She Adopted Me After My Biological Mother Passed Away - Chapter 43

Shi Shuxue had been fooled by this idiot once again.

Chi Yeyu had been completely oblivious to the camera. Thinking their performance was over, she started heading over, but the moment she realized what Shi Shuxue was saying, she froze mid-motion.

She blinked, glanced at Shi Shuxue’s expression, and then peeked at the camera with its glowing red light. The hand she had half-raised swerved with unnatural smoothness, pretending to tuck a strand of her blue hair. Maintaining an eerie smile, she shuffled out of the camera’s frame inch by inch.

In the end, the livestream viewers only caught a glimpse of a defiant streak of blue hair shrinking away from the edge of the screen.

Chi Yeyu mouthed to Shi Shuxue: I… get… it…now.

[Wait… did a flash of blue just float by?]

[I saw it! It was hair! Blue!]

[Chi Yeyu?! That’s Chi Yeyu’s hair color! Is she back?!]

[Ugh, shut up already, don’t mention her, I’m leaving.]

[Didn’t they say she practically vanished off the face of the earth after leaving the group?!]

[Streaming accident! Definitely a streaming accident! But why is it so funny lol]

The bullet comments were flying wildly, but the people on-site collectively chose to turn a blind eye.

Ci Cheng patted Shi Shuxue on the shoulder. “Shuxue, for this bass line in the chorus, can we design a more complex version?”

“The current version is already very stable,” Shi Shuxue said.

“I know, but there’s a big test coming up before the New Year. It’s good to have options,” Ci Cheng said as she led Shi Shuxue away from the camera.

Tiangua said a few parting words to the livestream viewers and hurriedly shut it down.

“Your timing is really something,” Tiangua said, shooting a sideways glance at Chi Yeyu.

Facing that accusatory look, Chi Yeyu felt framed. “Wait, Gua, this is my house!!”

“Doesn’t matter, we’ve requisitioned it,” Yu Xiu said with a smile, looking at Shi Shuxue who was holding her bass. Her new instrument was a five string with an extra-long scale, the headstock extended quite a bit past her head. “Right, Xiaoxue?”

Shi Shuxue nodded. “Yeah. You should have sent a message before coming down.”

Chi Yeyu recalled the cute, emotional Shi Shuxue from their last meeting and then looked at the cold, heartless brat in front of her. She screamed “scam” in her heart.

Someone please bring back the angel version of Shi Shuxue!!

“Xiao Xue! How can you treat me like this? Sob, sob… I missed you so, so much. I wanted to see you the very second I got back. Every day, if I don’t get a ‘hit’ of Shi Shuxue, I’ll literally die.”

She was an expert at acting like a brat. She used her blazer sleeve to wipe away non-existent tears, faking a cry. She hadn’t even changed her clothes yet, showing just how rushed she had been to see Shi Shuxue.

At first, Shi Shuxue thought she was just acting out again and didn’t pay much mind. But Chi Yeyu kept her face hidden, and her voice began to warp, eventually turning into a low, weeping lament.

“Xiao Xue, to see you early today, I worked eight days straight this week. I crawled out of bed at 3:00 AM to start work and didn’t drag myself back until midnight. I didn’t even have time for a hot meal…”

Chi Yeyu had always been a workaholic, but lately, she had gone to such extremes just for her. Shi Shuxue felt a jolt of guilt, thinking she had been too harsh. She immediately tried to find a way to coax her.

She was in a different position now, she couldn’t just snap at Chi Yeyu just because Chi Yeyu was older. She had to be nicer to this person.

“Chi… Chi Yeyu, don’t be sad. I didn’t mean it like that. I was just teasing you, it was a joke.”

Shi Shuxue instinctively reached into her pocket but found nothing to soothe her. She grabbed the mints Yu Xiu had left on the table and handed them to Chi Yeyu. “Look, candy. Do you want some?”

Her coaxing skills were clumsy at best. What Chi Yeyu wanted was a hug and a cuddle, not Yu Xiu’s terrible “quit-smoking” mints. Her mood for faking tears evaporated instantly.

She raised her face, completely devoid of tear tracks and said, “Give me a hug.”

Shi Shuxue asked, “Weren’t you crying?”

“I’m fickle. I feel better now,” Chi Yeyu said, sniffing pretentiously.

Shi Shuxue realized she had been played by this idiot again.

“Chi Yeyu!” she stomped her foot in anger. How embarrassing.

Now it was Chi Yeyu’s turn to coax Shi Shuxue. She unwrapped the mint, held the little stick, and popped it into Shi Shuxue’s mouth. “Calm down, calm down. Try this, how does it taste?”

With the candy in her mouth, Shi Shuxue glared up at her. “I should never expect anything good from you.”

“Is it good? If not, spit it out,” Chi Yeyu said caringly.

Shi Shuxue spat it out.

Yu Xiu: “…”

Yu Xiu suddenly felt something was off. Recalling Chi Yeyu’s words from that night, she tugged on Tiangua’s sleeve and whispered, “I think there’s something wrong with those two.”

