, I’ll send you one of each. Custom cars take a bit longer.”
“…”
She never expected their conversation to take such a turn.
Two custom cars were worth a fortune to her. Shang Zhiyi was alarmed and refused without hesitation: “I just like them; I can’t drive them, so it would be a waste to give them to me. I appreciate the gesture, but please don’t.”
Xu Heng didn’t respond to her refusal. “I’ve added you to the family group chat.”
The thought of Xu Ningwei being in the family group made Shang Zhiyi instinctively resist joining. Before she could say anything, she was already added.
She opened the group chat and saw it was a group of four.
Xu Heng had created a new family group, just for their immediate family of four, renaming it “Family (Zhiyi)” to distinguish it from the other family group that included Xu Ningwei.
The noise in the venue was overwhelming, and Xu Ningwei, leaning closer to her brother to talk, caught sight of the glaring group name on Shang Zhiyi’s phone screen. The words she had been about to say evaporated, and she sat silently, trying to maintain her composure.
When the paternity test results came out, her parents decided to switch her back with Shang Zhiyi. She couldn’t handle the sudden change and overwhelming shock, breaking down and asking He Yian if she could stay with them a little longer, unwilling to leave.
He Yian, heartbroken for her, agreed.
Even today’s family dinner hadn’t included Shang Zhiyi; she was still the center of the family’s attention.
During shopping trips, her brother bought everything she liked, just like before.
It seemed like nothing had changed.
But tonight’s concert, where Jiang Sixun gave Shang Zhiyi a VIP ticket and her brother created a new family group, reminded her that everything was different now.
The concert lasted nearly three hours, with the crowd being extremely enthusiastic. Yet, Xu Ningwei couldn’t remember a single song she had heard.
It was her idol’s live performance, and she couldn’t waste the ticket. She tried several times to temporarily forget Shang Zhiyi’s presence, but it was futile.
As the concert ended, with the audience still buzzing, Xu Heng took them backstage.
Throughout the concert and the photo session, the two sisters hadn’t exchanged a single word or even made eye contact.
After leaving the venue, Shang Zhiyi saw Jiang Sixun’s car by the roadside.
Jiang Sixun saw her too and sent a message: [Come straight to me; I’ll drive you home.]
At that moment, Xu Heng said to her, “I’ll give you a ride.”
Shang Zhiyi first thanked him, “No need, I’ll take Jiang Sixun’s offer.”
“Alright,” Xu Heng said, adding, “We’ll have dinner together when you’re back from London.”
“Sure.” Shang Zhiyi waved goodbye and quickly walked toward Jiang Sixun, even jogging a few steps as she reached the car.
Jiang Sixun was sitting in the backseat, his hand casually resting outside the car. “Take your time; no rush.”
“Mr. Jiang, have you been out here long?”
“Half an hour earlier than you.”
Shang Zhiyi closed the door after sitting inside, feeling guilty that he had given her the best seat and waited to drive her home. “If there’s any work I can help with in the future, please let me know.”
Jiang Sixun eased her anxiety. “Sure.”
“Did you get a photo?” he asked.
“Yes, we took a lot of pictures.”
Shang Zhiyi unlocked her phone and showed him one of the photos. “It’s my first time seeing my idol so up close.”
After a concert, people often experience a kind of euphoria, leading to a strong desire to share. She eagerly shared, “I became a fan in sixth grade, right when a new album was released.”
“So early?”
“Yeah. I missed home while boarding, so my brother bought me the album to listen to.” She then asked Jiang Sixun, “What about you? When did you start liking them?”
Jiang Sixun replied, “A year earlier than you.”
“What’s your favorite…” song?
Her voice trailed off as she suddenly remembered that he was her boss.
Jiang Sixun returned her phone. “Why did you stop?”
Shang Zhiyi hesitated. “…I may have asked too much.”
She silently took back her phone.
Jiang Sixun smiled. “It’s fine.” Noticing her silence, he started talking about Qi Zhengchen.
Just half an hour ago, he had received a call from Qi Zhengchen right after leaving the concert. Qi Zhengchen asked if he knew a Shang Zhiyi who was an intern at the company.
“I know. Xu’s daughter.”
Qi Zhengchen responded: Take extra care of her.
Shang Zhiyi was surprised. “Does my brother have a good relationship with you?”
