She Adopted Me After My Biological Mother Passed Away - Chapter 20

“That wasn’t just pocket money I gave you.”

Shi Shuxue remained silent for a moment. Chi Yeyu waited quietly for her to speak.

“…Zhao Qingyuan came to see me just now.”

The sound of rustling paper on the other end of the line stopped abruptly. Chi Yeyu’s pleasant demeanor vanished instantly, her voice dropping like a layer of frost: “What did he want? He didn’t lay a hand on you, did he? Did he say anything nasty to provoke you?”

Shi Shuxue leaned against the window ledge in the stairwell, watching the withered leaves drifting below. “No, he didn’t touch me. He wanted me to go on an interview, saying he’d help you clarify things. He also mentioned Shi Xianyu… I ignored him.”

Hearing this, Chi Yeyu felt a bit more at ease. Although Shi Shuxue was usually quiet, she had a clever head on her shoulders. “You did the right thing by not agreeing. Those kinds of trashy interviews are nothing but trouble.”

Shi Shuxue: “But you…”

“Me? I’m fine. I don’t need you to clarify anything,” Chi Yeyu said.

Shi Shuxue didn’t respond, her fingers picking at the peeling paint on the windowsill.

Chi Yeyu softened her voice. The rhythm of her fingertips tapping on the desk came through the receiver like a beat. “Don’t let him ruin your mood, it’s not worth it. Remember? Last week you said you wanted to learn the drums. I’ll teach you personally this weekend. Once we’ve learned, we’ll play for Grandma.”

Shi Shuxue’s ears twitched slightly, and she gave a soft “Mm.”

The weekend sun was thinner than the week before. After Shi Shuxue finished hanging her laundry on the balcony, Chi Yeyu couldn’t wait to lead her to the basement rehearsal room to teach her the drums.

“First is the grip. Use your thumb and index finger to pinch about one-third of the way up. Let the rest of your fingers curl naturally. Natural…yeah, that’s it. Just hold it like you’re gripping a ping-pong ball.”

Shi Shuxue followed the instructions, but her fingers were stiff. The drumstick slipped twice before she managed to hold it steady. Chi Yeyu squatted beside her, holding her wrist to adjust her posture, patiently saying: “Relax. The drums won’t run away. Next, I’ll introduce you to the structure of the kit. Basically…”

She thought for a second, pointing and introducing them one by one: “This round one is the snare drum. It makes a ‘da-da-da’ sound, very crisp, like biting into a crunchy jujube. The one at your feet is the bass drum; try stepping on it hard. These ones on the side are cymbals. This is the ride, used for keeping rhythm, and this is the crash. We’ll practice a simple song later, and you’ll understand once you hit them.”

Shi Shuxue nodded, her gaze following Chi Yeyu’s finger across the drum set. There was little ripple in her dark eyes as she repeated “snare, bass drum, ride cymbal” in her head. This was her first time being so close to a drum kit, and the sticks were heavier than she expected.

“Let me think… what’s next? Right, reading music.” Chi Yeyu found a piece of paper and drew circles and vertical lines. “Hollow circles mean a light hit, solid circles are heavy hits, like the snare and bass drum. The vertical lines divide into four beats one, two, three, four. Count with me. Step on the bass drum on ‘one,’ and hit the snare on ‘two’ and ‘four.’ Want to try?”

Chi Yeyu had learned the drums through unconventional methods herself and had never taught anyone before. She dug through her brain for things her old band’s drummer had taught her and began the lesson.

Shi Shuxue gripped the sticks and stared at the sticky note. When Chi Yeyu started counting, her foot followed. The bass drum let out a dull “thud.” On ‘two,’ her stick landed on the snare. Catching a glimpse of Chi Yeyu smiling out of the corner of her eye, Shi Shuxue’s hand slipped. By ‘four,’ the stick flew right out of her hand and rolled under the chair.

Chi Yeyu bent down to retrieve the stick and handed it back. “It’s fine. When I was practicing, my sticks used to fly out and hit people all the time.”

Shi Shuxue’s ears turned red. “Again.”

Chi Yeyu counted again, and this time she didn’t make a mistake. After practicing like this a few times, Chi Yeyu asked, “Are there any songs you like?”

Shi Shuxue said, “The ones you usually play.”

Chi Yeyu thought for a moment. “How about Don’t Cry? You’ve heard me play it, and it’s relatively simple.”

“Try to find the beat. Listen to me hum: ‘Don’t cry tonight.’ After that line, step on the bass drum… follow the rhythm of my humming.” She hummed softly, the ending notes floating in the air.

Shi Shuxue stared at Chi Yeyu’s lips. As the lyrics drifted away, her foot pressed down. The bass drum gave a muffled thud, but her hand was half a beat late. The stick hit the snare with a jarring, off-beat “clatter.”

“No, no, the foot was too fast.” Chi Yeyu leaned over, grabbing Shuxue’s wrists with both hands to help adjust the rhythm. “Look, after the last word ends, count ‘one’ in your heart, then step. Your hand follows with the ‘two’ hit, like this..”

She guided Shi Shuxue through it once. The rhythm was stable, but as soon as she let go, Shi Shuxue fell into chaos again. While hitting the drums, her whole body swayed when she stepped on the pedal, and she couldn’t coordinate her hands and feet while looking at the sheet music.

When the round ended, Shi Shuxue looked up at Chi Yeyu silently.

