The new school year had begun.

Given Yan Xi’s grades, when seats were assigned, he naturally couldn’t sit with Ah Heng.

The classmates had gotten familiar with Ah Heng and felt this girl was quite reliable, and good at studies too – sitting with her would be beneficial. Thus, this year when choosing desk mates, Ah Heng was absolutely in demand.

As a result, because Chen Juan’s grades were outstanding, he minced over to sit beside Ah Heng: “Brother, it’s fate!”

Ah Heng smiled cheerfully: “Yes yes, fate.”

A few seats away, Xin Dayi walked over with a sideways glance, gloating: “Pretty boy, hehe, you’re done for, oh yeah!”

Chen Juan didn’t understand but pointed his purple-polished finger at Xin Dayi: “Pah, when did you baboon turn into a crow? You’re the one who’s done for! Want to bet this lady will bite you to death, tch!”

Unfortunately, before his bottom could warm the seat, Yan Xi walked over with a dark face and savage smile, threw his bag on a certain meat strip’s desk, raised an eyebrow with an insincere smile: “So, will you walk yourself, or shall I escort you?”

Meat-strip opened his eyes wide, vaguely seeing little black-winged things swirling chaotically above Yan Xi’s head, remembered countless experiences of being bullied by that sharp tongue, and got up with an ingratiating smile: “How could I, how could I, Young Master Yan please sit, this humble one apologizes for disturbing your father-daughter reunion, I deserve death.”

“Damn, acting like a madam!” Xin Dayi scorned.

Meat-strip gracefully moved over: “Oh, Young Master Xin has such good character, in the future, this humble one will need more of your edifying influence.”

Then promptly sat down beside Sir Xin Dayi.

Their eyes met, sparks flying everywhere.

Outside the iron windows, those visiting – no, those waiting for seat assignments – all sighed: “Look, what a blatant love quadrangle! Originally Xin Dayi secretly loved Wen Heng, Wen Heng and Xin Dayi were making eyes at each other, such a nice couple, but then Beautiful Yan, after breaking up with Mary, was traumatized and felt home flowers smelled better than wild ones, not wanting to let the family water flow to outsiders’ fields, forcibly snatched his good brother’s love, and performed an epic incestuous father-daughter romance with Wen Heng, leaving Xin Dayi and Mary heartbroken, drowning their sorrows in alcohol, wasting away at the ends of the earth, hearts turned to ashes, nothing left to live for, barely hanging on…”

Inside the iron windows, those imprisoned – no, those who had already been assigned seats – another nest tearfully: “So cruel, killing people with cruelty, Mary’s neighbor, that naked baby shooting arrows is a stepmother, too damn stepmotherly!!!”

The first time Ah Heng heard Si Er play the piano was at the personal recital her mother held for her.

She didn’t understand music, only felt it was excessively beautiful, those hands, flying lightly, combining and arranging on the piano keys, far more brilliant than mathematics.

When the notes suddenly stopped, everyone’s applause rose, thundering against eardrums, very much like thunder.

Si Er wore a white evening gown, with a fair and straight neck looking elegant and noble. She rose from the piano, took the microphone, and with the lingering applause, spoke with slight shyness and seriousness. She said: “Thank you to my mother, my most beloved, most beloved, most beloved mother.”

Then, Ah Heng, sitting in such a front VIP seat, watched as Er Er’s equally noble and beautiful mother walked onto the stage with reddened eyes, embracing that young woman in such a warm, intimate posture, reluctant to let go: “This is my priceless treasure, my friends.”

Making everything perfectly perfect was the tide-like applause.

She kept smiling, only her ears hurt somewhat.

Yan Xi looked at her, very strangely, frantically. He wore an elegant white suit but had untidily rolled up his sleeves, both hands tightly covering her ears, muttering something.

Instantly, the world became silent.

She smiled watching Yan Xi’s mouth open and close, carefully piecing together the too-anxious sentences: “Good… good… good… we… Ah Heng… if… learned piano… definitely… play… better…”

Oh, is that so?…

Ah Heng sniffed, laughing: “Yan Xi, let go, you’re pressing my ears so painfully, so painful.”

Yan Xi released his hands and knelt improperly on the seat facing her, his big eyes nearly squinting closed with his smile: “Really really, Ah Heng you must believe me.”

Ah Heng, believe me. If you had also learned piano at such a young age, darling, you would be a priceless treasure more precious than priceless treasures.

Si Wan turned her gaze from the stage to below, gentle and concerned: “What are you talking about, being so happy?”

Yan Xi pursed his lips: “Secret.”

Si Wan became even more gentle and concerned: “I can’t know either?”

Yan Xi ignored her, just scoffed: “You wooden head, already said it’s a secret.”

Si Wan smiled bitterly: “When did your secrets with others also become secrets against me?”

