She Adopted Me After My Biological Mother Passed Away - Chapter 13

Is This a Good Thing?

Li Lingling was still messaging the group chat with unbridled joy, forwarding trending content from various platforms. Tiangua hadn’t woken up yet, so only Yu Xiu was lazily replying with a few emojis.

Watching the cheers erupting in the group and the heat intensifying online, Chi Yeyu tapped out a few lines of agreement on her screen, but her lips were pressed into a straight line.

Shi Shuxue looked up at her, sensing something was off.

“You’re not happy?” Shi Shuxue closed her book and asked directly.

Chi Yeyu set her phone down and leaned over to hug Shi Shuxue, only to be ruthlessly pushed away. She settled for resting her chin on the high schooler’s shoulder, saying, “No, I should be quite happy. Shi Xianyu’s song is a hit.”

“A hit?” Shi Shuxue was a bit surprised. She took the phone and scrolled through the screen, her shoulder line tensing unnaturally as she saw the trending topics and the flood of comments.

She asked Chi Yeyu: “Is this a good thing?”

Chi Yeyu countered: “What do you think?”

Shi Shuxue shook her head. She didn’t think so. For some reason, seeing Shi Xianyu’s name thrust before the public and her music known by everyone stirred a faint, lingering sense of unease in her heart.

Seeing her expression, Chi Yeyu arched an eyebrow. “Why think so much? Do you think your mother’s songs aren’t worthy of this much attention?”

“It’s not about that…”

Chi Yeyu walked to the window, gazing at the snow-laden branches outside. She was no stranger to this kind of “fame” it carried the thirsty scent of capital smelling a business opportunity.

Shi Xianyu and her band had been ignored during their lifetime. Now, after being silent for over a decade, they were suddenly being crowned by media and critics with grand titles like “The Underrated Legend of an Era” and “The Pioneer of Female Rock.”

As expected, this attention brought a relentless digging into Shi Xianyu’s private life. In the days that followed, using her Weibo diaries as clues, her death, her depression, and the rift between her music and her life were heartlessly consumed and packaged into eye-catching stories.

Capital and opportunities arrived in succession.

Music festivals, commercial collaborations, interview invitations… they flew like snowflakes toward Chi Yeyu’s current band. Some even tried to contact the scattered former members of Shi Xianyu’s old band, hoping to piece together a commemorative performance.

Chi Yeyu contacted her band members in the group chat, her tone flat but unquestionable: “We will no longer perform ‘Powder Snow’ publicly. Additionally, I personally refuse to participate in any commercial collaborations or music festivals using the gimmick of commemorating Shi Xianyu.”

In the voice messages, the other three remained silent for a moment. Yu Xiu gave a light chuckle: “Deal.”

“No problem, I refuse to participate too,” Li Lingling followed.

Tiangua said, “I didn’t want to be in the spotlight too much anyway.”

Chi Yeyu gave a soft “Mm.” They didn’t need any further explanation. She remembered a conversation she once had with Shi Xianyu. Back in the band, Shi Xianyu had a chance to become famous, but she chose to preserve her individuality and passed it up. She didn’t receive the understanding of her teammates then, leaving her pain to grow and spread.

Now, that pain was being treated as a fashionable accessory, displayed in the storefront of “traffic” for all to see. Chi Yeyu would not allow her to become a consumer product after death.

On Monday, Chi Yeyu went to drop Shi Shuxue off at school. For the Nth time, she suggested that Shi Shuxue become a day student and live nearby at the villa in the evenings.

Shi Shuxue refused, still insisting on boarding.

As the car pulled up near the school gate, Chi Yeyu looked at her helplessly and helped unbuckle her seatbelt. “How are you as stubborn as Shi Xianyu?”

Shi Shuxue kept a stiff face, her gaze looking almost like a glare.

“Fine, fine. Go to school with a clear mind. I’ll take care of Grandma,” Chi Yeyu patted her head, thinking to herself that she wouldn’t see the girl for another week.

Returning to the office, Chi Yeyu was busy all day. Near the end of the workday, she realized she hadn’t eaten lunch. She pre-ordered a small cake from a dessert shop to pick up on her way home.

The shop was a recommendation from her secretary. Chi Yeyu had tried it once and liked their signature desserts. Noticing the birthday cakes on display in the window, she remembered Shi Shuxue’s birthday was coming up. She asked the clerk, “Do you make cakes that aren’t sweet?”

“Cakes that aren’t sweet?” The clerk blinked, then smiled. “Is it for a family member? We can do a custom low-sugar version. We can reduce the sugar to about 30%, so it’s not greasy at all. But honestly, the batter and cream need some sugar, or the texture gets dry and the cream won’t hold its shape. Is there an elderly person at home who doesn’t like sweets?”

Chi Yeyu said, “Yes, there is an ‘elderly person’ at the high school next door.”

At the same time, Shi Shuxue sneezed in the cafeteria.

The high school cafeteria didn’t have many seats, so students often had to share tables. As luck would have it, the person sitting across from Shi Shuxue was her class monitor.

Ci Cheng had a pocket-sized mnemonic notebook spread on the table, glancing at it every few bites. Shi Shuxue ate in silence, their table was remarkably quiet amidst the noisy cafeteria.