“Spitting out your candy is pretty ‘wrong’ I guess,” Tiangua replied.

Ci Cheng leaned in to listen as well.

“I mean their relationship,” Yu Xiu whispered, sneaking a quick look at the two bickering nearby. “Think about it. When has Chi Yeyu ever chased after someone like this? Pulling all-nighters, faking tears, playing the victim…”

The two followed Yu Xiu’s gaze and saw Chi Yeyu reach out to ruffle Shi Shuxue’s hair. The girl blushed and swatted her hand away, but as Shi Shuxue turned around, the corner of her mouth quirked up in a tiny, secret smile.

Ci Cheng whispered, “Haven’t they always been like this?”

Tiangua agreed, “Yeah, you’re overthinking it.”

“No, no, no. Even if Chi Yeyu’s behavior is ‘normal’ for her, didn’t you find it strange that Shi Shuxue actually tried to comfort her just now?” Yu Xiu pointed out.

Tiangua processed that for a moment. “Oh. That is a bit odd.”

Ci Cheng pondered but said nothing.

While they ate dinner at the restaurant, Chi Yeyu rested her chin on her hand, her eyes fixed on Shi Shuxue beside her. It felt like invisible little flowers were blooming all around her.

Shi Shuxue felt her skin crawl under the gaze. Putting down her chopsticks, she asked, “Are you full?”

“Yeah, I ate a piece of…” She suddenly remembered she had just claimed to be starving after a week of work. She swallowed the rest of the sentence.

However, Shi Shuxue wasn’t going to let her off easy. “A piece of what?”

Chi Yeyu confessed, “…A piece of strawberry shortcake.”

Shi Shuxue’s face remained expressionless.

Chi Yeyu changed the subject. Glancing at her phone, she said, “Speaking of which, I’ve never actually seen you perform live. I’ve only seen videos. I’m really looking forward to tomorrow’s performance, Xiaoxue.”

Shi Shuxue’s breath hitched. Her voice became colder than usual. “It’s just a routine performance. There’s nothing to see.”

“Live is different from online. My eyes will be following you the whole time. I’ll sit in the first row to cheer for you!”

“No need,” Shi Shuxue blurted out. Realizing she sounded too harsh, she softened her tone. “The front row is too close. It’s distracting.”

Chi Yeyu asked, “Distracting? Distracting for me or for you?”

Shi Shuxue took a sip of water. The cold liquid slid down her throat, but it couldn’t suppress the heat rising in her chest. Her fingers curled, pressing against the glass and leaving five faint white marks.

“I won’t be distracted. I’m going to record you so I can make a video to treasure and rewatch,” Chi Yeyu said. Her phone screen lit up on the table with a message.

Shi Shuxue was quiet for a long time. She pulled some napkins from under the table to wipe the cold sweat from her palms, clutching the paper into a tight ball. She said, “…Don’t have too high expectations.”

She might not be able to pull off the techniques Chi Yeyu had taught her.

Chi Yeyu didn’t seem to catch the underlying meaning and smiled. “I have total faith in a student I taught myself.”

The phone lit up again. Chi Yeyu flipped it over, still ignoring the messages.

Shi Shuxue brushed a stray hair behind her ear. Her fingers were slightly pale, and her gaze landed on the glass. The water’s surface reflected her tense jawline.

The moment Chi Yeyu mentioned the word “live,” her heart had skipped a beat. She had even forgotten how to breathe, terrified that the other woman would see through the panic hidden beneath her calm exterior.

The more Chi Yeyu trusted her, the more nervous she became. This was a feeling she had never experienced, not even during her very first, last-minute performance.

What she feared most was playing a wrong note under Chi Yeyu’s all-seeing eyes. She didn’t want that always composed, brilliant mentor to see her clumsy and cowardly side.

“I’m finished. I’m going downstairs to practice more,” Shi Shuxue said, standing up.

Ci Cheng put down a half-eaten chicken bone. “Finished already? Should I go practice with you?”

“No, I want to practice alone for a bit. You guys take your time,” Shi Shuxue said.

Chi Yeyu looked up at her. A flash of faint realization crossed her eyes, her amber pupils reflecting the clear liquid in her glass like gems in a spring.

Their eyes met, and Shi Shuxue made sure to address her specifically: “Chi Yeyu, I’m going.”

“Go ahead. Don’t stay up too late, or I’ll come down and catch you,” Chi Yeyu replied.

Shi Shuxue gave a soft “mm” and left.

Once Shi Shuxue was out of sight, Chi Yeyu picked up her phone and switched to her chat with Yu Xiu.

[Yu Xiu: She’s nervous.]

[Yu Xiu: Shuxue is a bit afraid to play in front of you.]

Chi Yeyu smiled and typed back.

[Chi Yeyu: I know.]

[Yu Xiu: She’s a bit intimidated by you when it comes to music.]

Chi Yeyu looked at Yu Xiu across from her, who was leisurely stirring a glass of honey water.

[Chi Yeyu: That’s something she has to overcome herself.]

