The cry from Mao Xinci came from the depths of her heart, brimming with sincerity.
Her daughter, however, froze in surprise.
"Boss Gu?"
This was the first time she had heard that name.
...
The next morning at eight, the man who had drunk himself into a stupor the night before finally woke up, rubbing his stomach as a dull ache pulsed through it. He had drunk too much yesterday, eaten greasy food, and with Mao Xinci gone, his meals had been irregular.
A sudden wave of irritation washed over him. He sat up in bed and shook his head. Mao Xinci should have returned last night, but he had fallen asleep too early—he hadn’t spoken to her, hadn’t even told her what dishes to prepare today.
Yesterday, he had treated a few of his martial arts brothers to a meal, but today was the truly important day—his former superior was coming over. He had already bragged to the old man about how his wife cooked the best meals, especially her sweet and sour spare ribs.
The superior had been delighted, saying he wanted to drop by for a taste of home-cooked dishes.
But he hadn’t even told Mao Xinci to buy groceries and fruit for their guest…
The man climbed out of bed and pushed the door open, only to find the living room empty and silent. There was no sound of Mao Xinci bustling about in the kitchen.
He paused, then turned to look at the crib—it, too, was empty. No sign of his youngest daughter.
What was going on? The strange scene left him bewildered. He racked his brain, wondering if there was some school event for their elder daughter that Mao Xinci had gone to attend.
With that thought, he stood in the living room, hands on his hips, and picked up his phone to call Mao Xinci.
But no matter how many times he tried, the call wouldn’t connect.
The number you have dialed is currently switched off.
The number you have dialed is currently switched off.
The cold, automated voice repeated itself over and over. His frown deepened. What was Mao Xinci up to now? How irresponsible—leaving without a word, knowing full well they had plans today?
For some reason, he turned and glanced at his daughter’s bedroom door. Almost instinctively, he pressed down on the handle and pushed it open.
His pupils contracted in shock.
Empty!?
The entire room had been cleared out.
Where had they gone?
Panic set in. He frantically dialed Mao Xinci’s number again, then called her parents, then the school.
But it wasn’t until he spoke to the teacher that he received the unbelievable news:
"Oh, your daughter was absent today. She mentioned she might be transferring schools—you didn’t know?"
The man stood rooted to the spot, as if struck by lightning.
What was happening? Where had they gone?
Transfer schools? Transfer where?!
Mao Xinci hadn’t taken the train. This time, she had hired a moving truck. Before dawn, she had packed everything and loaded it into the back.
The highway to Haishi was much faster—just four or five hours. With all her belongings in tow, she had completed a daring escape.
Her daughter sat in the passenger seat, the wind whipping through her bangs. Even now, she stared at her mother in a daze.
She didn’t say much, didn’t ask much.
In fact, there was a faint, excited curiosity about the unknown future ahead. As she gazed into the distance, the corners of her lips curled into a small smile.
It was then that Mao Xinci knew she had made the right choice. She had always worried that if she failed to hold the family together, her daughter would suffer from growing up in a broken home.
But her daughter’s reactions had repeatedly shown her that maintaining the family wasn’t what made her happy. Only by reclaiming her own identity and freedom could she truly bring her daughter joy.
—How do you destroy a mother?
Perhaps it takes many steps—social ostracism, familial exploitation, emotional neglect. Deliberate or unconscious violence, the numbing grind of daily chores.
This was the most ordinary marriage, the most ordinary yet soul-crushing existence.
But how do you rebuild a mother?
Her child’s unhappiness is enough.
First, she cut off all contact. Once they arrived in Haishi, her assistant, Little Zhao, forwarded her a few rental listings. Mao Xinci decided to prioritize finding a school.
After confirming that one school would accept her daughter’s transfer, she immediately paid the tuition. Once the enrollment and academic requirements were settled, she chose the nearest available apartment.
Her daughter watched in bewilderment as she hurried about.
Only when she saw her mother walk out of the principal’s office, chatting amiably with the dean before handing her a form to collect her uniform, did it truly sink in—her fate had changed.
—Because of that Boss Gu.
Gu Zhaoping hadn’t set out to alter anyone’s destiny. She simply acted when she saw fit, offering fair terms in return. Passing her scrutiny wasn’t easy, but those who did received market-rate compensation.
Gu Zhaoping’s own time was precious, and so were those who provided value to her. Recognizing their worth was, in essence, recognizing her own.
