Hopeless Romance (GL) - Chapter 50

Chapter 50

On the day the results were released, Ye Du had no choice but to lock herself in her room. Even though it was nearly two hours until ten o’clock, any sound from her phone would be infinitely amplified by Ye Sangshu. Ye Du didn’t want to look so pathetic; the outcome was already decided, and any emotional upheaval was futile. A long time passed, and Ye Sangshu in the living room seemed to gradually calm down. Ye Du’s thoughts were completely immersed in her novel. Just as the story reached a climax—the killer was in the middle of destroying evidence—Ye Sangshu abruptly pushed the bedroom door open. She started to step inside but hesitated, standing at the threshold instead.

“627 points. I got the text message,” she said. Ye Du couldn’t judge her mother’s satisfaction from her tone or expression, but for Ye Du, it was more than enough. This score was high enough to let her leave Yun-Chuan—and leave Ye Sangshu.

“Okay. I’ll spend the next few days looking at the university applications.” Based on the cutoff scores from previous years, as long as there wasn’t a major shift, getting into R-University should be no problem. Ye Du was calmer than she had imagined. She thought back to how she had collapsed in tears over the failed early admission exam months ago; now, that was just a distant memory. Perhaps setbacks in life are like a rainstorm—the ground eventually dries, it doesn’t stay soggy forever.

…

Chen Pupu had also received her text message early. She had used her own phone number and woke up at dawn, too anxious to eat. She huddled under her blanket waiting for the message, but being the big-hearted person she was, she actually managed to drift off for a while. When she woke up again, the score was there. Her Art Exam score had already cleared the cutoff for the Yun-Chuan Conservatory of Music. By some stroke of luck, her academic score was nearly at the level of last year’s Tier-2 university cutoff. Barring any accidents, she would be heading to her dream university this September.

At the thought of this, Chen Pupu couldn’t help but scream. Qin Wei and Chen Sijun, who had been waiting outside the bedroom for a long time, burst in immediately. Qin Wei whipped the blanket away, anxious for news. Though Chen Pupu didn’t speak, the uncontrollable smile on her face allowed her parents to finally let go of their worries.

“It’s not very high, but it’s enough—443 points.” This score was higher than any of her practice exams. She felt incredibly lucky; though she lacked natural academic talent, she always seemed to find a path when things looked hopeless and reach a result that satisfied her. The months of intensive training had been grueling—high-intensity sight-singing and ear-training, singing the exam pieces over and over, and the constant repetition of piano compositions. Everyone was practicing desperately. For Chen Pupu, the training was far more exhausting than the third year of high school; in the life of an art student, the Art Exam is the most important one. It is their area of expertise, the thing they invest immense energy and money into—it is a path of their own, one that should not be criticized or looked down upon.

…

Ye Du hadn’t expected the first call regarding her grades to come from Xu Jian. Once Xu Jian realized the probability of them being alumni again had skyrocketed, she decided she would drag Ye Du to Yong-Xing even if she had to bind her. After Xu Jian mentioned it several times, Ye Du felt too embarrassed to refuse, only saying she wanted to wait until the applications and admission letters were settled. Xu Jian understood; she herself was settled and carefree, and she didn’t want to push too hard.

The call from Song Yu, however, went directly to Ye Sangshu. When Ye Sangshu heard his voice, she didn’t recognize it at first. Too much time had passed, and the voice sounded much older than she remembered. She found herself trying to calculate when Song Yu had last called her name, and for what reason. If she remembered correctly, it was the last time he returned to this house to pack his things—mostly books and a few clothes. Ye Sangshu had sat on the sofa the whole time, watching coldly as he packed and bundled everything. Finally, Song Yu stood at the door and said, “Ye Sangshu, after all these years, I don’t know which of us is more pathetic.”

Ye Sangshu naturally felt she was the more pathetic one. She had wasted years of her youth only to become a divorced woman. As much as she had hated Song Yu then, she was equally calm now—not out of forgiveness or a soft heart, but because after all these years, she didn’t want to make things hard for herself anymore. That man had started a new life with a new wife and child, living his quiet days happily. Even if she stood forever in those memories, being cut to pieces by hatred and resentment, Song Yu would never look back, and no one else would feel that pain. The only person who could save her was herself.

