Chapter Sixty-Three: An Encounter Across Time and Space

In the eyes of everyone, Su Yuxi had always possessed an aura of transcendence, removed from worldly affairs. Apart from the proper respect she showed her elders, she treated all others with equal indifference, never displaying even the slightest hint of preference. Yet all believed this attitude of hers was entirely natural.

Everyone knew, too, that Su Yuxi disliked idle, ignorant playboys.

Su Hongwen still remembered last summer, when Su Yuxi came to Beijing to compete in a piano contest and stayed at the old family home for over a month. Besides Jiubao Mountain, this stretch of alleyways was another gathering place for the elite of China. Su Yuxi’s arrival caused a sensation among the children of the country’s powerful red families.

That was also the period when Su Hongwen felt most proud. Every day, people invited him to dinner, eager to learn more about his little sister.

Yet, after half a month, not a single person had managed to get close to Su Yuxi in the slightest. Her reputation spread through the circles of the younger generation, and everyone knew the Su family’s extraordinary and beautiful girl was not only aloof but cold.

There were even bets placed, gambling on how long it would take for someone to invite Su Yuxi out.

In truth, these wagers merely provided a legitimate excuse for these young men to approach her.

From that day on, the Su family’s courtyard was in constant chaos—people inventing all sorts of reasons to visit. Some came to borrow soy sauce. Others waited for rainy days to come and ask for an umbrella. Some deliberately tossed things into the yard just to come in and retrieve them. But most frequently, all sorts of notes and letters were thrown over the wall, so much so that the cleaning aunties were endlessly annoyed.

These were all low-level tactics. Later, more refined approaches appeared: some claimed family ties to observe Grandfather Su’s calligraphy and paintings, some came to borrow books, others frankly said they were there to mooch a meal. There were even those who played piano and wanted to exchange skills with Su Yuxi. After one such exchange, it was said the boy never played piano again.

Yet, as the summer drew to a close, no one had succeeded in inviting Su Yuxi out.

She had become a throne in the hearts of the red children, a mountain of ice they could never cross.

Of course, it wasn’t entirely true that no one had succeeded. At least Gu Xue Ren, the grandson of the current Premier, managed it—though by cheating, which left him satisfied for days. The Gu and Su families belonged to the same faction and were on good terms. Gu Xue Ren shamelessly begged his mother to invite Su Hongwen’s mother to dinner, claiming it was for the younger generation to connect, and insisted the whole younger Su family attend, especially mentioning Su Yuxi. Thus, Su Yuxi met Gu Xue Ren without knowing the true purpose.

Gu Xue Ren had never seen Su Yuxi before, but her reputation in the circle was legendary. As the leader of his group, he went to great lengths to invite her, wanting to gain face against the military compound crowd. Before this, he doubted she could ever attract him.

Afterward, he deeply reflected on his mistake. Unfortunately, no matter how he tried to get close, he made no progress. He got Su Yuxi’s number from Su Hongwen and sent countless texts, but she never replied. He visited the Su family compound countless times but rarely saw her—she was always practicing piano behind closed doors. Gu Xue Ren even befriended Su Hongwen just to get closer, but Su Yuxi didn’t give Hongwen much face either; she never agreed to any request made through him.

This only deepened Gu Xue Ren’s obsession, a man who had always excelled, handsome, proud, and outwardly humble. He once believed no one was worthy of him and that his marriage should serve politics. Now, he felt only Su Yuxi was worthy—no one else. His worldview overturned, Gu Xue Ren became utterly infatuated.

Every day, he reported to the Su family on time, reading their books, practicing calligraphy, sitting outside the music room listening to Su Yuxi play, though she paid him no mind.

Su Yuxi had a habit of morning runs. Gu Xue Ren, trying to get close, would follow her every day, hoping for just a greeting.

One morning, Lin Yihua—the youngest son of the chairman of China Petroleum—drove his Lamborghini, accompanied by a dozen supercars from his club, to intercept Su Yuxi. The fleet surrounded her as she ran, crawling along at her pace, drawing a crowd of onlookers.

Forced to stop, Su Yuxi watched as Lin Yihua opened his scissor doors, stepped out clutching a string of heart-shaped balloons. Someone opened the trunk, revealing speakers, and romantic music began to play. Then all the supercars opened their doors, releasing a cascade of colorful balloons that blocked the rising sun.

