Chapter 9

Fu Minya was first drawn to the scrolling bullet comments at the top of the video before her gaze settled on the center of the screen.

The child in the Zhao family’s care probably wasn't getting enough to eat, but because she was born with a naturally round face, her cheeks looked flushed and plump.

Zhuzhu looked so much like Ji Ning when she was a child.

Ji Ning had been just as round and chubby as a little girl, but she had grown lean over time. Her features, which were once rounded and soft like her father's, gradually blossomed into a sharp, brilliant beauty that mirrored her mother’s, making it hard to find any traces of her childhood self anymore.

Fu Minya closed the video, stood up, turned around, and walked over to the bookshelf.

She pulled out a book with a hard cover. As she opened it, a photograph slipped out.

She stared at it, lost in thought.

The study door opened.

When Ji Guoting entered, he was holding a cup of hot tea. Fu Minya had always been a composed person; even as she quickly hid the photo in her hand, her expression remained calm.

"Don't hide it," Ji Guoting said gently. "I saw it. There’s writing on the back of the photo."

"You should knock before entering the study," Fu Minya said coldly.

"It’s been so many years; I thought you would have gotten rid of this photo long ago," Ji Guoting said.

This photo had been taken over three years ago, with Ji Ning holding Zhuzhu.

The baby was round and plump, as white as a rice cake. She couldn't even hold her head up yet, resting softly and crookedly in her mother’s arms, a small gold lock pendant bearing her name hanging around her neck. Ji Ning had been so headstrong back then; even with her family turned upside down, she had insisted on breaking off her engagement and giving birth to this child. Fu Minya had naturally opposed it vehemently, but opposition was useless. They both knew their daughter’s temperament—the more she was suppressed, the more stubborn she became.

"We’ve found the child," Fu Minya said.

Her tone was certain, leaving no room for ambiguity.

Now it was Ji Guoting’s turn to look stunned.

They had reported it to the police and had used significant manpower and resources to secretly investigate their granddaughter's whereabouts. Yet, no one had expected the child to have been abducted to Nancheng, all the way to the south, trapped in a remote mountain valley with absolutely no connection to the outside world.

Ji Guoting watched the video on Fu Minya’s tablet.

The little heiress of the Ji family, born into the most privileged lineage, could have grown up in luxury, just like her mother. But now, she was wearing rags, looking as disheveled as a little beggar. Even the way she looked at people was timid, as if she were afraid of being rejected, permeated with an unconscious eagerness to please.

Ji Guoting said, "First, we must verify the child's true identity. People can look alike; we cannot conclude she is Zhuzhu based on her appearance alone."

And once her identity was confirmed? Bring her back and have her reunite with Ji Ning?

That was the reason Fu Minya had stopped her secretary from digging further in the first place. That car accident had been horrific, yet by some twist of fate, it had wiped away the details of Ji Ning’s scandalous past as if they were chalk on a board.

Fu Minya’s expectations for Ji Ning had never been high.

To be obedient and quiet, to avoid being flashy or overbearing, and to walk through life according to plan—that was the true blessing.

Her life had finally returned to the right track, and the existence of this child would inevitably shatter the current tranquility.

"But regardless, a child of the Ji family cannot be left to drift outside," Fu Minya said as she tucked the photo away.

...

The sun had just set when Ji Ning returned home.

Auntie Wu served her dinner and explained that Fu Minya and Ji Guoting had gone out for some business. She then asked casually, "Ningning, you were out all afternoon. Where did you go to play?"

Ji Ning took the rice bowl and chopsticks from Auntie Wu.

Her eating manners were elegant and refined, slow and steady: "I went to the mall to wander around."

"Next time, you could let Xiaoman accompany you," Auntie Wu said with a sigh of relief, smiling. "You’re not familiar with the place, and Madam would be worried."

"Auntie Wu, look at what you’re saying," Ji Ning took a sip of soup. "I grew up in Beicheng, after all."

Auntie Wu wanted to say something else, but she was coldly interrupted.

"This soup is cold."

"Cold? Oh, how forgetful of me." Auntie Wu corrected her tone immediately, saying, "Miss, I’ll go heat it up right away."

Auntie Wu took the soup bowl and hurried to the kitchen.

Ji Ning set down her chopsticks without looking back.

...

In the original plot, Zhuzhu had lost her life during the filming of the first pilot episode.

It was at a reservoir with rapid currents. When she fell into the water, there was no one around. By the time the production crew realized the child was missing, Zhuzhu had already been swept downstream.

When she was finally recovered, she had long since lost all vital signs.

It was a major oversight by the production team. They expressed deep apologies and had no intention of shirking their responsibility regarding compensation. It was expected that the matter would become a scandal, and the team had prepared for the show’s cancellation. Unexpectedly, this accident didn't lead to a long, drawn-out dispute. The Zhao family named their price, then went back on it days later to demand more compensation, guaranteeing they would never mention the incident again. It was resolved quite efficiently.

A human life was eventually settled with a few million, dismissed lightly. It was said that afterward, the Zhao family took the money and left Yongrui Village with their son, and everything regarding Zhuzhu’s existence simply faded away, as if she had never been there at all.

The only people who remembered Zhuzhu were the netizens who had left comments on the official Weibo account out of sympathy for the child’s plight, but they eventually forgot her, assuming the "little bitter melon" simply hadn't met the production team's requirements.

In the original plot, the only ones who remembered Zhuzhu were her father and mother.

And because of that deep, lingering memory, they met a desolate end.

Now, back in reality, the little dumpling didn't yet have the ability to come up with an optimal self-preservation strategy.

All she could do was make sure she didn't end up alone.

The little one was Director Tao’s cute little sidekick; wherever he went, she would trot after him with her short legs, *patter-patter*.

