Zhong Zhuohua had just recovered from a cold, so she only took a symbolic sip of red wine.
Seeing her son-in-law attend the banquet alone, she couldn’t help but think of her daughter. The last time they met was two months ago.
With filming on a tight schedule lately, she simply hadn’t been able to spare time to return to Beicheng.
She sent her assistant away and asked Zhou Shiyi directly, “You came alone?”
Wearing a loose shirt, Zhou Shiyi answered calmly, “Mhm. Zhong Yi’s at Professor Yu’s place.”
“She just went over today?”
“She arrived in Jiangcheng yesterday.”
Zhong Zhuohua gave a faint nod. She’d been shooting night scenes back-to-back, her days and nights reversed.
Her daughter was thoughtful and didn’t want to disturb her, only sending messages to remind her to eat on time and get some rest.
She set down her wine glass, picked up a cup of warm water instead, and gestured to the seat beside her.
Zhou Shiyi took the cue and sat down.
It was their first proper one-on-one conversation.
Onlookers assumed they were talking business—some guessed that Kuncheng Auto was planning to invite Zhong Zhuohua to endorse their sports car line.
In truth, it had nothing to do with business.
Zhong Zhuohua had never been completely satisfied with her son-in-law. Zhou Shiyi, seasoned as he was in the business world, could easily sense her reservations.
Her inviting him to sit was just an excuse to ask about her daughter.
“Shiyi, add me on WeChat,” she said, fishing out her phone.
No one was around. Zhou Shiyi replied, “Sure, Mom, I’ll scan yours.”
She handed him the phone and chatted as he added her:
“You’ve started planning the wedding, right?”
“Dad and I are discussing it.”
After they connected, she sent him an address.
“Come by the house after the banquet. It’s on your way.”
It was the home she shared with Jiang Jingyuan in Shanghai—not far from the venue.
Zhou Shiyi nodded. “Alright.”
He assumed she had something to pass on to Zhong Yi, but then she said, “Take your father-in-law home with you.”
Zhou Shiyi froze.
“We need to continue discussing the wedding details.”
Zhong Zhuohua was calm and unapologetic. She knew her son-in-law had likely heard enough about her and Jiang Jingyuan’s situation.
There was no need to keep up appearances or pretend things were fine.
With that settled, she said gently, “No need to keep me company. Go mingle with your peers.”
She understood—no young person enjoyed sitting with elders at a banquet.
“Okay, Mom. Take care.”
Zhou Shiyi raised his wine glass politely, then left. As he walked away, he began thinking about what to say when he met his father-in-law.
Zhong Zhuohua pulled out her phone to message her daughter but was interrupted by her manager.
“Just saw your son-in-law. Handsome and polite—can’t ask for more.” The manager tapped her glass.
“Looks like President Jiang finally did something you approve of.”
Only her manager and her boss knew she’d married and had a daughter. She’d hidden it for years, but in the end, the truth came out.
When her boss found out, he’d exploded:
“Zhong Zhuohua, are you insane? You threw away your whole career for some man? Do you even know who Jiang Jingyuan’s father is? You think he’d even acknowledge the kid? You’re going to regret this!”
The manager’s voice brought her back:
“By the way, Lu Cheng’s studio called. Asked which concert we want box tickets for—April in Jiangcheng or May in Beicheng?”
Zhong Zhuohua took a sip of warm water and answered without hesitation, “Thank Lu Cheng for me. Tell him I’m too busy filming. I’ve got family matters in May too—won’t make it to either show.”
“But your scenes in Jiangcheng are already wrapped. Perfect chance to relax. Lu Cheng was thoughtful to extend the offer.”
Lu Cheng had met her years ago when he had a tiny cameo in one of her films. She’d taken a liking to him and had stayed in touch ever since.
Four years ago, she even played his mother in a drama—though she wasn’t the lead. When the posters came out, the internet erupted.
“Why would someone of Zhong Zhuohua’s stature play second fiddle to a rising idol?”
Some claimed it was the power of capital. Others said the director must’ve owed a massive favor.
The truth? None of that.
She had willingly taken a lesser role to support a younger generation.
The film released two years ago and eventually received critical acclaim. Lu Cheng won two Best Actor awards for it.
At the award ceremony, he personally thanked Zhong Zhuohua for guiding and supporting him throughout the years.
Lu Cheng had always been humble and grateful. Though the debt was repaid, he still remembered her kindness and included her studio in any good opportunity.
The manager asked again, “So, are we going? I’ll come with you. It’s been years since I’ve been to Jiangcheng.”
Zhong Zhuohua was firm.
“No. Go with a friend if you want.”
The two had known each other for over thirty years—close as family. When she said no, there was no room for negotiation.
And the reason for her refusal? She wouldn’t say. No one dared to ask, and the manager knew better than to press.
A few old friends from the arts circle came over to chat, and the concert topic was dropped.
After staying for two hours, she excused herself, citing night shoots, and left early.
On the way home, she messaged Lu Cheng herself:
[Got some family matters to take care of. Can’t make it. Wishing you a successful concert! 💪]
He quickly replied:
[Thank you, Ms. Zhong. Your blessing means the world. Let me know if I can ever help in return.]