Jiang Sixun nodded. “Yeah, we played together since we were kids. He mentioned you before.” However, he hadn’t remembered Shang Zhiyi’s name at the time and had forgotten it afterward.
He had moved to Shanghai for high school and later studied abroad. During that period, he didn’t see Qi Zhengchen much except for the winter and summer breaks when they played basketball together. But their childhood bond remained strong.
Shang Zhiyi said, “When my brother finishes his project and comes over, I’ll treat you all to a meal.”
Jiang Sixun smiled slowly. “You haven’t been paid yet; you already owe me two dinners for tonight.”
Shang Zhiyi was speechless.
Jiang Sixun’s phone buzzed with a message from Xu Heng: [Are you still coming over for a late-night snack? If so, bring Zhiyi along.]
Jiang Sixun replied: [It’s too late tonight. Maybe next time.]
Xu Heng saw the message and asked Xu Ningwei, “Jiang Sixun isn’t coming over. How about you?”
Xu Ningwei, too upset to eat or drink, shook her head.
After a moment, she complained, “Brother, you’re biased.”
Xu Heng helplessly smiled. “How am I biased?”
Xu Ningwei didn’t respond.
After a pause, she said, “You’re just biased.”
Xu Heng said, “I haven’t even started being biased. If I did, it wouldn’t be like this.”
Xu Ningwei felt an unexplained anxiety and looked at her brother. “So, will you be biased?”
Xu Heng replied calmly, “Based on how well you know me, do you think I will or won’t be?”
Xu Ningwei opened her mouth but said nothing more.
Back at home, her parents were still awake, watching a movie while waiting for them.
He Yian asked with a smile, “How was the atmosphere at the concert?”
“It was okay,” Xu Ningwei replied, struggling to smile. “Mom, I’m going to change into something more comfortable.”
Noticing her daughter’s downcast mood, He Yian watched her go upstairs and then asked her son, “You were so cheerful when you left. What happened?”
Xu Heng answered bluntly, “She said I’m biased towards Zhiyi.”
He Yian, always perceptive, asked, “Is it because you created a new family group chat?”
Xu Heng thought for a moment. “That might be part of the reason. Zhiyi was at the concert tonight, too.”
Xu Xiangyi paused the movie he hadn’t finished and interjected, “Zhiyi went to the concert too? No wonder she didn’t answer her phone. Why didn’t you mention this before?”
Xu Heng replied, “I ran into her on the way, and Jiang Sixun gave her a ticket.”
He warned his parents to be prepared: “With their personalities, it’s going to be difficult for them to live under the same roof.”
He Yian was well aware of this, so she had never considered it.
She suddenly remembered, “Didn’t they say that guests could take photos with the singer? Did Zhiyi get a photo?”
“She did,” Xu Heng said, showing her the pictures on his phone.
“Send me a few,” He Yian requested.
Xu Heng selected two photos and sent them to his mother. “You should rest early. I’m going back to my place.”
He Yian opened the photos. In one, her daughter wore a simple black French floral dress. It reminded her of a phone call with Xiao Meihua that night, and the more she thought about it, the more unsettled she felt.
“Xiao Meihua didn’t even get Zhiyi a dress for her twentieth birthday.”
Xu Xiangyi wasn’t particularly concerned about the dress. “We’ll have more made for her every year.” The priority now was to discuss with a lawyer which assets should be put in Zhiyi’s name.
He Yian saved the photos and said, “I’ll return to the country after having dinner with Zhiyi.” She also arranged for an interior designer to design a room for Zhiyi, planning to rearrange the furniture in the house. With time running short before August, she didn’t have much time left in Manhattan.
Soon after her son left, her adopted daughter came downstairs.
Xu Ningwei had changed out of her elaborate dress into comfortable loungewear. Even after trying to adjust herself in her room, she still felt a deep, unspoken discomfort. In the past, whenever she was upset, her mother would come to her room, ask what was wrong, and comfort her, but this time, it didn’t happen.
“Mom, I want Italian food for lunch tomorrow, the same place as last time.” She turned to her father, “Dad, you come too.”
Tomorrow’s dinner with Zhiyi conflicted with this plan.
Xu Xiangyi replied, “Tomorrow isn’t possible; I’ve already promised to have dinner with Zhiyi. We can go another day.”
