She Adopted Me After My Biological Mother Passed Away - Chapter 46.1

Thinking about how her excellent student had been “snatched” by this idiot, Li Lingling fumed, pointing a finger at Chi Yeyu: “Let me see Xiao Xue, you get lost.”

“Xiao Xue’s temper was ruined by you,” Chi Yeyu pouted, handing the phone back to Shi Shuxue.

Li Lingling saw Shi Shuxue’s face, also wearing matching sunglasses, and looked at the blue sky and white clouds moving past the window behind her. She asked incredulously, “You’ve already landed? Is it that bright over there?”

Shi Shuxue glanced outside, pushed up her sunglasses, and tilted her chin up coldly: “It’s fine. Not much sun.”

“No sun but you’re both wearing sunglasses?? Inside a car!”

Chi Yeyu interjected, “Oh, Li Lingling, you don’t understand. This is fashion.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Li Lingling snapped back, then asked Shi Shuxue, “Is school out? Where are you going first?”

“Classes are over, though there’s one exam the week after next. We’re going to the hotel now,” Shi Shuxue said.

“…How many rooms did you two book?” Li Lingling asked after a moment of silence.

Seeing Shi Shuxue hold up a single finger, she let out a long, deep sigh.

Chi Yeyu was surprised: “What’s the matter, Li Lingling? We’re both girls, why would we need to book two separate rooms?”

Li Lingling said, “Beasts and humans cannot live together.”

“Who are you calling a beast!!” Chi Yeyu shouted.

Li Lingling said, “You, dear Eldest Miss Chi Yeyu. Who else could it be? Surely not the cute, well-behaved, sensible, and reliable girl next to you?”

Chi Yeyu was choked up. She pointed at Li Lingling on the screen and complained to Shi Shuxue: “Xiao Xue, look, she’s attacking my character!”

Li Lingling added fuel to the fire: “Xiao Xue, look, she’s basically an orangutan.”

Shi Shuxue’s lip twitched. She adjusted her sunglasses and advised calmly, “Sister Lingling, it’s not like that.”

Chi Yeyu was touched that she was willing to speak up for her: “Xiao Xue…”

However, Shi Shuxue shifted gears: “Orangutans don’t count as beasts.”

A burst of wild laughter erupted from the other end of the video.

The touched expression on Chi Yeyu’s face froze instantly, as if a pause button had been hit. Her sunglasses slipped to the tip of her nose without her noticing as she stared at Shi Shuxue in disbelief: “Xiao Xue?! You’re actually siding with an outsider!”

Li Lingling was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, banging on the table: “Xiao Xue is right! That’s exactly it! Chi Yeyu, you yield?”

Chi Yeyu huffed and leaned back against the seat, crossing her arms with puffed-out cheeks: “I don’t yield! Shi Shuxue, your heart has changed. You used to always help me!”

In reality, Shi Shuxue had never sided with Chi Yeyu.

Li Lingling said, “Alright Xiao Xue, ignore her. I called today just to see how you’re doing and if Chi Yeyu is being a bully. But you two seem… pretty good. I saw your last performance too, and I think….”

The topic shifted to serious business. Shi Shuxue spoke up: “I didn’t play the bass well the day before yesterday. I made several mistakes.”

“It’s fine, small mistakes, the flaws don’t overshadow the beauty,” Li Lingling’s tone softened, losing the teasing and gaining professional seriousness. “You were clearly a bit tense that day. The slides were handled a bit too hastily, and the chorus didn’t quite sync with the drums by half a beat, but the overall rhythm didn’t break. It wasn’t easy to hear.”

Shi Shuxue looked down and nodded, her fingers resting on her knees: “You’re right.”

“Oh, don’t be so guilty. I called because I was afraid you’d be like this,” Li Lingling said immediately. “Live performances are prone to accidents. Being able to stabilize the rhythm is already very good. And that solo section you arranged was very thoughtful, it pushed the song’s emotion forward.”

That part had been practiced many times, and it wasn’t her own arrangement alone. Chi Yeyu had a significant influence on it. Shi Shuxue didn’t respond immediately.

Li Lingling paused, then changed the subject: “Seriously, have you been practicing too hard lately? You look like you haven’t been resting well.”

Shi Shuxue lowered her voice: “It’s okay. Just nervous… and some sections always feel like they’re ‘missing something’.”

“Missing something?” Li Lingling caught the keyword, her tone instantly becoming serious. “Is it the technique or the feeling?”

“I can’t say for sure. I can play it smoothly during rehearsals, but on stage, the emotion gets stuck halfway. Even the melodies I’ve arranged feel like they’re lacking a bit of ‘soul’ when placed in the song.”