The night before the performance, worried about her condition the next day, Shi Shuxue finished practicing by 8:00 PM and went back to her room.

She rolled around on the bed, wrapping herself in the duvet like a cocoon. She poked one hand out to grab her phone, logged into her alt account as usual, and wrote a short essay.

After posting it, she scrolled through her feed and saw a drum cover edit from one of Chi Yeyu’s old fans.

She recognized the performance just from the thumbnail. Even though she had heard it countless times, she still put on her headphones and clicked.

So loud, so good.

She sighed. If only Chi Yeyu weren’t the person who brought her into this world.

“If only I were Chi Yeyu’s teacher instead,” Shi Shuxue daydreamed, accidentally saying her thoughts out loud.

Chi Yeyu, who had just entered the room, was surprised. “No way, Xiao Xue. You want to be my teacher?”

Shi Shuxue’s ears turned beet red. She threw a pillow at her. “Get out! Who told you to listen?”

Chi Yeyu was quick, catching it with one hand. With a beaming smile, she leaned in to kiss her. Before long, Shi Shuxue softened up like a little rice cake bundle wrapped in a blanket, her face flushed.

Chi Yeyu teased, “Professor Shi, this won’t do. Giving in after just a moment? You’re so easy on me.”

Shi Shuxue’s lips were red and glistening. She snapped, “Don’t call me ‘Professor’.”

“Isn’t this what you like? I can keep calling you that if you want.” Chi Yeyu pressed her forehead against Shi Shuxue’s to check for a fever. Finding none, she lifted the duvet and crawled in herself.

Her hands were cold from just washing them. Shi Shuxue shivered and tried to push her out.

“Stay still or you’ll catch a cold,” Chi Yeyu pinned her back down, flicking her forehead. “Professor Shi has such a bad temper. Hitting me, yelling at me, and resisting me every day.”

Shi Shuxue’s temple throbbed. She grabbed Chi Yeyu’s restless hand, her eyebrows knitting together. “Stop calling me that.”

“Fine, I thought you wanted to hear it,” Chi Yeyu said, adding a heavy hint. “Just like how I want to hear you call me ‘Sister Yeyu.’ You used to call me that all the time when you were little.”

“I don’t remember,” the cruel Shi Shuxue replied.

Chi Yeyu stared at her intensely.

Shi Shuxue couldn’t take the gaze. She buried her face lower and mumbled a syllable: “R…”

“What?” Chi Yeyu asked.

Shi Shuxue’s cheeks were burning. She gripped the blanket and whispered, “…Rao le wo ba (Spare me).”

Chi Yeyu’s pupils trembled, her long lashes fluttering. A sudden urge to tease her more surged within. Shi Shuxue was going to be the death of her.

After holding her breath in the covers for about twenty seconds, Shi Shuxue poked her head out again. Her expression had returned to its usual coldness and calm. “Chi Yeyu.”

Chi Yeyu responded immediately, “What is it?”

“Are you busy with work tomorrow?” she asked.

Chi Yeyu said, “It’s okay. I can definitely make it to your performance in the evening.”

A tiny trace of collapse appeared in Shi Shuxue’s expression. Her mouth twitched as she forced a stiff face. “If you’re busy, don’t force yourself. Just rest at home and wait for me to come back.”

Chi Yeyu said, “I told you, I’m not busy. My schedule is quite open.”

Organizing her next words was incredibly difficult for Shi Shuxue. She droned on tonelessly, “You’ve worked too hard lately. Working eight days a week, not getting enough sleep… it’s bad for your health. Don’t push it…”

Chi Yeyu said, “I’m not pushing it. I really don’t have anything important to do tomorrow.”

Shi Shuxue acted like she hadn’t heard her. “Chi Yeyu, you haven’t been eating properly lately, have you? Look how thin you are. I’m so worried. You should stay home and eat a good meal.”

“Wait, you’re one to talk?” Chi Yeyu asked in disbelief, leaning over to pinch Shi Shuxue’s cheeks. “Aren’t you the thinner one? We can discuss where to have the celebration dinner after the show.”

“I’m not thin! My BMI is normal!”

Shi Shuxue stayed focused on her goal. “Can you… just not come to the performance tomorrow?”

“Why? I won’t be recognized by the band’s fans. I’ll wrap myself up completely and won’t say a word!” Chi Yeyu raised three fingers as if making a vow.

“It’s not that, it’s…” Shi Shuxue’s words felt like they were being squeezed through her teeth. She wanted to confess to Chi Yeyu, but she didn’t want to make it seem like she was an exception. She hedged, “I can’t stand people watching me from the audience.”

“…Eh?” Chi Yeyu asked. “Then what about the thousands of other audience members? Are they not people? Or are you going to kick them all out, too? Strange, this isn’t your first time on stage, is it? Why would you…”

Shi Shuxue felt her skin crawl under the questioning. She gripped the bedsheets and interrupted, “They don’t matter.”

“They don’t matter… so it’s only me that matters?” Chi Yeyu leaned in close, her nose almost touching Shi Shuxue’s, her gaze laid bare.