...
When Tan Li returned home that day, he clutched his bruised face, wincing in pain. A glance in the mirror confirmed the swelling—those amateurs had no sense of restraint.
Remembering the posts he’d made online, his expression darkened further.
Though the leaked footage from that obsessive fan had temporarily softened public opinion of Gu Zhaoping, there were still troublemakers keeping tabs—especially on the supposed duel between her and Tan Li of Tan's Dojo.
No one took it seriously, of course, but the spectacle was too entertaining to ignore.
[Has the blogger gone MIA? Did he actually go through with the challenge?]
[I’m dying to know—what’s Gu Zhaoping’s actual skill level? Could she last even a round against a pro like this guy?]
[Isn’t Brazilian jiu-jitsu supposed to be the ultimate women’s self-defense? What if she actually knows it and manages to counter him?]
[I’ve said it before—people pushing BJJ as some miracle self-defense are downright sinister. If women think they can actually fight off attackers and end up getting hurt, whose fault is that? The only real self-defense is running. Don’t resist—struggling just provokes them…]
[Enough arguing! Blogger, are you there? Tan Li from Tan's Dojo—did you actually challenge Gu Zhaoping or not?]
The internet was a cacophony of voices.
Most were just here for the show. No one actually believed this duel would happen.
Since that initial post, Tan Li’s personal account had been a whirlwind of bravado—reposting technique clips, advertising his dojo’s classes, the epitome of desperate self-promotion.
But after that day, for some reason, he stopped posting altogether, prompting netizens to ask: [Teacher Tan, why aren’t you posting anymore? Did Gu Zhaoping’s words shut you up too?]
Just then, Tan Li, who had been silent all this time, suddenly seemed triggered and immediately jumped in to reply to the comment.
[Stop asking, just stop! All you do all day is stir up drama online—don’t you have jobs or school to focus on? Anything better to do?]
Tan Li lashed out, clearly agitated.
[Spend less time worrying about other people’s fights and more time improving yourselves!]
Netizens were stunned. Wasn’t this just a casual question like before, just to enjoy the drama? Hadn’t Tan Li been all fired up earlier, ready to throw hands with Gu Zhaoping?
What was going on now? Why the sudden change of tone?
Now you’re pretending to care about self-improvement?
Who’s the one who really needs to improve here? The netizen was so furious they could practically taste blood.
A flood of onlookers swarmed in, attacking Tan Li for being spineless, clout-chasing, and failing to see things through.
Tan Li stared at the comments, blood pressure spiking, and finally tossed his phone aside, unable to take it anymore.
You all just love the drama, don’t you?
You get your entertainment—but what about me?
If I keep indulging you, I’ll be the one starring in the village’s biggest spectacle!
While the online frenzy raged on, Fang Yining only now noticed how quickly the tide had turned.
She was baffled.
“Zhaoping studied jujitsu? And plays chess? And stargazing—wait, does she mean astrology?” Fang Yining was completely lost. She’d known Gu Zhaoping for years, and in recent times, they’d practically been inseparable—she knew her better than her own mother. How could she not know any of this?
Unless Gu Zhaoping had been secretly grinding in her sleep—studying in her dreams?
She called Gu Zhaoping: “Zhaoping, where did you learn all these skills?”
Fang Yining was still reeling. “Seriously, are these even real? How could I not know? You’ve been hiding things from me! The internet’s going wild—now I’m curious too.”
Gu Zhaoping shrugged it off casually. “Picked them up in college.”
She’d spent several years abroad during university, so no one could verify what she’d done back then. It was a perfect cover.
But Fang Yining was even more confused. She distinctly remembered Gu Zhaoping spending those years shopping for her overseas—they’d gone on island vacations every break.
Whatever. If her girl said it, she’d back her up, even if it was pure bluffing.
“Fine. But have you coordinated with your third brother? He’s been in North America too—he knows you better than Gu Zhaoye does. Let’s just hope the little rebel doesn’t spill your secrets.”
Fang Yining rambled on, worried, but Gu Zhaoping wasn’t concerned. Every skill she’d claimed was something she’d mastered to a professional level—she wouldn’t have mentioned them otherwise.
But—“Third brother?”
Gu Zhaoping paused.