Xu Ningwei felt a sharp pain in her heart, as if a piece had been cut out, spreading throughout her body.
This was the first time her parents had put her request second.
She responded slowly, nodding, “Okay, you go with Zhiyi first.” Then she lay down on He Yian’s lap, saying nothing.
He Yian sighed inwardly and gently patted her adopted daughter’s head.
Xu Ningwei hugged her mother tightly. “I’m fine.”
This morning, He Yian had told her that they would bring Zhiyi back in August. Though it was painful, she had harbored some hope that maybe over time, the guilt of having wronged Zhiyi would fade, and her parents might not want to bring Zhiyi back since there was no emotional connection.
But everything that happened at the concert tonight and her brother’s words on the way back shattered her illusions.
Fortunately, she had twenty years of affection from her parents, something Zhiyi couldn’t compare to. From now on, she couldn’t squander this affection and had to learn to be a more reserved and obedient daughter.
After clinging to her mother for a while, Xu Ningwei sat up, took out a card from her loungewear pocket. It was an unlimited black card her father had given her when she was fourteen. Since Zhiyi refused to accept anything, she couldn’t be outdone.
“Dad, here’s the card. I can’t spend your money so freely anymore.”
She bent down and placed the card on the coffee table in front of them.
She anxiously awaited her father’s response.
Xu Xiangyi glanced at the card and nodded slightly.
He didn’t say a word, leaving the card behind.
Xu Ningwei felt as though she had fallen into an icy pit, chilled from head to toe, her heart trembling as she forced herself to sit back on the sofa.
What about Mom?
What would Mom say?
He Yian’s attention was not on the card at all; she was leaning with her forehead supported, replaying the conversations she had with Zhiyi’s teachers earlier that day.
“Goodnight, Mom and Dad.” Xu Ningwei wanted to go back to her room to calm down.
He Yian smiled gently. “Goodnight. Get some rest.”
Xu Ningwei reluctantly stayed in her mother’s embrace for another two minutes.
After she went upstairs, the living room quieted down.
Xu Xiangyi moved closer to his wife. “Are you tired? Ready to go to bed?”
“Not tired,” she replied, though exhausted in a way she had never been before.
She had spent over two hours talking to Zhiyi’s teachers. Though Zhiyi had graduated years ago, the teachers still had strong impressions of her.
The elementary school’s life teacher said she remembered Zhiyi well because she was one of only two students who boarded in the entire elementary section. One teacher was responsible for both of them, and Zhiyi often cried alone when she first boarded, asking if she missed home and if she wanted to call her parents. Zhiyi would remain silent and shake her head after a long time.
Perhaps she felt calling was useless, fearing she might be scolded for being childish.
Later, she quietly said, “I miss my second brother. Can I call him?”
She was ten and a half years old at the time.
The middle school homeroom teacher said she had never seen such a diligent student, someone who focused solely on studies every day with a level of self-discipline that even the teacher admired. The teacher had even advised against skipping a grade, as Zhiyi was too young and might not fit in with her classmates, which could be detrimental to her development.
The homeroom teacher once asked her, “Zhiyi, why are you in such a hurry?”
Zhiyi took a long time to express her feelings: She wanted to graduate early to save a year’s worth of expenses.
Because tuition fees were so high, she felt guilty spending her parents’ money.
She also hoped that her mother would be proud of her for skipping a grade.
Xu Xiangyi noticed his wife was distracted and squeezed her hand. “Don’t think about it anymore.”
How could she not think about it?
Zhiyi’s current personality was a result of feeling insecure while boarding school due to her young age.
Xu Xiangyi asked, “Where should we take Zhiyi to eat tomorrow?”
No place could match the deliciousness of their home chef’s cooking. He Yian was silent for a moment, recalling the night before in the rental apartment when Zhiyi had carefully called her “Mom.” The subtle, piercing pain from that moment still lingered.
In the past, only Ningwei could make her heart ache with worry. When Ningwei was even slightly uncomfortable, it would break her heart. Even though she had found her biological daughter, she couldn’t feel the same concern. It wasn’t until last night in the rental apartment, experiencing her daughter’s emotions and her daughter calling her “Mom” that she truly felt, “Zhiyi must be very sad. It’s heart-wrenching that, after finding her, I didn’t bring her home immediately.”
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