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Chi Suisui wasn’t sure what other people’s married lives were like, but hers felt like that of an old married couple.
Though exhausted by the end and falling asleep quickly, she still managed to dream.
Since they’d mentioned the concert earlier in the evening, her dream revolved around it. She stood backstage in a long dress, her beloved cello beside her.
The announcer’s voice came from the front. Chi Suisui picked up her cello and walked onto the stage. After the darkness faded, a spotlight fell on her, and she played with complete abandon.
Minutes later, when the piece ended, the lights came on.
Only then did Chi Suisui notice that the vast concert hall had only one person seated—the unmistakable face of He Xingwang, sitting in the center of the front row.
In her dream, he wore a blank expression, unresponsive.
Standing on the stage, Chi Suisui looked down at him, locking eyes for a few seconds before jumping off the stage and confronting him. “Was it bad? Why didn’t you clap?”
He Xingwang gazed at her and replied, “It wasn’t good.”
She was furious.
No one had ever criticized the playing of Miss Chi, except perhaps her mother during her early days of teaching.
Chi Suisui woke up in anger.
Outside, the sky was faintly lit with dawn. Still groggy, her first instinct was to slap the man beside her.
“What’s wrong?”
He Xingwang’s voice was rough with morning hoarseness.
Chi Suisui immediately snapped awake, retracting her hand, and offered the universal excuse: “A mosquito bit me.”
“…”
Disturbed by this, He Xingwang gave up on sleep altogether. He sat up, got out of bed, and went to the bathroom to freshen up.
Chi Suisui lay in bed, stealing glances at his silhouette.
Having known He Xingwang for over twenty years and lived together for four or five, it was impossible for their relationship to resemble that of newlyweds.
So be it—an old married couple suited them just fine.
When He Xingwang emerged, Chi Suisui hadn’t moved an inch. She half-closed her eyes and watched him, looking somewhat guilty.
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
Chi Suisui sat up, feeling ashamed of the faint crescent-shaped mark on his temple caused by her slap in the dream. “Actually,” she said softly, “I dreamed you said my cello playing was bad, so I slapped you.”
“…”
He Xingwang found this explanation even harder to process than the mosquito excuse.
Seeing he didn’t respond, Chi Suisui’s guilt expanded. In a low voice, she said, “Come here. Let me massage it for you.”
“No need,” He Xingwang replied.
“Come here.”
He obliged.
Though Chi Suisui’s technique was mediocre, her skin was flawless—soft and smooth—and her gentle touch created a unique sensation.
The atmosphere grew tranquil.
After He Xingwang went to the walk-in closet, Chi Suisui finally got out of bed to freshen up. By the time she finished, He Xingwang had already changed into his clothes.
His tall figure was fully visible, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, unfastened collar buttons revealing a hint of skin.
Very sexy.
Just then, Su Mian sent a message: [Sui Sui, are you coming to work today? ]
Reluctantly pulling her gaze away, Chi Suisui replied: [Yes. ]
Su Mian, likely fearing another instance where Chi Suisui initially said no but ended up going to work anyway, had taken to asking daily like an assistant.
Chi Suisui looked up. “Take me to work on your way.”
He Xingwang hummed in acknowledgment.
He Corporation and her news agency were conveniently located along the same route, with the news agency closer to Bai’an Mansion. She preferred riding with him rather than driving herself.
After all, hitching a ride with her husband was perfectly natural.
________________________________________
The daily routine at the news agency was fairly consistent.
The exclusive interview with He Xingwang’s retirement had been conducted by their team, drawing significant attention to the official blog and public accounts.
Coupled with high-quality articles, the agency was currently thriving.
Of course, another reason for its success was its close association with Chi Suisui, whether through her work there or He Xingwang’s connection.
Now that God He had retired, where else could fans turn?
Occasionally, Chi Suisui posted snippets of her daily life or photos—a treat for her followers. Most fans had accepted He Xingwang’s retirement calmly.
As evening approached, Chi Meiyan called.
“Suisui, I’ve given it serious thought. You’ve never held a concert before—it would be perfect timing. Some young girls hold concerts in their teens.”
Chi Suisui replied, “I’m managing a news agency now.”
Chi Meiyan asked, “Do you really not want to?”
After a moment of contemplation, Chi Suisui answered, “Not for now. Besides, who knows if anyone would come? If it’s just one piece, maybe.”
A concert wouldn’t consist of only one piece.
Chi Meiyan didn’t press further.
After all, her daughter’s career wasn’t centered on music.
Still, their perspectives differed, so she sought a compromise. That’s when her former colleague, Dong He, called: “Meiyan, would you consider performing your new piece? I’m short one act to make the program even.”
Chi Meiyan’s new composition hadn’t been officially released yet, though a snippet shared among friends had garnered high praise.
“I don’t have the energy anymore,” Chi Meiyan declined politely. “If it weren’t for the country last time, I wouldn’t have performed.”