“Yeah, Gu Zhaosi. Wasn’t he studying at that music school? He should be graduating this year. Oh, and he might be coming back to China—does your family know?” Fang Yining sounded almost amused. In her opinion, Gu Zhaosi was the best-looking of the Gu siblings, and his personality wasn’t as grating as the other three.
“That music school Gu Zhaosi went to… wasn’t it the same one Chu Yanze attended? They’re alumni, right? Same year, too, though Chu Yanze dropped out. No idea if they ever crossed paths.”
Gu Zhaoping paused again, only now remembering she had a younger brother.
But—“No clue.”
She signed a document dismissively. This brother posed no threat. “Whatever.”
The next episode was still far off, but the show suddenly dropped a surprise preview—vlogs of the cast’s daily lives were about to air, reigniting the hype.
They’re updating this fast?
The production team’s working hard.
Three updates a day would be even better.
The internet exploded again, this time debating the current team pairings. Many fans weren’t happy.
Though the hate toward Gu Zhaoping had died down, that didn’t mean they’d tolerate her being tied to Chu Yanze for long.
Meanwhile, in another country across the ocean…
A young man in his early twenties stepped out of the shower, towel-drying his hair with a scowl.
His high-rise apartment was flooded with light. Dressed in gray shorts and nothing else, his lean, defined muscles glistened as he walked barefoot across the carpet to answer the phone.
“I know, I know. I’ll come back after graduation.”
“I still have the ceremony.”
“What’s wrong with music? Is it some inferior career?”
“Hah.”
“I don’t care what they think.” Gu Zhaosi flopped onto the pristine white couch, the towel draped over his damp, tousled hair, framing a strikingly handsome face.
To a keen eye, he bore some resemblance to Gu Zhaoping—though he likely took more after their mother, Ms. Hua.
Right now, his expression screamed “ready to fight the whole world,” a walking corpse of irritation.
Lately, he’d turned down every invitation—clubbing, road trips, travel, exhibitions. He had a thesis to write.
His laptop sat open on the coffee table, the blank document as empty as his brain.
Gu Zhaosi wanted to die even more.
His thoughts were a chaotic mess as he muttered, “So what if Gu Zhaoping and Gu Zhaoye fight? If they kill each other—I’ll just send my regards from across the ocean: ‘Rest in peace.’”
“Hello? Zhaosi? Hello—?”
Done with the conversation, he hung up decisively, slumping onto the carpet and ruffling his hair before zoning out at the screen again.
This thesis was impossible. After typing maybe six words, his hands hovered over the keyboard, frozen. He looked up, suddenly turning on the TV for background noise.
Foreign news was boring—no interest in shootings or elections—so he cast his screen to a domestic site, pulling up a gossip channel’s rundown of the latest celebrity scandals.
The first headline was about Gu Zhaoye and his so-called “white moonlight,” Ruan Nian. Gu Zhaosi couldn’t care less. He’d been hearing about this saga since high school. At this rate, even if their families forced them into an arranged marriage and they had a three-year-old, they’d still be stuck in their endless chase of tragic romance.
This damn thesis is driving me up the wall—researching the differences between the pop music scenes of two countries and the origins of their cultural influences? Whose bright idea was this? Having fun digging through all those sources?
Now that guy who went back to China to make it big has become part of your research material, huh?
Gu Zhaosi clicked the mouse with a blank expression, when suddenly, an all-too-familiar yet completely unexpected name blared from the screen.
"...According to my insider sources, not only has Gu Zhaoping been stirring up drama on the show, constantly clashing with Ruan Nian, but she’s also sparked major controversy online. And get this—rumor has it she’s got some kind of special connection with the rising heartthrob Chu Yanze..."
"...What kind of connection, you ask? Stay tuned for the next episode, where I’ll spill all the juicy details..."
Gu Zhaosi’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto a screenshot from a stalker’s leaked video on the screen.
The two of them were sitting at the same table, Gu Zhaoping lazily propping her chin on her hand as if listening, while Chu Yanze gazed at her with an unsettling intensity.
Without context, the photo made them look inexplicably close—almost intimate.
Gu Zhaosi shot to his feet, his knee slamming into the desk. Pain shot through his leg as he doubled over, collapsing onto the couch with a hiss, his voice cracking into a strangled shout:
"Chu Yanze!"
"You dropped out and went back to China just to chase after my sister?!"
"Are you out of your damn mind?!"
That was his sworn enemy! His sworn enemy!