“Ye Du did okay on the exam. Do you have a reason for calling?” Despite having “let go,” Ye Sangshu still felt a wave of nausea talking to him.

“I want to see her, have a meal or something. I didn’t want to disturb her while she was studying so hard. After all, I am her father. I certainly should be present for something as important as going to university.”

“Song Yu, how have you become even more disgusting than before? There were plenty of things in Ye Du’s life more important than going to university. Now that I’ve worked so hard to raise her and she’s ‘presentable,’ you want to come back and claim a ready-made daughter?” The humiliation and anger made Ye Sangshu lose control of her volume, and every word fell clearly into Ye Du’s ears. Ye Du picked up a mirror from the windowsill and examined herself, wondering if she lived up to the description “presentable.” It was funny—this home hadn’t changed at all. They had fought tooth and nail over a decade ago, and they were doing the same now. They truly were a “perfect match.”

“I don’t want to fight with you. Either give me Ye Du’s contact information, or I’ll contact my daughter myself.” Song Yu had learned the score from Ye Du’s grandmother. Although Ye Sangshu’s parents claimed they wouldn’t help her, they had assisted the mother and daughter behind the scenes for years. Ye Sangshu was too proud to show weakness, and Ye Du’s grandfather was too stubborn to lower his face, but a mother’s heart couldn’t help but worry. Ye Du’s grandmother always kept her in mind and cared deeply about her results. Song Yu was undoubtedly vain. Many of his friends’ children had just finished the Gaokao, but Ye Du’s score was the best among those he knew. Her future would surely be bright, and who wouldn’t want such a child? Especially a daughter—considerate and filial.

“In your dreams. I won’t let Ye Du have anything to do with you.” Ye Sangshu hung up, and long-absent negative emotions surged back into her heart.

Ye Du hesitated, wondering if she should go out, but she didn’t know what to say. Although she was the center of the conversation, she felt more like a bargaining chip being utilized by these two parents to achieve their own ends. No one cared if she missed her father, no one cared if these words hurt her, and no one looked closely at how she had grown up over the years—how she had to develop a resilient upward growth within a daily dry well. Ultimately, Ye Du returned to the chair at her desk and picked up her mystery novel. The plot had reached the point where the killer was being revealed; many of the setups exceeded her limited imagination—much like this life, full of unexpected absurdities.

…

This thought was validated to the highest degree when Song Yu showed up at the door.

If Song Yu hadn’t waited at the door and disturbed the neighbors by knocking repeatedly, Ye Sangshu swore she would never have opened it. She hated the phrase “old feelings,” especially when it manifested in seeing her ex-husband again; it made her feel even more nauseous. Suppressing the complex emotions in her heart, she let him in.

In truth, despite preparing for over a decade, when she actually saw her father again, Ye Du found she couldn’t hate him. He was too much of a stranger. In this long-awaited reunion, she couldn’t even associate the man before her with the name “Song Yu.” Her first thought upon seeing him was, So that’s what he looks like. He looked like an easy-going person, kind-faced and quick to smile. Ye Du imagined that if Song Yu had been present during any of the times Ye Sangshu had scolded her, he probably would have stepped in to stop her. Then, Ye Du could have experienced what it felt like to be protected.

After thinking for a long time, Ye Du politely said: “Hello.”

The greeting left Song Yu unsure of how to respond. No one invited him to sit down. Though he had lived in this house for several years, many things had changed. He could only say awkwardly, “You’ve grown so much.” When Ye Du detached herself to look at the scene, she felt Song Yu was like a distant relative she hadn’t seen in ages. Because there were no feelings and no shared history, he could only say, “Oh, you’re so tall now.” Someone more talkative might have added, “You’re even taller than your mother.” Heaven knows, Ye Du had been taller than Ye Sangshu since middle school.

“It’s been over a decade. Growing this much is normal according to a standard growth rate,” Ye Du offered a reasonable explanation.