“What about Suisui? I remember her performance was excellent,” Dong He said, having known her for years without retiring herself.
“You know how busy Suisui is with her news agency,” Chi Meiyan replied.
“Suisui is your student. If you’re unwilling, ask her. She has such talent.”
Dong He had also seen Chi Suisui’s performance video and was deeply impressed.
When Chi Suisui was younger, Dong He had even considered taking her on as a disciple, but Chi Meiyan insisted on teaching her daughter personally, leading to regretful missed opportunities.
Chi Meiyan didn’t outright refuse.
Later that evening, she contacted Chi Suisui again: “Suisui, your Aunt Dong’s concert next month is short one act.”
“Aunt Dong?”
Chi Suisui was having dinner with He Xingwang, which could loosely be considered a date.
“She asked me to check if you’re interested. If not, I’ll decline on your behalf,” Chi Meiyan said.
Chi Suisui didn’t answer immediately. Beside her, He Xingwang glanced over, silently questioning.
Chi Suisui loved playing the cello, but organizing a solo concert would undoubtedly be hectic.
Aside from her school performances, she mostly practiced at home these days.
Aunt Dong hosted annual concerts, always sending tickets. Chi Suisui and Chi Meiyan attended every year.
Chi Suisui felt a flicker of interest.
Performing on stage was entirely different from practicing at home. Had she not become a journalist, she might have frequently held concerts.
The stage was exhilarating.
She murmured, “Mom, do you think I don’t want to hold my own concert, so Aunt Dong left a spot open for me?”
Like those mothers who wished to see their daughters shine brightly.
“…”
Chi Meiyan chuckled. “You’re overthinking. I wouldn’t do that.”
Chi Suisui feigned innocence. “I’m just asking.”
“It was Aunt Dong who brought it up,” Chi Meiyan said with mild exasperation. “If you don’t want to, I’ll decline. She still remembers you fondly.”
“After all, I’m both your daughter and your student,” Chi Suisui said with a sly smile. “Since Aunt Dong invited me, I’ll accept.”
Her fingers itched to play.
After hanging up, Chi Suisui looked up, inexplicably recalling her dream. “Do you have time next month?”
He Xingwang thought for a moment. “I’m free on weekends.”
Chi Suisui said, “Then come watch my performance.”
He Xingwang had overheard her response earlier and nodded. “Alright.”
“You must clap and say it was good,” Chi Suisui said, her eyes crescent-shaped with mischief. “Otherwise, you’ll sleep alone.”
“…”
He Xingwang didn’t need to think twice about agreeing to that condition.
________________________________________
Tickets for Dong He’s concert went on sale a week later.
Chi Suisui received several tickets, distributing them to Song Miaoli, Song Chengrui, Su Mian, and others, ensuring everyone attended her performance.
The program list was out, featuring her name prominently.
Chi Suisui would perform Chi Meiyan’s new composition—a cello solo divided into three parts with a single theme.
Chi Suisui had heard the piece since its inception, witnessing its journey from initial inspiration to final form.
Thus, her first attempt at playing it went smoothly.
Even Chi Meiyan was surprised by how fluidly Chi Suisui executed the piece. “Dong He was upset with me for a month because she couldn’t take you as a student back then.”
Had she succeeded, she’d have been upset for a year.
Chi Suisui smiled faintly. “Is this your way of complimenting me?”
“Would I compliment myself?” Chi Meiyan tapped her forehead lightly, then smiled warmly. “Though complimenting me isn’t entirely wrong—you are my child, after all.”
Chi Suisui laughed at her mother’s humor.
“It’s getting late. Xingwang is probably waiting in the living room,” Chi Meiyan said, segueing into another topic. “When do you two plan to have children?”
“…”
This timeless parental question lingered in the air.
Chi Suisui swiftly changed the subject, hurrying downstairs to drag He Xingwang away, fearing he’d be subjected to the same inquiry.
Once in the car, He Xingwang asked, “Why the rush?”
Chi Suisui rolled down the window, squinting her beautiful eyes. “If we didn’t hurry, Mom would’ve made us ‘try harder’ so she can have grandchildren soon.”
“Don’t you want kids?” He Xingwang glanced at her.
“Not until after the wedding,” Chi Suisui replied, turning her head. “I still want to wear a wedding dress. You wouldn’t want me walking down the aisle pregnant, would you?”
He Xingwang pondered for a moment, finding her reasoning sound.
Time flew by, and the day before the concert, someone online revealed that their father would attend a concert featuring Chi Suisui’s performance.
The internet erupted in surprise.
[???]
[Chi Suisui quietly decided to hold a concert without saying anything?]
[Technically, it’s not hers.]
[I want to see it!!! I’ve watched the S University video dozens of times. Finally, something new—so excited!]
[Tickets are still available—I’ve already bought mine.]
