“It worked?” Ye Xiangkai saw Zhao Dongxuan smugly take off her phone and knew it was most likely a success. He smiled, “That’s great. I never thought Mingxuan could actually get a word in.”
“What Mingxuan?” Zhao Dongxuan protested. “That kid never even mentioned this to Mr. Tan!”
Ye Xiangkai: “Really?”
Zhao Dongxuan: “Of course! The deal only went through because Mr. Tan did me a favor! It has absolutely nothing to do with Ye Mingxuan!”
Ye Xiangkai nodded. “Regardless, this matter is settled for now. You’ve worked hard, Madam.”
He poured red wine for Zhao Dongxuan. This bottle of “Romane Brana” had been brought back from the Tan family estate last time and remained unopened.
Today, the couple sat in their room savoring the bottle. Ye Xiangkai poured the ruby-red liquid into polished stemmed glasses, snapped dozens of photos of the table setting, and carefully selected nine to post on his social feed:
[A 2014 Romanée-Conti. Life, like wine, demands careful appreciation. On this beautiful evening, I toast to everyone’s happiness and fulfillment.]
The post immediately garnered numerous likes, with many expressing envy. Ye Xiangkai replied to each comment one by one, feeling life was simply too wonderful.
Zhao Dongxuan said, “Honey, could you give me some of the money we made from the Tan family to buy jewelry?”
Zhao Dongxuan hung out with that clique of wealthy ladies, competing daily over whose jewelry was more expensive and dazzling. She was determined to outshine them all!
“Sure. Once I get the money, not only will we have your jewelry, but we can drink this kind of wine every day.”
“Thank you, honey!”
Zhao Dongxuan rolled her eyes. “But I discovered something this time.”
Ye Xiangkai: “What?”
Zhao Dongxuan: “Ye Mingxuan, of course. When I asked him, he said he didn’t tell Tan Zong. What does that mean?”
Ye Xiangkai: “What does it mean?”
Zhao Dongxuan: “It means that even if he were pregnant, Tan Sizhe wouldn’t give him the time of day!”
Ye Xiangkai fell silent, pondering carefully: “That makes sense.”
Zhao Dongxuan grew even more smug. She lifted her hand to trim her nails, blowing on them. “I’m the sharp one here. Even Tan Sizhe has to give me some face. Ye Mingxuan? Hah, don’t count on that guy.”
Zhao Dongxuan and Ye Xiangkai clinked glasses. Ye Yufan, who had eavesdropped on the entire conversation from behind the door, strolled back to his room.
It turned out Ye Mingxuan was having such a miserable time at the Tan household. Ye Yufan couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
She’d thought Ye Mingxuan would ride roughshod over the Ye family after getting pregnant. Looks like he’s no big deal after all.
The moment he pushed open his door, his phone rang. Ye Yufan answered: “What is it?”
Wang Zilu: “Yufan, I heard some news. I bet you’ll be interested.”
Ye Yufan: “What is it?”
Wang Zilu: “Ye Mingxuan is going to play piano at the gala.”
Ye Yufan slammed the door shut, making it rattle. “Seriously?”
Wang Zilu: “For real. My friend works in PR. She saw the program. I’ll snap a pic and send it over.”
Ye Yufan opened the backstage app and pulled up the photo. Pinching to zoom in, he spotted Ye Mingxuan’s name on the pink program.
“What? Play piano? Him?! No way!” Ye Yufan burst out laughing. “He can play piano? Hahahaha! He’s probably just going up there to make a fool of himself!”
Some lowly servant trying to pull off fancy Western stuff.
Wang Zilu: “I heard they’re rehearsing in the activity room tomorrow. We can just go check it out.”
Ye Yufan: “Fine, let’s go. I’ll see just how Ye Mingxuan embarrasses himself.”
After hanging up, Ye Yufan stretched out on his bed with a satisfied smile and dialed Yu Sen’s number: “Brother Yu Sen.”
“Yufan, what’s up?”
“Brother Yu Sen, wanna come to our school’s alumni reunion?”
Yu Sen chuckled: “Me? I’m not even from your school. Why would I crash your party?”
Ye Yufan: “Come on, I have tickets—front row seats, no less.”
Yu Sen: “Is Mingxuan coming?”
Ye Yufan froze, pouting unhappily at first, but quickly replied with a meaningful tone: “Not sure. Maybe he will.”
Yu Sen: “Alright, I’ll be there. Thanks, Yufan.”
Ye Yufan: “You’re welcome.”
Putting away his phone, Ye Yufan smirked triumphantly: “Ye Mingxuan, just wait until you make a fool of yourself.”
–
On Wednesday afternoon, Ye Mingxuan gathered with the club members in the activity room for rehearsal as planned. The four reciters stood together on the podium. Huang Xiaochu was assessing their training progress. Spotting Ye Mingxuan, she approached him: “Mingxuan, wait here for a moment. We’ll practice together later.”
Ye Mingxuan: “Okay.”
He found a seat and watched them recite while Xu Liang raised his phone to record.
The phone camera shifted from the group on the podium to the members playing around in the back, then panned to Ye Mingxuan sitting near the door. Suddenly, the activity room door swung open.
“Whoa?” Xu Liang lowered his phone. “Who are you?”
Ye Mingxuan turned his head, his smile fading.
Ye Yufan and Wang Zilu strode in confidently. Xu Liang stepped forward to block them: “Sorry, there’s a club activity here. Could you please go somewhere else?”
Everyone around them looked over. Ye Yufan turned to Ye Mingxuan: “We heard there was a rehearsal here. We came to observe.”