While hanging around the production set, she inadvertently overheard some gossip. It was said that the other older brothers, sisters, uncles, and aunts recording the pilot were all incredible big-name stars. In the original plot, the staff’s failure to look after her was also because there were too many celebrity guests to properly keep track of them all.

The PD teased her with a straight face: "The celebrity guests haven't been announced to the public yet, so Zhuzhu must keep it a secret."

The little dumpling nodded vigorously, pressing her short finger to her lips: "Shh."

The staff members burst into laughter.

Yet the celebrity guests were in silent, tacit agreement, all wearing sour faces.

Zhuzhu understood nothing, blinking her eyes as she watched them, wondering why they were so unhappy.

They were all glum and irritable.

The staff stopped laughing.

They had suddenly received an order to rectify the show, changing the theme and core concept. The entire team worked overtime, and the variety show director used all his connections in the entertainment industry to invite so many "figures" just to save the program.

However, a new theme meant new challenges.

Unlike the previous season, which involved dealing with little brats, the celebrity guests they were facing this time had one thing in common: they were notoriously difficult to work with.

What made it even more headache-inducing was that the show's theme was "emotional repair," and the guests and their partners were currently all at odds with each other.

"Coming as a pair... that means double the trouble," someone muttered quietly.

The filming was simple: a few self-introductions and some interactions between the guests.

Zhuzhu, a little non-celebrity, didn't have much to do. She spent the entire day spacing out, listening to gossip, and eating boxed lunches.

In the original plot, her departure was too terrifying, so the little dumpling didn't dare to be careless, waiting as time ticked by until the sun was almost down.

"That’s a wrap for today’s pilot filming," the variety director said.

The little dumpling blinked.

She was still alive.

As long as she was alive, if she could just hold on until the official filming...

Would she be able to see her mother then?

The director thanked everyone: "Thank you all for your hard work!"

The guests remained sour-faced, and there was dead silence.

Only Zhuzhu was out of tune with the atmosphere.

The little one’s crisp, milky voice echoed through the valley as she politely said, "You're welcome."

The director looked moved.

Who said she was a "bitter melon" doll? She was clearly a warm-hearted little sweetheart!

...

Late at night, the light was still on in Ji Ning’s room, casting a glow through the door crack.

Ji Guoting knocked on the door.

"Dad?" The door opened. Ji Ning glanced at Ji Guoting, then looked past him.

In this household, Fu Minya was the one who made the final decisions, while Ji Guoting’s personality was relatively gentle, though the bond between father and daughter was not particularly deep.

After losing her memory, Ji Ning could clearly sense that the relationships within the Ji family—parent-child and husband-wife alike—were unhealthy, but when she tried to trace back the past, she couldn't analyze the reasons why.

"Stop looking," Ji Guoting said with a smile. "Your mother isn't coming. Let's just talk for a bit."

Ji Ning’s room was large, mostly occupied by a walk-in closet, with a small lounge area partitioned off. Initially, she had decorated the lounge in a whimsical, erratic style, as if intentionally trying to clash with the villa’s elegant Chinese aesthetic, choosing the most bizarre pieces she could find.

Later, after she lost her memory, they had casually cleared away most traces of her past, leaving only that soft, slouchy sofa in the corner.

Ji Ning had ordered it herself from a niche overseas designer years ago, going through great lengths to ship it back to the country. It looked odd and had caused Fu Minya to frown more than once, but now, as Ji Guoting sat on it, his whole body was cradled and sunken in, unexpectedly comfortable.

"What are you busy with?" Ji Guoting asked.

On the desk, Ji Ning had organized some old graduation photos, textbooks, and the like.

"It’s so strange. For such a big drawer, there are so few things from the past."

"Dad, don't I have any yearbooks or anything like that?"

That day, Ji Ning had met with Bai Hui.

It was evident they weren't particularly close, but ironically, Bai Hui seemed to be the only one willing to tell her the truth.

Yet, even Bai Hui couldn't explain the many hidden secrets.

After returning home, Ji Ning hadn't been idle.

She had focused her efforts on the years after she reached adulthood, but she couldn't remember anything; even the fragments of memory that flashed through her mind were blank. She could only seek answers indirectly, trying to verify things with everyone who understood her past.

"Ningning," Ji Guoting said, "on one point, your mother is right. Is there any meaning in wallowing in the past? It will only make you waste your present time."

Ji Guoting sighed softly.

"Dad knows that being kept in the dark isn't a good feeling."

"Actually, it’s nothing. Everyone goes through adolescence; that was your most rebellious time. It was full of petty, trivial matters, and we didn't tell you because there was no need."

Ji Ning looked up, confused.

"When you were very small, you wrote an essay for a school assignment. The topic was 'Time.' You wrote that out of curiosity, you tried counting time. You timed yourself, counting from one second to sixty seconds, from one minute to sixty minutes, counting so intently that it was only after a long time that you stopped."

Ji Ning listened very carefully: "Did you get tired of counting?"

"No," Ji Guoting chuckled. "You suddenly realized that counting time was pointless. Every second you counted was a second wasted. It would be better to use that time to do something more meaningful, like cherishing the present."

"Ningning, you were only ten years old then, and you already understood that principle. Now that you've grown up, why are you living backward?"

The mechanical grandfather clock in the room was full of artistic flair, clearly reflecting Fu Minya’s taste.

The hands moved neither too fast nor too slow, like a witness to the passing of time.

As the minutes and seconds ticked by, the present was perhaps truly what should be cherished most.

That day, she took her father’s words to heart.

She had returned to the country originally for Bai Hui’s wedding. The wedding was over, and the voices around her were noisy and chaotic, yet they didn't hold the answers she wanted to hear.

When Ji Guoting left the room, he left behind the details of her return flight.