Can't Hide My Love for You - Chapter 15

After returning to the company from the mall’s ribbon-cutting ceremony, Cheng Yixin took a brief rest before her vocal coach arrived.

The moment the coach saw her, a look of weary resignation flickered across their face, though professional courtesy forced a polite smile.

The coach struck a key on the piano, glanced at the sheet music, and said, “Before we start, let’s go over the section we learned last time. That shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Cheng Yixin held her lyric sheet, which was cluttered with tiny notes scribbled in red ink. “No problem,” she replied, her voice brimming with uncertainty.

“Alright, I’ll give you the starting pitch. Let’s begin from the line: ‘Without your permission, I will continue to love you.’”

Cheng Yixin cleared her throat and followed her intuition: “Mei yau dak nei di yun hui, ngo dou wui oi ha fui…” Her voice and expression were radiating a misplaced confidence.

The piano music stopped abruptly. The coach turned to her, trying to be as tactful as possible. “Don’t you feel your Cantonese pronunciation is… a bit off?”

“Is it?”

“…You’ve managed to turn a perfectly good Cantonese song into something that sounds like curry-flavored gibberish.” The coach took a deep breath, clutching their chest, mentally reminding themselves that the paycheck was worth the struggle.

They had never seen a student so linguistically challenged. “Maybe we should sign you up for a Cantonese crash course?”

“The show starts filming soon; there’s no time.” Cheng Yixin tried to offer a solution: “How about we just learn a different song?”

The coach countered, “Is that a decision I’m authorized to make?”

By the end of the lesson, they had barely scraped through the entire song. The coach tactfully suggested to Li Wenjing that they should switch to an easier piece. Li Wenjing was well aware of the difficulty of Cantonese phonetics for a complete novice, but she wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

It was early evening when Cheng Yixin returned to her villa after an afternoon ad shoot. The sky hadn’t completely darkened.

Li Wenjing, who had driven her back, clearly had an ulterior motive. She stood in front of Chi Yi’s courtyard across the street, admiring the flowers.

“Did President Chi plant all of these herself?”

“I don’t know, probably.”

“The lights aren’t on inside. Is she still at work?”

“Probably.”

“What time does she get off?”

“I don’t know.”

Li Wenjing was speechless. “You’re in a relationship with this woman, yet you know absolutely nothing about her.”

Cheng Yixin rubbed her nose and gave a sheepish smile. Their interactions were brief, and their online chats lacked real substance. She felt she wasn’t yet close enough to Chi Yi to pry, and mentally, she hadn’t fully stepped into the role of a “girlfriend.”

Before Chi Yi returned, the assistant, Xiao Yu, arrived with dinner. The two decided to head inside to eat first. Mid-meal, Cheng Yixin sent Chi Yi a message asking when she’d be home. Shortly after, Li Wenjing grabbed the phone and sent a follow-up: “Come over and find me when you’re off work.”

“Wow, dinner looks great today!” Cheng Yixin’s eyes lit up at the table full of spicy dishes. “Even Sliced Pork in Hot Chili Oil!”

“You’ve been working hard lately; consider this a ‘cheat meal’.”

Since there was plenty of food, Cheng Yixin invited Li Wenjing to join her. Xiao Yu, having already eaten, prepared to head home. Just as they took their first bites, the doorbell rang.

“Who is it?” Cheng Yixin craned her neck. Xiao Yu, on her way out, ushered the guest in.

“It’s me,” Chi Yi said as she appeared in their line of sight. She looked as though she had come straight from the office, still wearing her work clothes.

Since Chi Yi hadn’t eaten and there was plenty of food, they invited her to join them. But there was a problem.

As a celebrity who rarely cooked, Cheng Yixin relied on her assistant to deliver meals. She hadn’t even bought a full set of tableware for her new home. At that moment, there were only two pairs of chopsticks.

The two stared at each other. How embarrassing to invite someone to dinner and not have a bowl or chopsticks for them!

“Xiao Yu, go to the nearby convenience store and see if you can buy some disposable utensils.”

“Don’t bother,” Chi Yi stopped her. “I think I’ll pass.”

“The store is right at the community entrance; it’ll be quick.” Cheng Yixin assumed Chi Yi was uncomfortable with the lack of proper dishes. “I just moved in and haven’t organized everything. I’ll buy a proper set tomorrow.”

“It’s not that,” Chi Yi said, looking at the table dominated by bright red chili oil. “It’s too spicy. I can’t handle it.”

Tastes can’t be forced, but it felt wrong to let Chi Yi sit there empty-handed. Li Wenjing picked up a piece of pork and said, “Try this and see if it’s too much. It’s not spicy to me at all—more of a fragrant heat. The meat is very tender.”

Just as she was about to hand it over, Li Wenjing realized the social faux pas. Looking at the couple sitting side-by-side, she awkwardly retracted her hand. “Yixin, you give President Chi a piece to taste.”

“Oh, sure.” Cheng Yixin went to grab some meat, but since the surface was drenched in red oil, she used a spoon to push it aside, picking a piece with less oil. She held a bowl underneath and brought it to Chi Yi’s lips.