What she didn’t say was that the phrases Chi Yeyu had casually pointed out felt more natural with the emotions, while her own independent polishing recently felt trapped in conventional constraints.

Li Lingling was silent for a moment, pondering her words: “I see. You’ve hit a bottleneck.”

Chi Yeyu leaned in: “That’s why I brought her out to relax.”

Li Lingling was blunt: “Relax? Look at her frowning. Does she look like she’s in the mood to play?”

Shi Shuxue lowered her head. Actually, she was in the mood to play. Although she had been depressed for a while after that night’s performance, waking up today for the trip had overwritten most of it. She hadn’t touched a bass since that day.

“Xiao Xue needs someone professional who understands her style.” Li Lingling, ever the worrier, suddenly remembered something: “By the way, is your itinerary fixed? Will you be passing through S City?”

Chi Yeyu looked up: “S City? It’s in the plans. Why?”

“I know a bassist who lives there permanently,” Li Lingling said with a clear recommendation in her voice. “She’s not like those in the circle who just show off technique. She’s best at capturing emotion. Her bass lines follow the song’s veins and can quietly elevate the atmosphere. It’s incredibly impressive. She helped with the bass arrangements for an indie band’s album, you’ve definitely heard it. The bass in ‘Night Tide’ is still considered a textbook example in the industry.”

Shi Shuxue’s heart stirred.

Chi Yeyu raised an eyebrow: “That amazing? Can we go talk to her?”

Li Lingling said proudly: “She doesn’t usually take private gigs, but I have some history with her. If you can go to S City, I’ll set it up for you two to meet. Maybe she can help clear up Xiao Xue’s current confusion.”

Shi Shuxue’s expression flickered with hesitation. She did want to break the current deadlock, but adding a stop to the trip felt a bit sudden.

Li Lingling looked seriously at Shi Shuxue: “Go, Xiao Xue. She’s a very casual person. Maybe over a cup of coffee, she can point the way for you. It’ll be a huge help for your future original productions.”

Chi Yeyu saw her hesitation and immediately made the call: “Let’s go! Traveling is about being spontaneous anyway. What’s wrong with one more place?”

Shi Shuxue looked between the two of them and nodded gently: “Okay. We’ll adjust the itinerary. Sorry to trouble you, Sister Lingling.”

“No trouble at all!” Li Lingling clapped. “Wait for my news. I’ll contact her tonight. By the way, her name is Lin Canglian. She’s mixed-race and her Chinese is excellent, so you won’t need a translator.”

The video call ended. Shi Shuxue repeated the name: “Lin Canglian… I remember her. I’ve listened to the bass in ‘Night Tide’ on loop many times.”

Chi Yeyu smiled: “A bassist who can make you listen on repeat must be something special.”

Shi Shuxue nodded, looking down at her phone to find the band’s album cover to show Chi Yeyu. “Her arrangements are very restrained. Unlike some players who only care about flashy skills, her bass lines know when to hide and when to show. I’ve tried to imitate that interlude, but I always feel I lack her kind of tension.”

Chi Yeyu, rarely seeing her so focused on another bassist, reached out and ruffled her hair: “Now you have a chance to ask her in person. Isn’t that great?”

Shi Shuxue nodded, her gaze falling on the street scenes passing by the window. This city was located on a peninsula, the sky was exceptionally clean, and the roads were lined with low, white residential houses. The outlines of distant hills were faintly visible, exuding a chilly tranquility.

“But seeing you care so much about her makes me a bit jealous.” Chi Yeyu pinched her chin. “When will you worship me the same way you worship her?”

Shi Shuxue’s chin was turned toward her. Her eyes met Chi Yeyu’s smiling gaze. She glanced sideways at the driver in the front before swatting away the mischievous hand.

Chi Yeyu had no sense of maintaining distance in public. Her nose was almost touching the other’s forehead. Shi Shuxue turned her head away to look out the window.

The wooden sign for the hot spring hotel appeared at the intersection ahead. The grey-green roof was hidden among pine and cypress trees, and wisps of white steam were rising from deep within the courtyard.

She reminded her: “We’re here.”

“Really won’t worship me? I’m clearly very impressive too. I used to have so many fans, yet I only want one Shi Shuxue.” Chi Yeyu pulled at her piteously.

The car slowed to a stop. The door opened. The distant mountain peaks were still covered in thin snow, contrasting with the red lanterns in the courtyard.

Shi Shuxue picked up her small bag, intending to get out, only to find her arm still held captive by Chi Yeyu.

She pulled her arm free, took off her sunglasses with one hand, revealing eyes as black as ink that swept up over Chi Yeyu.

As she hooked Chi Yeyu’s sunglasses down, she whispered:

“In. Your. Dreams.”