Chapter Thirty: A Knot in the Heart

Because the text message voting system crashed, the most popular performance could not be announced at the end of the joint gala. However, after gathering opinions from several schools’ teachers, they decided to award the grand prize—which was originally intended for the top-voted act—to Su Yuxi. The performance by Cheng Xiaoyu and his two companions received first prize, and when Xia Shamo went on stage to accept the award, she was met with thunderous applause from the audience.

As for the award, Cheng Xiaoyu was rather indifferent, while Wang Ou felt it was a pity. Though he was the captain of the Su Goddess’s fan club, he believed that this time, Xia Shamo's group truly deserved to win.

When the evening concluded, Cheng Xiaoyu bid farewell to everyone and wished them a happy New Year. As Wang Ou left, he promised to call Cheng Xiaoyu out to hang out during the holidays, and Cheng Xiaoyu agreed. Then, remembering that Xia Shamo’s bicycle was still at the subway station, he hurriedly called her, offering to accompany her to retrieve it. Xia Shamo replied that it was fine—her mother was picking her up, and she would go home with her, so there was no need for Cheng Xiaoyu to worry. Over the phone, Cheng Xiaoyu wished her a happy New Year, to which Xia Shamo responded with a smile, wishing him the same and thanking him for such a wonderful New Year’s gift. Cheng Xiaoyu assumed she meant the crystal shoes and thought nothing of it. “No need to thank me. Remember our promise,” he said, then hung up.

Aunt Zhou hadn’t driven over; instead, Wang Huasheng picked them up in his Maybach, taking all three of them home together. Cheng Xiaoyu sat up front, with Su Yuxi and Aunt Zhou in the back.

As soon as they got in the car, Cheng Xiaoyu noticed the smile on Aunt Zhou’s face. “Not bad, Xiaoyu. You really have a talent for music. Did you compose all those pieces yourself?”

Cheng Xiaoyu hesitated inwardly but smiled and replied, “Yes, I’ve always been messing around, writing bits and pieces, but was never sure if anyone would appreciate them. I only performed this time out of necessity. Xiaoxi plays the piano so well—otherwise, I wouldn’t have thought of such a flamboyant way to perform.”

But Su Yuxi was unmoved. Calmly, she said, “You managed to create the effect of a symphony orchestra with just two instruments. That’s a talent I don’t have. Frankly, you should have received the grand prize today, not me—I wasn’t really qualified.”

Cheng Xiaoyu felt awkward at the underlying hostility in her words. “I didn’t mean it like that. I truly admire your piano skills.”

Aunt Zhou, hearing Su Yuxi’s cold tone, couldn’t help but chide her, even though she was used to her daughter’s manner. “Yuxi, is that how you speak to your brother? I don’t say anything when you’re like this outside, but to your own brother? We’ve spoiled you too much these years. Apologize to him.”

Cheng Xiaoyu hurried to interject, “Aunt Zhou, it’s fine—there’s no need to apologize. I know Xiaoxi’s temperament. I like her this way—honest and genuine, not fake. I appreciate her personality.”

Su Yuxi said nothing, turning her head to gaze out the window at the passing streets.

Aunt Zhou had never had to worry about her outstanding daughter; she’d always felt that Su Yuxi, so obedient and sensible, didn’t need much supervision. Though her temperament was a bit aloof, it hardly seemed a flaw. So she’d always let Su Yuxi be, and while her daughter resembled her father in character, she was still polite and proper in social situations. It was only with this suddenly appearing brother that Su Yuxi showed any distinct lack of friendliness. Aunt Zhou suspected there was a knot in her heart and thought she’d find time to talk to her about it, but for now didn’t insist on an apology.

After glancing at Su Yuxi a few more times, Aunt Zhou turned to Cheng Xiaoyu and said, “Xiaoyu, you’ve become so much more mature since your accident. Seeing you like this, I feel at ease. Tomorrow, you go talk to Qiao Sansi about the recording studio. I approve.”

Cheng Xiaoyu was overjoyed—having his own recording studio had always been his dream, and now that dream was about to come true. He turned to Aunt Zhou with a broad grin. “Thank you, Your Majesty, for your grace.”

Aunt Zhou laughed. “See how much better you are now? You used to be so gloomy and silent. I always felt I hadn’t taken good care of you, that it was my fault somehow. Now that you’re more cheerful, I’m happy for your father, too. He might not say it, but he cares about you. Find time to talk to him. What enmity could exist between father and son? I’m sure your mother would want you to let go.”

She sighed as she finished. She didn’t know much about Su Changhe’s past, though she’d tried to find out. In nearly twenty years of marriage, they’d never fought, never even argued—model partners. Unless he absolutely had to socialize, Su Changhe was either at work or at home, a true model husband.

So even with the existence of an illegitimate child, Zhou Peipei felt no resentment; in fact, she was rather pleased. She’d always regretted not being able to give Su Changhe a son, and thus treated Cheng Xiaoyu with genuine affection. As for inheritance issues, coming from a scholarly family, Zhou Peipei never cared. Su Yuxi had never spent a dime of the family’s money since she was old enough to understand, and likely had a tidy sum saved up from her modeling gigs. Besides, the Su family’s fortune could easily afford for Cheng Xiaoyu to indulge himself, as long as he didn’t go too far or do anything truly wrong. Zhou Peipei would never say a word against him.