She replied with a few polite emojis and didn’t say more.
Back when they first met, he called her “Zhong-jie,” not knowing she was Zhong Yi’s mother. Even now, he still didn’t know.
“I’m old enough to be your aunt—calling me ‘jie’ is inappropriate.”
He’d been classmates with Zhong Yi. Technically, she was old enough to be his aunt. After that, he started calling her “Ms. Zhong.”
Over the years, she secretly pulled strings to get him resources, publicly promoted his work. Not because she admired him—but because of her daughter.
Not long after Zhong Yi began her sophomore year, she’d called her one night, her voice low:
“Mom, I broke up with Lu Cheng. I thought about it for a long time. He’s debuted now, and soon the whole country will know his name. There’s no future for us. Better to end it now than later.”
“I initiated the breakup. He’s always loved singing, but his family couldn’t afford to support that dream. Acting was his chance to break into the industry—make it easier to be a singer one day.”
“He’s a good person, Mom. He doesn’t have any backing or connections. If you can help him… please do. I just want his dream to come true.”
***
10:15 PM.
Zhou Shiyi’s car pulled up to Jiang Jingyuan and Zhong Zhuohua’s Shanghai home.
His mother-in-law might ignore her husband, but he couldn’t.
He called ahead:
“Dad, are you free tonight?”
“I am. What’s up?”
“I’m in Shanghai for a banquet. Ran into Mom there.”
“What a coincidence.” Jiang Jingyuan glanced at his watch. He was waiting for his wife to come home.
“Yeah. She said she had to shoot tonight, so you’d be home alone. How about you come over to my place? I’ll keep you company for a drink.”
Jiang Jingyuan couldn’t tell if his wife had given him an out, or if his son-in-law was trying to save face for him.
“Sure. I’ll come over. Where are you now?”
“Five minutes from your place.”
“Wait for me a bit.” He hung up and told the housekeeper to pack a bag.
He texted his wife:
[You’re heading straight to set? Not coming home?]
Zhong Zhuohua:
[You ruin my mood for shooting the next day.]
Jiang Jingyuan:
[So you’re never seeing me again?]
Zhong Zhuohua:
[What for? There’s no love between us. I don’t need your money or your name anymore. Back then, I clung to you because I needed leverage, not because I loved you.]
He stared at the screen in silence for a long while.
Another message came:
[If I had a choice, I’d never see you again. But we have a daughter. I can’t avoid you.]
He forced himself to stay calm:
[When you finish shooting, let’s sit down and talk through all of this.]
She couldn’t even remember the last time they’d properly met.
Back then, when she was exhausted, she would fly across the country just to be near him. She didn’t want to do anything—just lean against him.
Now, at this stage in life, everything looked different. Whether he loved her or not didn’t seem to matter anymore. Her career was thriving, her daughter outstanding—what more could she ask for?
[I’ll head to Shiyi’s. He’s downstairs. I’ll wait for you to come back before leaving.]
Putting away his phone, Jiang Jingyuan put on his suit and headed out.
He still cared about appearances—he couldn’t let it seem like his wife wasn’t working tonight. So when he saw his son-in-law, he said:
“Your mother-in-law just came home to grab something. I’ll wait for her before we head out.”
Zhou Shiyi replied, “No rush.”
Ten minutes later, a black van pulled into the driveway.
Jiang Jingyuan turned to his son-in-law.
“No need to come down. I’ll just say a few words to your mother-in-law.”
He stepped out.
Zhong Zhuohua watched him approach. Time had been kind to him—he looked more magnetic than ever, the kind of man who naturally drew people in.
She rolled down the window but didn’t unlock the door.
For the first time, they were meeting so openly in the driveway. Neither cared if someone passing by took a picture.
Jiang Jingyuan reached for her hand resting on the window edge, checking if it was warm.
No more fever.
But he didn’t let go.
His rough thumb grazed the back of her hand—warm, textured. Once, it was the very thing she craved most: his warmth and that strange sense of security only he could offer.
She sneered.
“Not afraid of getting photographed? What if someone leaks it—your ‘devoted husband of 20 years’ image will crumble.”
He said calmly, “I never needed an image. I never said I was a good man. Just a good father.”
Their daughter was his everything. He’d raised her himself. That much, he was proud of.
Zhong Zhuohua stared him down.
Tonight, she was dressed to impress—bold and striking. Even after twenty years together, her intense gaze nearly overwhelmed him.
He instinctively averted his eyes—glancing toward the nearby greenery—only to look back again.
“What are you dodging?” she snapped.
“Feeling guilty?”
“I’ve been home taking care of our daughter. What could I possibly be guilty of?”
“Don’t use her as a shield,” she scoffed.
“She’s not a child anymore.”
“She’s still my daughter, no matter how old. I’ve always worried about her eating and sleeping.”
She didn’t want to argue outside. Jerking her hand away, she tilted her chin toward Zhou Shiyi’s car.
“Don’t keep your golden son waiting.”
He said nothing.
Her tone was icy—it was unclear whether Zhou Shiyi had gotten him into this situation, or he’d gotten Zhou Shiyi into it.