Rarely ever feeding anyone, she lacked finesse. A drop of oil accidentally touched the corner of Chi Yi’s mouth. Cheng Yixin instinctively pulled out a tissue and wiped it away.

“Is it spicy?”

Chi Yi chewed it a few times and swallowed slowly. “It’s alright. I can handle it.”

Cheng Yixin fed her two more pieces of meat and a few other dishes of similar spiciness. Li Wenjing ate her meal while quietly observing. The “clueless” Teacher Cheng hadn’t noticed that someone’s ears had turned a bright shade of red.

“Our Yixin can’t live without spice. President Chi, I suggest you start learning how to eat spicy food now,” Li Wenjing teased.

“I used to never eat it,” Chi Yi said. “Then once, I tried a spicy Sichuan hotpot—”

Cheng Yixin cut in excitedly, “And you got addicted?”

“…I got a burning stomach ache and acute gastritis.”

“But it was definitely a thrill. It tasted good.”

Cheng Yixin raised her eyebrows proudly, as if the praise was meant for her.

After dinner, the three sat in the living room. Li Wenjing seized the opportunity.

“President Chi, have you heard the song ‘Zhong Wu Yan’?”

Chi Yi looked at Cheng Yixin. “I have. I know she’s practicing it for her show.”

“That’s perfect.” Li Wenjing smiled with relief. “Yixin is busy during the day and doesn’t have much time for vocal lessons. I was wondering if you could supervise her practice in the evenings when you’re free?”

She added tactfully, “The recording is coming up soon, and her singing currently has a… ‘curry’ vibe. It’s quite urgent.”

“What ‘curry’ vibe? I sing great! My teacher even praised me!” Cheng Yixin glared at her manager. How could she reveal her weaknesses in front of Chi Yi!

“Right, right. After the teacher praised you, they felt like hanging themselves. Lying to yourself is one thing, but don’t expect the rest of us not to feel guilty.”

Chi Yi burst into laughter, her eyes filled with warmth. “No problem. I’ll give it a try.”

Not forgetting her girlfriend’s feelings, Chi Yi added, “But if the final result still isn’t ideal, Yixin should just sing what she’s good at. Otherwise, she’ll only be ridiculed when the show airs.”

Li Wenjing nodded repeatedly. Seeing her goal achieved, she urged them to start practicing immediately, while she—the “third wheel”—made her exit.

Chi Yi asked Cheng Yixin for a copy of the lyrics and a pen. “How far along are you?”

“I just went through the whole song once today.”

Chi Yi thought for a moment. “Sing it for me. I’ll listen for specific issues.”

The “confident little singer” Cheng Yixin cleared her throat and began a half-spoken, half-sung rendition without accompaniment. When she finished, she saw the exact same expression on Chi Yi’s face that her vocal coach usually wore.

“Teacher Chi,” Cheng Yixin asked humbly, “do you think I’m beyond saving?”

Chi Yi hid her shock and helplessness, let out an unconscious sigh, but then quickly nodded. “It’s fine. It’s just that the pronunciation of some words is non-standard. We just need to learn them one by one.”

She placed the lyric sheet on the table. The paper, clean just minutes ago, was now covered in circles. Red circles accounted for nearly half the song. Cheng Yixin gasped and clutched her temples. “Jianqiu, my head hurts…” (A playful reference to a famous Chinese drama line). “Maybe I should just give up…”

She made a move to leave, but Chi Yi caught her by the wrist. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll teach you.”

Chi Yi’s brown eyes locked onto hers, calm and almost magical. Cheng Yixin instinctively murmured an “Okay.”

They sat side-by-side on the sofa. Chi Yi began correcting the circled words one by one. Before they started, Chi Yi stared at her and asked, “Were those cookies I brought last time good?”

Cheng Yixin had finished the leftovers from their movie night almost immediately. The rich, mellow flavor still lingered in her memory. “They were delicious.”

“Do you have a favorite flavor?”

“Matcha!”

“Good.” Chi Yi smiled slightly. “For every circled word you learn to pronounce correctly, I’ll reward you with one cookie. How does that sound?”

Cheng Yixin was instantly interested. “Deal!”

“Three regular cookies can be exchanged for one matcha cookie.”

Cheng Yixin felt a bit like a donkey with a carrot dangled in front of it—hardworking, but never quite reaching the prize. She glanced at the many circles on the paper; the individual problems didn’t seem that hard if taken one by one. She agreed.

The lesson officially began. Unlike the vocal coach’s line-by-line method, Chi Yi used associative memory.

“Do you know how to say ‘I love you’?”

Cheng Yixin opened her mouth, thought for a bit, and said, “O-ai-lei?”

“The pronunciation for ‘love’ is oi. Round your mouth into an ‘O’ shape and sound it from the throat—oi.”

“O… i… oi?”

“Yes. And the word for ‘you’ is nei.”

“O-oi-nei?”

Chi Yi nodded with a smile. Seeing her expression, Cheng Yixin suddenly felt something was amiss.

A few seconds later, she realized: “You’re hitting on me!”