“Let me demonstrate once. Watch how my hands and feet move.” Chi Yeyu simply picked up another pair of sticks and sat at the kit. With a flick of her wrists, the sticks became a blur over the drumheads.

Her movements were effortless and cool, the embodiment of the flamboyant, sharp drummer she was on stage.

In contrast, Shi Shuxue suddenly felt like a new employee at a fast-food restaurant, frantic and constantly making mistakes. When she focused on the music, she forgot to hit the drums when she thought about the snare, she forgot the bass drum. The disobedient sticks refused to land where they were supposed to go.

“See? Not that hard, right?” Chi Yeyu put down the sticks and turned to her with a smile.

Shi Shuxue gripped the sticks with a blank expression and took a deep breath to try again. This time she missed fewer beats, but the playing was completely disorganized heavy one moment, light the next, as if she were smashing walnuts. She even forgot the wrist relaxation Chi Yeyu had emphasized, making her knuckles ache.

“Don’t use so much force, be gentler.” Chi Yeyu quickly took her hand, rubbing the back of it. Seeing the reddened knuckles, she felt a bit of heartache.

Shi Shuxue said expressionlessly, “It’s hard.”

Chi Yeyu pondered, suddenly realizing a possibility: “Xiaoxue, are you… uncoordinated?”

Shi Shuxue went silent, staring back with a stiff face.

“How were you at doing the school calisthenics?”

Shi Shuxue retorted, “You’re teaching too fast.”

“Too fast? But that’s how I learned.” Chi Yeyu thought for a moment and asked, “Have you ever studied other instruments before?”

“No,” Shi Shuxue said.

Chi Yeyu was surprised. She assumed Shi Xianyu would have taught Shi Shuxue some instruments, given how that woman pursued art with such feverish passion. She hadn’t expected her to have taught the child absolutely nothing.

Typical Shi Xianyu, never even thinking about giving her own kid a head start.

Seeing Chi Yeyu’s strange expression, Shi Shuxue asked, “You’ve studied others before?”

“Um… I studied piano for about ten years. My family forced me to. Then the drums, I learned those after meeting Shi Xianyu. Later I messed around with guitar and bass with the others, but I’m best at the drums,” Chi Yeyu said.

Shi Shuxue was stunned. “So… you know how to play everything?”

She had noticed before that Chi Yeyu’s popularity in the band was unparalleled. Fans weren’t just captivated by her looks and stage presence; they emphasized her “hardcore” versatility. From drumming and guitar to songwriting and arranging, she could do it all.

It was just that she hadn’t chosen to debut or take the band to a larger stage; the four of them just stayed together for fun.

“I’ve been around instruments for many years. If you had started young, you could do it too. I didn’t take that into account. I taught too fast,” Chi Yeyu said.

Taking Shi Shuxue’s zero base experience into account, she slowed down significantly. After practicing for over an hour, the doorbell rang. Someone was at the door.

Chi Yeyu withdrew her hand from Shi Shuxue’s shoulder and said, “I’ll go up and check. You keep practicing.”

The cool winter sunlight fell across the entryway. Shi Shuxue’s shoulder bag hung on the coat rack, and a basket of crunchy persimmons Chi Yeyu had bought that morning sat by the door, the white frost on the skin still visible.

A figure peered in from outside, brown shirt, green tie. Perhaps this was Zhao Qingyuan’s idea of fashion. He didn’t wait for an invitation, squeezing himself in and glancing around until his eyes landed on a pink bubble-fish toy that looked like it belonged to a child.

“A rare guest,” Chi Yeyu said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe, her tone distant. “Something wrong?”

“President Chi, let’s talk.” He smiled. “I won’t bother with pleasantries. I’ll get straight to the point: I haven’t completely given up custody of Shuxue. I must take her to the interviews next week and the week after. She’s young and doesn’t understand things, don’t get in the way of us father and daughter. This is a family matter.”

The corners of Chi Yeyu’s mouth curled into a cold, mocking arc. “What kind of benefits did Xinglong Entertainment give you to make you go to such lengths to drag Shi Shuxue into this?”

“That’s none of your business. Little President Chi, give her to me. It’ll be good for both of us,” Zhao Qingyuan whispered, unable to hide his urgency.

Chi Yeyu sneered. “I don’t care about those ‘benefits.’ You already handed her over to me. Isn’t it a bit late to come asking now?”

“I entrusted her to you, but I was forced by circumstances. There was a huge hole in the company that needed filling, and I was at a dead end… but I am her biological father, after all. That blood relation isn’t something you can just cut off.” Zhao Qingyuan rubbed one foot against the floor and said, “President Chi, I call you ‘President’ out of respect for you and the Chi family behind you, but your hand shouldn’t reach so far into our family affairs.”

The villa was perfectly soundproofed; not a sound of Shi Shuxue practicing could be heard on the first floor. Zhao Qingyuan’s eyes darted around, noting the shoes in the entryway and the signs of daily life in the living room. He couldn’t help but ask, “Shuxue is home, right?”

At the mention of Shi Shuxue, Chi Yeyu’s pale amber eyes turned cold as ice. She emphasized the last few words: “Whether she’s here or not is none of your damn business. She belongs to my house now. What happens between me and her is our family business.”

She glared at Zhao Qingyuan, looking at his attempt to maintain a dignified appearance. Recalling something amusing, she arched an eyebrow. “That one million I wired to you all at once recently… you spent it that quickly? That wasn’t just pocket money I gave you. Your statement waiving custody is still sitting right there in my drawer.”