There was no logical flaw in her statement. To hide his embarrassment, Song Yu could only take a sip of scalding water from his thermos, saying with a burnt tongue, “Let’s go out to eat today and celebrate properly.”

Ye Du looked at Ye Sangshu to gauge her reaction. Ye Du herself wasn’t against it. When Song Yu first started knocking, her emotions had been at their peak, but now that she wasn’t facing the “father” of her imagination, she could face the man before her quite calmly. Ye Sangshu felt powerless. Although she didn’t want her daughter involved with Song Yu, legally they shared an inseparable blood bond, and socially they were father and daughter. Those social norms and the eyes of outsiders were like an invisible shackle, tethering this broken family of three together. As long as one person refused to let go, this relationship would persist until the end of their lives.

Ye Du didn’t think that far ahead. She just felt that if Song Yu truly had a change of heart and wanted to take on the responsibilities of a father, it wasn’t entirely out of the question. However, emotional compensation was too abstract, and Ye Du was too tired to deal with a hypocritical scene.

“The admission letters are still a few days away. It’s too early to celebrate. You didn’t come here just to treat us to a meal, did you?” At this moment, Ye Du was as rational as if she weren’t talking to the father she hadn’t seen in years. She knew she couldn’t rely on Ye Sangshu for this; her mother still had lingering feelings and hesitation, and any decision she made would likely be regretted later. Ye Du sat on the small sofa by the window. Seeing this, Song Yu found the nearest chair.

“Of course not. I was thinking that university will surely cost a lot of money—tuition, living expenses, and so on. I truly haven’t fulfilled my responsibilities over the years, so I wanted to use this chance to compensate you.” Ye Du had never realized she was so important. She looked at Ye Sangshu sitting in the middle of the sofa and felt a pang of sadness.

“Song Yu, how much money do you even make? I, Ye Sangshu, can afford these costs. Stop your posturing.” Once money was mentioned, Ye Sangshu could not tolerate a submissive stance. Regardless of the relationship, she never wanted to be the one holding out her hand to someone else.

“This is for Ye Du!” Song Yu’s polite tone vanished when facing Ye Sangshu.

“Fine. I accept,” Ye Du said, gathering her courage even though she knew her mother would be furious. She didn’t do this solely for Ye Sangshu; after all, she couldn’t fully imagine how hard being a single mother was, but she knew having money would make things easier for her mother. More importantly, it was a fact that Song Yu had abandoned his wife and daughter. It was a fact he had escaped punishment. Most of the blame had fallen on Ye Sangshu—”divorced woman” and “abandoned wife” became her identity, while Song Yu’s affair was seen as a common mistake men make. For years, Ye Du had only seen her mother’s suffering. She knew she couldn’t hurt Song Yu emotionally, so making him pay a financial price was only right. Besides, this bit of money couldn’t compensate for anything, because Ye Du had completely lost her imagination of a father. Her social role as a daughter was already incomplete.

Ye Sangshu hadn’t expected Ye Du to side with Song Yu. She was shaking with rage. She didn’t understand how Ye Du could be so calm, as if she weren’t the victim of Song Yu’s choices back then.

In the end, this “family of three” never got the chance to sit at the same table for a meal. Song Yu breathed a sigh of relief when he left—his goal was achieved, and he didn’t have to endure an agonizing period of time together. It was a good outcome. However, Ye Sangshu didn’t give Ye Du any kind looks. “I saved money for your university. Why did you take his money? Aren’t you just slapping me in the face?” Actually, Ye Sangshu was very proud of Ye Du’s score. When she called Ye Du’s grandmother to share the news, she felt like she had finally made it through the darkness.

“He’s my dad, too. He has the responsibility to support my life.” Ye Du wavered, not knowing if she was right or wrong. Faced with her mother’s intense resentment, she began to feel sad as well. Sometimes Ye Du wondered: since the fault wasn’t hers, why did she inevitably have to pay the price?

In the year she turned 18, Ye Du—who as a child had been mocked by classmates as a “wild kid”—finally, in a certain sense, possessed a father of her own.