Lin Yihua, impeccably dressed, walked over with the balloons. Before he could speak, Su Yuxi tossed him to the ground with a swift shoulder throw. Afterward, she dusted off her hands and, coolly addressing the fallen Lin Yihua, said, “I detest you frivolous, ignorant playboys the most,” then continued her run with flair.

This scene was recorded by countless onlookers and uploaded to major forums. The video went viral, pinned on every major site, even reposted as news by portals, causing a sensation. The clip of Su Yuxi, dressed in hot shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers, tossing Lin Yihua, paired with the classic line “I detest you frivolous, ignorant playboys the most,” became an animated meme and the catchphrase of 2008.

Su Yuxi was dubbed the “Supercar Goddess” by netizens.

Afterward, Su Yuxi signed as an exclusive model for “Ruixin,” mainly because the editor-in-chief was her mother’s longtime friend and the offered price was irresistible. She had long possessed a keen sense of financial independence.

Yet few knew what happened next. Gu Xue Ren, following behind, grabbed a folding stool from a nearby breakfast vendor and smashed Lin Yihua’s Lamborghini P-670 to pieces. Lin Yihua’s reputation in Beijing was poor—wealthy, sweet-talking, and skilled at romance, he’d played with many girls. Gu Xue Ren, though not in the same circle, knew him; after all, China Petroleum was under his grandfather’s jurisdiction.

Lin Yihua could only watch as Gu Xue Ren destroyed his car, unable to retaliate. Luckily, only the windshield, headlights, and some body panels were damaged, costing less than a million to repair.

This episode became a laughingstock among the elite. It made clear to all that the usually arrogant Gu Xue Ren was dead serious this time.

From then on, Su Yuxi was never bothered again—at least not until the end of summer, when she returned to Shanghai.

The new semester saw Lin Yihua sent abroad by his father.

If not for the fact that Su Yuxi was still in high school and Gu Xue Ren already a university freshman, Gu Xue Ren would have transferred schools. He’d already decided: wherever Su Yuxi went for college, he’d pursue his graduate studies there.

By all accounts, Cheng Xiaoyu was the sort of playboy even more annoying than Lin Yihua—at least Lin Yihua was reasonably good-looking. Though his reputation was poor, at least he hadn’t crashed his car or caused trouble. Cheng Xiaoyu, however, had bad grades, caused mischief, and flaunted his luxury cars arrogantly.

In their minds, Su Yuxi would never treat someone special just because he was her brother. Such a personality made everyone believe that, in the eyes of someone so cold, principled, and intolerant of flaws, Cheng Xiaoyu should be the person she loathed most.

They were not wrong in their understanding of Su Yuxi, but their perception of Cheng Xiaoyu was entirely different from hers.

Cheng Xiaoyu’s repeated displays of talent made Su Yuxi increasingly aware that this unexpected brother was shrouded in mystery.

Before Cheng Xiaoyu, no one her age liked classical music or could discuss philosophy in German with her.

Cheng Xiaoyu’s symphonic adaptation of pop music completely overturned her view of popular music. His self-composed and performed “Dragon Gate Inn” astounded her.

The magnificent poetry Cheng Xiaoyu wrote allowed her, who’d never cared for verse, to glimpse the beauty of words. She especially loved the line, “The night has given me black eyes; I use them to seek the light.”

Bit by bit, Cheng Xiaoyu stripped away her image of him as a good-for-nothing, revealing a dazzling inner self. For the first time, his presence made her feel less lonely. She’d always believed herself to be a misunderstood, solitary existence. Now, it was as if God had sent her a kindred spirit, someone vibrating on the same frequency. Philosophy, German, and music bridged two worlds.

All this made Su Yuxi want to decipher Cheng Xiaoyu. She even wondered if this was what science calls “genetic sexual attraction”—a psychological phenomenon where family members who have not grown up together, upon meeting, may feel strong mutual attraction, even fall in love. Though normal, it is not socially accepted. Of course, Cheng Xiaoyu’s appeal to Su Yuxi was not in the sense of sexual attraction, but rather that of a lonely planet suddenly discovering another of its kind—a desire to observe and communicate.

So, when Su Yuxi offered to take a taxi with Cheng Xiaoyu, everyone was stunned. Even Su Weilan doubted whether this was truly the same Su Yuxi, so devoid of warmth.

Later, they assumed Su Yuxi merely pitied Cheng Xiaoyu, not realizing that her feelings were those of recognition.

Recognition as a kindred spirit.