The final exams passed in a whirlwind of intense review sessions.
Jiang Chen spent nearly all her time buried in practice papers.
When she returned from lunch break, several more had appeared on her desk.
With the seniors graduating, the class seemed to catch the scent of exam season.
Even the rowdiest one, Wang Yu, stopped heading out to play ball every day.
Teacher Ma had recently singled him out for praise while encouraging the rest of the class.
“Look at how Wang Yu has sensed the urgency of time. Everyone else needs to work hard too!”
Since it was a city-wide unified exam, grading took longer than usual, but the results still came out three days before break.
Jiang Chen lived up to the principal’s expectations, securing the top spot for Jianhai High School.
For that, she received a large red certificate, personally inscribed by Principal Zhou.
As for Zhou Qingying’s meeting with her mother, it was postponed until after the performances.
The Haiyan Theater Troupe had two drama shows scheduled in the city.
Jiang Chen and the others were attending the second one.
“I need to prepare first— train for a while so I can face her with more confidence.”
The complicated emotions in the girl’s heart could now be openly displayed.
Jiang Chen could feel that Zhou Qingying was gradually emerging from the shadows.
She still cared, but the former obsession was gone.
It was almost magical… like a martial artist suddenly opening the Ren and Du meridians.
Some dead ends you’d struggled with forever would suddenly collapse like a crumbling wall.
People have to let themselves go eventually.
That was the conclusion Jiang Xiaoyue gave Jiang Chen.
Her mom had heard it from Grandma when she was little, and Grandma had heard it from her own elders.
The wisdom of our ancestors— Jiang Chen remarked, then passed the phrase along to Wang Ziyue.
President Wang’s commentary was rather sharp, leaving Jiang Chen unsure of her stance.
“So you think your sister needs to let herself go? Hm? Or are you asking me to let you go?”
It sounded like a complaint, or maybe like she was upset.
Since she couldn’t figure it out, Jiang Chen did what anyone would do— ask Mom.
Wang Ziyue never expected Jiang Chen to show their chat history to her mother.
But she couldn’t bring herself to get mad at Jiang Chen.
This kid’s occasional playful streak— she probably bore half the responsibility for that.
As for the other half from Mrs. Jiang… she’d likely end up shouldering that too.
Sigh…
Still, this counted as progress, right?
Jiang Chen no longer hid their relationship.
She hadn’t announced it loudly, but she’d let those around her know.
She had a very close “older sister.”
Chen Ting and Zhou Qingying teased her endlessly about it, constantly bringing up examples from their old JK tea parties.
“I knew there was something off about you…” Chen Ting would pester Jiang Chen for more details.
Jiang Chen refused to answer, her skill at playing dead growing ever more refined.
“Chenchen, I’ve suddenly realized… tsk tsk, you’re not so simple~”
Zhou Qingying took a more roundabout approach.
Trying to bait the turtle.
“Don’t try to provoke me. There’s really nothing to say.”
Girl talk always prioritized romance, and a best friend’s love life was the top priority.
“Seriously, President Wang is totally the perfect seme from novels…”
“Her? She actually has plenty of little flaws.”
Jiang Chen thought back, but the images that came to mind were all of Wang Ziyue taking care of her.
“Uh… not that many.”
“Look at that— our little Jiang, whose heart was full of nothing but studying, has forgotten her own vows.”
“What vow did I make…” Jiang Chen grew more guilty the more she spoke.
“I just want to study hard right now.” ×2
Chen Ting and Zhou Qingying exchanged a glance and said in unison.
Jiang Chen’s fluffy hair drooped instantly. She slumped over her desk, arms shielding her face.
“I really do just want to study hard. My grades haven’t dropped.”
“Tsk tsk, little Jiang…”
Chen Ting adopted a worldly tone.
Jiang Chen could only continue playing dead, but she knew the scale in her heart had already started accruing interest.
“It’s decorated so beautifully…”
Chen Ting looked around, surrounded by the bustling crowd.
The three girls sat on the first floor, while Wang Ziyue and Jiang Xiaoyue were in a box on the second.
Jiang Chen figured her mom probably wanted to keep an eye on her.
She glanced back at the overhanging box, but the lighting was too dim to see clearly.
The yellow lights made Wang Ziyue’s blonde hair less noticeable.
This drama performance was undoubtedly a sensation.
What was meant to be just two shows had already booked dates for the second half of the year, though the lead role would switch to another actress in the troupe.
Ma Lijun would move on to the next city for promotions afterward.
Zhou Qingying didn’t gawk at the decorations like Chen Ting.
Instead, she stared silently at the stage.
She’d thought her emotions were sorted, but the moment her mother emerged from behind the curtain, ripples still spread through her heart.
Only this time, it wasn’t the old dull ache— more like… uh, being lightly pecked by something?
Jiang Chen turned to glance at Zhou Qingying. Noticing the gaze, Zhou Qingying turned and smiled at her.
She mouthed the words.
“I’m fine.”
Jiang Chen sighed inwardly.
Whether she was fine or not, they’d just have to treat it as fine.
With the music and dialogue, Jiang Chen’s attention was drawn back to the center of the stage.
The woman who came alive the moment she stepped onstage effortlessly commanded the entire audience’s focus.
Some people truly were born to dominate.
On this square stage, she was the only light.
Even after the performance ended, Jiang Chen remained immersed in the awe.
“As expected… she’s so dazzling.”
Zhou Qingying’s tone held a touch of admiration, mixed with something else.
Very faint, so light that even she barely noticed it.
“We’ll wait for you outside?”
“Mm.”
Zhou Qingying hung a staff pass around her neck— one Wang Ziyue had gotten for her— allowing her direct access to the dressing room to find her mom.
Backstage was chaotic at the moment.
Zhou Qingying dodged the bustling crowds and stepped into this quiet space, almost isolated from the world.
“You’re here.”
Ma Lijun had been resting with her eyes closed.
Hearing the door open, she glanced at the mirror.
Her daughter, whom she hadn’t seen in years, stood behind her.
“I’m here, Mom.”
It was a sentence that bridged years of separation— words Ma Lijun should have heard much earlier— drifting lightly into her ears.
Hearing that “Mom,” Ma Lijun’s expression didn’t change much, but the deep detachment in her eyes seemed to melt just a little.
Only a little.
Zhou Qingying recalled the long talk she’d had with her dad the night before.
Perhaps her mom’s arrival had lowered his guard too.
This man, who habitually sealed away his feelings, had shown his vulnerable side to his daughter.
“I really loved her back then… but she loved acting more, I suppose.”
Zhou Qingying listened as her dad described how they’d met in college, dated, and eventually married.
It seemed that once their names were entered into the same household register, all those beautiful memories turned into shackles for both of them.
Ma Lijun’s parents had passed early, and she’d always carried a fierce determination to become a stage actress.
Zhou Ming loved that resilience and was captivated by her talent.
But in the end, that very personality and passion for performance became the fuse.
Differences arose between them; the imbalance between family and career sparked more conflicts, but those conflicts were temporarily buried.
Until Ma Lijun discovered she was pregnant.