At the table in front of them, people were chatting about the members of the former “Screaming Goldfish” band. Ci Cheng looked up, seemingly distracted, her gaze losing focus in mid-air. Shi Shuxue glanced at her, catching her attention. Ci Cheng couldn’t help but ask, “Hey, your math is so good, why did you choose the Liberal Arts track?”

“My chemistry wasn’t great. The teacher talked to me and said my grades in Science would only be ‘excellent,’ not ‘top-tier.’ With my math and English scores, I can get into a better university by choosing Liberal Arts,” Shi Shuxue swallowed her food and laid her chopsticks flat on the tray. “But most importantly, Liberal Arts is easier to study.”

Ci Cheng closed her notebook with a “Tsk” and looked her in the eye, as if suppressing the urge to glare.

Ignoring the change in her mood, Shi Shuxue asked, “Then why did you choose Liberal Arts? You were better at Science, weren’t you?”

“You knew that?” Ci Cheng asked.

Shi Shuxue replied as if it were obvious, “Weren’t we in the same class before the tracks were split?”

“You actually remember that? I thought a ‘Study God’ like you didn’t care about anything outside your own world,” Ci Cheng curled her lip.

Shi Shuxue said calmly, “I’m not blind.”

She didn’t truly care about Ci Cheng’s reasons. She picked up her tray to take it to the return station. On the way back to the dormitory, she found a wooded area, pulled out her phone, and checked the messages Chi Yeyu had sent her.

Chi Yeyu: Is class over? What did you have for lunch? Do you want me to have someone send you something good?

Chi Yeyu: I’ll pick you up Thursday night.

Shi Shuxue first declined the offer of food, then informed her of the fact that she had evening self-study on Thursday.

Chi Yeyu: I’ll ask for leave for you.

Ever since the last time she was called in for a parent-teacher meeting, Chi Yeyu had added the homeroom teacher’s contact info and even joined the class WeChat group, acting every bit like a real guardian.

Shi Shuxue tapped open her calendar to see if there was anything special about Thursday. Only then did she realize that Thursday was her birthday. She hadn’t mentioned her specific birth date to Chi Yeyu, but she figured it wouldn’t be hard for Chi Yeyu to find information about her.

So, she simply replied with a “Good.”

Shi Shuxue’s birthday was in late November. When Chi Yeyu went to pick her up in the evening, the girl was buying roasted sweet potatoes by the roadside near the school gate. Seeing Chi Yeyu’s car stop, she walked over with the bag of sweet potatoes, opened the door, and sat down.

“I had some things to handle today, so I’m a bit late,” Chi Yeyu explained. She glanced sideways, noticing the bag Shi Shuxue was holding out, her cat-like eyes blinking. “For me?”

Shi Shuxue: “Mm.”

Chi Yeyu beamed and ruffled her hair. The latter quickly dodged and held out a hand: “Charger.”

“Phone’s dead?” Chi Yeyu plugged it in for her and asked, “Is the power bank’s capacity not enough?”

The school had always forbidden electronic devices, and the outlets in the dorms were all blocked off. To charge, one had to use a power bank. Chi Yeyu felt her conditions were too harsh and couldn’t help saying again, “Just be a day student. I’ll tell your teacher right now.”

“It’s a long way back, it wastes too much time,” Shi Shuxue shook her head.

Chi Yeyu said, “Stay at my place.”

“I don’t want to,” Shi Shuxue said.

Chi Yeyu’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, her fingertips tapping the steering wheel. “Why? Do you feel uncomfortable? I’ve said it many times, there’s no need to be formal with me. Shi Xianyu entrusted you to me.”

Shi Shuxue interrupted her: “I know, you don’t have to say it again. I know you’re this good to me because of Shi Xianyu’s request. You two went through a lot together and had a deep bond, but I don’t want to trouble you like this. This is my own matter. If your kindness toward me is solely because you ‘have to take care of her daughter,’ I can’t possibly feel at ease.”

The little goldfish ornament in the car swayed. She lowered her eyes, her gaze falling on her interlaced fingers.

If she weren’t Shi Xianyu’s daughter, and if she didn’t have a face that was seventy to eighty percent similar to hers, would Chi Yeyu still care about her and worry about her like this?

Chi Yeyu was quiet for a moment. As she was driving, she suddenly pulled over to the side of the road. She turned toward the kid in the passenger seat, staring at her downcast lashes, and asked, “Do you think I’m good to you solely because of Shi Xianyu’s entrustment? Where does she get the nerve to order me to do so much?”

“Isn’t it so?” Shi Shuxue asked back.

“Can’t it just be because I’m a good person? I’m beautiful and kind-hearted, and you’re well-behaved and likable. I like you, so I’m willing to be good to you. You can spend my money however you want, live however you’re comfortable hell, you could set off firecrackers in my rehearsal room and I wouldn’t care.”

The corner of Shi Shuxue’s mouth twitched, and her fingers trembled. “You”

“So annoying, so annoying. Don’t use ‘You’ (formal) with me anymore,” Chi Yeyu said petulantly. “I don’t even know what goes on in a kid’s head like yours. Doesn’t the internet say your generation is ruined by short videos? You’re using politeness to stab me.”

Shi Shuxue was stunned. Hadn’t Chi Yeyu been tacitly accepting that form of address? She had clearly seemed to enjoy it before.

The car began to move again. Chi Yeyu said magnanimously, “Today is your birthday. I didn’t come to pick you up just to argue. Make a wish, and I’ll grant it.”

“I still want to stay at school,” Shi Shuxue said.