【Damn, I’m late! The tickets are already sold out—I’ll have to watch online.】
【There should be videos, right…?】
For cello concerts like this, only those within the music circle typically attended. Most of the audience were Dong He’s regular listeners.
This time, however, with the added buzz from online fans, concert tickets were even being resold at inflated prices on secondary platforms.
Some attendees weren’t there for the music but specifically for Chi Suisui.
Such was the power of celebrity influence.
On the day of the concert, the concert hall was packed.
Chi Suisui’s performance was scheduled as the second-to-last act. Many online fans who had come primarily to see her ended up captivated by the preceding acts.
When Chi Suisui finally appeared on stage, the audience snapped back to attention.
Today, her hair was neatly tied up, showcasing her exquisite features. As the spotlight illuminated her face, her sculpted and radiant features stood out.
She lowered her gaze and positioned the bow on the strings.
The cello’s deep and gentle tones, renowned for their richness, perfectly suited the piece—overflowing with tenderness, like a gentle breeze rippling across the surface of a lake.
The audience watched Chi Suisui’s fair, slender fingers glide across the strings, her delicate wrists complemented by the elegant contours of her figure in her formal gown.
When the piece concluded, applause erupted throughout the hall.
Chi Suisui rose gracefully, curtsied, and then lifted her head to catch He Xingwang’s gaze in the audience. She winked at him playfully.
As she turned away, she missed the faint upward curve of his lips.
Qi Xincheng and Chi Meiyan had come together. Qi Xincheng clapped so enthusiastically that his hands nearly turned red, utterly smitten with pride: “Why doesn’t Suisui hold her own solo concert?”
“Our daughter is too busy,” Chi Meiyan replied, linking arms with him.
Outside the concert hall, reporters had been lying in wait since the start, hoping to capture photos of He Xingwang attending Chi Suisui’s performance.
However, not a single trace of He Xingwang was spotted.
The concert lasted several hours, and the reporters grew weary from waiting. They gathered together to chat: “Do you think He Xingwang might not show up today?”
“It’s his wife’s performance—how could he not come?”
“Unless there’s trouble in their relationship.”
This would indeed be big news, and the reporters eagerly speculated, keeping their cameras trained on the concert hall entrance as crowds began to exit.
At that moment, one reporter suddenly dashed off.
The other reporters: “???”
Was this a betrayal?
Not long after Qi Xincheng and Chi Meiyan emerged, a reporter rushed up to them and blocked their path. “Excuse me, are you Mr. Qi of the Qi Corporation? Did you also come to attend this concert?”
“…”
This reporter had previously encountered Qi Xincheng and recognized him as the CEO of Qi Corporation. Spotting him in the crowd earlier, the reporter immediately charged over.
The fact that the CEO of Qi Corporation and his wife attended the concert together was newsworthy—even if they hadn’t captured God He.
“Are you interviewing me?” Qi Xincheng asked, bemused. “What do you want to ask?”
He was in an exceptionally good mood today and unusually approachable.
Qi Xincheng glanced at the reporter’s badge—it was from an obscure tabloid he’d never heard of.
The reporter quickly questioned him about the concert’s performances, eventually bringing up Chi Suisui’s act.
If Qi Xincheng criticized her, it would make headlines.
“…What did you think of the concert overall? Was the piece Morning worth listening to?”
Qi Xincheng initially responded with standard praise.
Dong He was an old friend of his wife, and her compositions were indeed excellent.
But when it came to Chi Suisui, his daughter, it was a different matter altogether. In his mind, she was undoubtedly the best.
Clearing his throat, Qi Xincheng declared, “Absolutely worth it! I’ve never heard such a beautiful piece. Our Suisui is not only stunning but also plays the cello beautifully—it transported me back to the serene mornings I wake up to…”
The reporter had merely intended to ask a routine question but ended up enduring several minutes of unrestrained flattery. It seemed this Mr. Qi had no intention of stopping anytime soon.
From beauty to demeanor, from attire to performance, Qi Xincheng praised Chi Suisui from every conceivable angle, elevating her to near-mythical status.
“Mr. Qi…”
“—You really should’ve gone to listen. Why didn’t you buy a ticket? If you’d bought one, you could’ve experienced it firsthand.”
“Mr. Qi…”
“What’s with interrupting me? I wasn’t finished—that’s rude.” Qi Xincheng, clearly dissatisfied at being cut off, frowned.
Chi Meiyan struggled to suppress her laughter beside him.
Reporter: “….”
Qi Xincheng solemnly added, “You don’t understand—it wasn’t just a concert; it was a feast.”
The reporter swiftly retracted the microphone: “Thank you for your response, Mr. Qi.”
Had the flattery gone too far? Surely a CEO couldn’t be bribed so easily—could it be that this Mr. Qi was genuinely infatuated with Chi Suisui?
That evening, the interview was released online.
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