Cheng Xiaoyu knew that Su Changhe was a hurdle he’d have to face, but his tangled emotions made it impossible for him to resolve things so easily. He could only give Aunt Zhou a wry smile. “Aunt Zhou, let me take my time. I believe one day I’ll be able to let it go.”

Seeing that Cheng Xiaoyu’s tone had softened, Aunt Zhou didn’t want to push any further and simply nodded. “As long as you can figure it out, that’s good. You have to understand, your father’s had it hard too.” She sighed.

There was a moment of silence in the Maybach. Then Zhou Peipei recalled that Wang Huasheng had already collected Cheng Xiaoyu’s driver’s license from the traffic police today. She pulled the license from her purse and handed it to him. Cheng Xiaoyu had gotten his American license at sixteen, then exchanged it for a local one, so he wasn’t subject to the age restrictions. “Xiaoyu, here’s your license. My Ferrari’s fixed and parked at the dealership—you can pick it up tomorrow. The repair costs and insurance are all settled, you just need to sign.”

Cheng Xiaoyu turned and took the license. “Aunt Zhou, is there a less flashy car available? I’d rather drive something low-key to school. This one’s too conspicuous.”

Aunt Zhou just smiled. “Are you worried because it was repaired? The car’s fine—just needed new headlights, fenders, and a bumper. Nothing serious. For now, just drive this one. When you get into university, I’ll buy you a nice car.”

Cheng Xiaoyu couldn’t argue further and had to agree, though he genuinely didn’t want to stand out so much.

By the time they arrived home, it was nearly midnight, and fireworks were already lighting up the sky. Cheng Xiaoyu stood at the door for a while, watching, and only went in after Su Yuxi and Aunt Zhou had gone to their rooms.

The next morning, he woke feeling refreshed. After breakfast, Cheng Xiaoyu realized that without classes, he was at a loss for what to do. So he sought out the butler, Qiao Sansi, to discuss renovating a recording studio.

Qiao Sansi knew nothing about building a recording studio, and Cheng Xiaoyu only knew the basics. He didn’t expect to build a top-tier studio, just hoped for a music workstation and a home studio, somewhere to record his own songs—a trial run for his dream of becoming a producer, and a way to fulfill his own wishes.

But to create a studio, the first priority was soundproofing, then purchasing and installing equipment. Looking at the now-empty entertainment room, Cheng Xiaoyu considered simply turning it into a piano room, since building a full studio would be quite the project, and he still had lessons and practice to attend to.

Qiao Sansi seemed to sense his hesitation and asked quietly, “Young master, do you think building a studio is too much trouble?”

Cheng Xiaoyu nodded. “Exactly. The walls need to be torn down and rebuilt for soundproofing, the floor relaid with an underlayer, the air conditioning repositioned…”

Qiao Sansi interrupted, “Young master, you don’t have to do the renovations yourself. We can hire professionals for the design and construction. Just tell me your requirements, and I’ll have them draw up the plans.”

Only then did Cheng Xiaoyu remember that he was now, undeniably, the son of a wealthy family—no need to haggle over materials at the market like before. He laughed at his own workaholic instincts. “Of course. Professional grade is enough; no need for anything over the top. Once you have the plans, show me. If possible, add a little piano room.”

Qiao Sansi assured him, “No problem, young master. Our own company does this kind of work. A recording studio is no trouble at all. Madam said to meet any requirements you have.”

Feeling triumphant, Cheng Xiaoyu returned to his room, thinking to himself that it was good to have money.

With nothing pressing to do, Cheng Xiaoyu decided to pick up the Ferrari from the dealership.

Aunt Zhou had plans to go shopping with some of her wealthy friends that morning.

Su Yuxi had started practicing piano early, even though it was New Year’s Day. It seemed she wasn’t going to rest.

As for his father, Su Changhe, he never recognized the concept of a holiday and had already gone to the office as usual.

Cheng Xiaoyu asked Wang Huasheng to check if Su Yuxi needed the car; if not, he’d have him drive to the dealership first. After a brief exchange at the door, Wang Huasheng came over to say that he’d take Cheng Xiaoyu first. Cheng Xiaoyu nodded and waited at the door for the car.

He picked up the repaired white 430 from the Ferrari dealership without a hitch, but suddenly found himself at a loss for what to do next. So he called Wang Ou, who was also bored at his grandmother’s house. Wang Ou said he wanted to learn an instrument—not too difficult. Cheng Xiaoyu recommended the guitar, but because of the general disregard for rock music and the prevailing anti-American sentiment, the guitar was also out of favor. There were seldom any guitarists in local symphony orchestras, so few people learned it, making Wang Ou a bit hesitant. Cheng Xiaoyu suggested, “I’m going to buy a guitar anyway. Come with me and have a look. If it doesn’t suit you, you don’t have to learn it.” Wang Ou agreed, and they arranged to meet on Jinling East Road’s music street after lunch. Cheng Xiaoyu then hung up and set out to grab a bite before heading to meet Wang Ou.