Huang Xiaochu approached: “We’ve just started rehearsing. There’s nothing much to see. Come back another time.”
Ye Yufan pleaded: “Please, senior! It’s rare we catch your rehearsal. Who knows when you’ll be free next? We’ve heard of Ye Mingxuan’s fame and came specifically to meet him.”
Wang Zilu chimed in obsequiously: “Exactly, exactly.”
Xu Liang said to Ye Mingxuan: “Oh—your fans, huh?”
Ye Mingxuan stared at the insincere Ye Yufan, his smile completely vanishing. He averted his gaze, his hands beneath the table clutching the fabric of his knees tightly.
Huang Xiaochu said, “Well then, come on in. Mingxuan, let’s practice.”
Ye Mingxuan nodded, shot Ye Yufan a blank glance, and sat down on the piano bench with Huang Xiaochu.
Ye Yufan and Wang Zilu took seats in the front row. Ye Yufan pulled out his phone, aiming it at Ye Mingxuan’s back, but quickly reconsidered. He shifted to the outer seat to film Ye Mingxuan’s profile.
He was determined to capture Ye Mingxuan’s embarrassing moments and anonymously post them on the campus network for everyone to mock. Only then could he vent the frustration he’d endured at the Tan family’s house!
Huang Xiaochu directed Ye Mingxuan to adjust his position. Both settled into place, hands resting on the keys.
Ye Yufan zoomed in repeatedly, focusing on Ye Mingxuan, silently counting: “Three, two, one.”
The next second, a melodious tune filled the classroom. Everyone fell silent, eyes fixed on Ye Mingxuan and Huang Xiaochu.
Ye Mingxuan and Huang Xiaochu played in perfect harmony. Both possessed striking appearances—one melancholic and cool, the other vibrant and sharp—offering the audience a visual feast.
Ye Mingxuan, being pregnant, wore loose clothing. Yet his slender frame didn’t appear bulky, and his condition remained unnoticed by others.
Xu Liang’s mouth gaped wider than a ping-pong ball.
Ye Mingxuan, being pregnant, wore loose-fitting clothes. Yet his slender frame didn’t appear bulky, making it impossible for others to tell.
Xu Liang’s mouth gaped wider than a ping-pong ball, so stunned he forgot to record the video.
Ye Yufan’s eyes and nostrils flared wide, trembling with rage.
How could this be?! How?! Ye Mingxuan could actually play the piano?! Why could he play? Where did he learn?!
Ye Yufan recalled they once had a piano at home. He’d tried learning but found it too difficult, eventually selling it. But Ye Mingxuan? He’d never had access to a piano, let alone master it so well!
After finishing the piece, Ye Mingxuan exhaled in relief. All his hard work these past days hadn’t been wasted.
Loud applause erupted around them. Xu Liang stood up. “Unbelievable! You two played amazingly!”
“Wow, that was so beautiful!”
“Your coordination was perfect.”
“This act is definitely going to win first place!”
Huang Xiaochu beamed with pride, turning to praise Ye Mingxuan: “Mingxuan, you’re amazing! You mastered this in just a few days.”
Ye Mingxuan smiled genuinely in return: “I’m just glad I didn’t hold you back.”
“Holding back? You’re too modest!” Huang Xiaochu waved her hand dismissively. “Break time!”
The members all found seats to chat.
Ye Mingxuan turned and caught sight of Ye Yufan’s furious face, instantly relieving most of the pent-up frustration in his chest.
Wang Zilu awkwardly said, “Yufan…”
Ye Yufan shot her a glare, deleted the video, grabbed his phone, and stormed off.
Seeing them leave, Xu Liang called out, “Aren’t you watching?”
The door slammed shut. Huang Xiaochu froze, bewildered. “What the hell.”…
At dusk, Ye Mingxuan stepped into the afterglow of the setting sun as he returned home. Spotting Tan Sizhe working in the living room, his eyes lit up. “Sir!”
Tan Sizhe had been staring at the computer screen until Ye Mingxuan spoke, then casually raised an eyebrow. “What’s got you so excited?”
Ye Mingxuan halted. “Huh? Am I?”
Tan Sizhe: “Yeah, excited enough to make your hair stand on end.”
Ye Mingxuan immediately clutched his head. Tan Sizhe covered his mouth with a fist and cleared his throat twice, a smile playing between his brows. “Just kidding. Your hair isn’t standing on end. But I can tell you’re genuinely happy.”
“…” Ye Mingxuan pressed his fingers to his temples, his face flushing. He walked over and sat beside Tan Sizhe. “Today’s rehearsal went really well.”
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason. Thinking back to Ye Yufan’s frustrated expression still made Ye Mingxuan feel genuinely pleased.
But the credit for Ye Yufan getting humiliated today really went to the teacher. Not only did he teach him piano, but he also built him a practice room, giving him the chance to hone his skills.
Ye Mingxuan pressed his lips together, summoned his courage, and looked at Tan Sizhe with determination: “Sir, I will practice diligently and live up to your teachings.”
Tan Sizhe lowered his gaze, a chuckle escaping his throat: “Alright, we’ll see.”
Ye Mingxuan beamed with delight, flashing Tan Sizhe a mischievous grin before scooping up his backpack and heading upstairs.
His smile was unlike any before—eyes crinkling into crescent moons, head tilted at a perfect angle—so radiant that Tan Sizhe found himself momentarily transfixed.
“… Realizing how foolish he looked, he turned his head back to the computer screen.
Aunt Fu carried in a fruit platter and set it down. “Hmm?” she murmured. “Sir, the screen is black. What are you looking at?”
Tan Sizhe: “…”