Taking advantage of some touching speech on stage and enthusiastic applause below, Yan Xi smiled: “What did you say? Too noisy, couldn’t hear.”

All the industry insiders seriously evaluated Si Er’s performance level as reaching astronomical, extraterrestrial standards.

Ah Heng seriously said to Yan Xi: “Yan Xi, I feel I’m very interested in music.”

Yan Xi also seriously said: “Daughter, this is a very elegant and easily sleep-inducing interest.”

But, life is so boring, we can find some fun casually.

He dragged out a long-abandoned piano from the attic full of childhood toys, then when free, familiarized himself with the almost moss-grown sheet music, letting Ah Heng choose whichever piece she wanted him to play.

He said: “Heng-heng, why do I feel I’m now very like certain people who wait for tips in certain places?”

Ah Heng looked at Yan Xi’s delicate skin and snow-like features, carefully asking: “A nightclub host?”

Yan Xi spat blood: “Obviously a hotel pianist. Heaven and earth, where exactly did my home education go wrong…”

Ah Heng expressionlessly: “Everything is wrong.”

Yan Xi fumed: “I quit! Come on, today your lord treats, let’s go hear people sawing and singing!”

Then, wearing ordinary T-shirts, ordinary jeans, clothes as ordinary as could be, they walked to what was said to be the country’s most famous opera house. These days, the opera house had invited a famous American theater troupe to perform, thirty-three shows total, not one more not one less, and after finishing, they’d pack up and leave, very high-class.

Ah Heng searched for a long time but couldn’t find the ticket counter.

Yan Xi made a phone call, and soon someone came, in suit and tie, bowing and scraping, delivering tickets.

Ah Heng sighed: “You’re too much a high official’s son, too capitalist.”

Yan Xi: “Tch, try mentioning Wen Muxin’s name, see if that person’s bow becomes even more capitalist!”

Ah Heng sheepishly admitted this was true. Then leaned over to look at the ticket: “What’s the name of the opera?”

Yan Xi turned the ticket this way and that, calmly spelling: “M-U-S-E-S.”

Ah Heng wrote in her palm: muses.

… Muses? The Muses, goddesses of inspiration?

The two sat in the front row, somewhat impressed, look look, the capitalist country’s Muses are different, even their clothes are so capitalist.

Yan Xi blinked his big eyes: “Ah Heng, besides the loud voices, can you understand what they’re singing?”

A scornful snort came from the neighboring seat, turning their heads, they saw someone next door in a suit and tie, properly dressed.

Yan Xi hugged his popcorn, angry: “Ya, understanding English is so great? Try speaking some African tribal language! Damn, racial discrimination, tch!” His big eyes glaring glaring glaring.

That person lost their temper.

Ah Heng smiled: “Sigh, beauty brings disaster.”

Yan Xi was confused: “Who?”

Ah Heng played dumb, pointing at the fair-skinned woman on stage wearing an elegant beige dress and hitting high notes: “The Muse…”

Yan Xi whispered in Ah Heng’s ear, asking with a serious face: “Who did she bring disaster to?”

Ah Heng suppressed a laugh: “Oh, many many people.”

Yan Xi looked toward the stage, just in time for a climactic scene where a poor young painter accidentally encounters the Muse who spreads inspiration’s light to the mortal world, falling in love with her at first sight.

That handsome youth with golden hair knelt on one knee: “My noble goddess, why were you born with such beautiful features, stealing away all my soul? Your silver hair is the most dazzling, pure radiance in this world, even beside my almighty father Zeus.

“All around me is pitch black, only because my goddess, your eyes make all the light in this world dim. The proud goddess Athena granted me wisdom, yet I abandoned it, using every bone and soul to yearn for your red lips, this world’s sweetest, most gorgeous flower.

“When morning winds blow, sunlight fills the earth, I open my window, you descend to the mortal world, bringing divine benevolence and innocence of the world, cruelly making Venus smile at me, casting me into burning hell, for love, eternally living and dying!”

The Muse raised high her book of inspiration, expression distant and solemn: “Dear Lucifer, you have only fallen in love with a part of yourself—the eternally mysterious and elusive inspiration. Every mortal poet, painter, musician, and historian pours out their love for me. Therefore, invoking the gods’ names, now, I grant you inspiration.”

Lucifer fell silent.

The Muse smiled, with understanding and nobility, waved her divine staff, and the light of inspiration fell upon Lucifer.

The curtain fell.

Yan Xi was somewhat disappointed: “Is that the ending?”

Ah Heng looked at the clock on the wall: “There should be one more act.”

In the final act, the curtain rose on Lucifer, still poor. He hadn’t gained even a bit of glory or wealth from the Muse’s gift of inspiration.

He still wandered through vulgar, dirty alleys, his movements always clumsy and slow, gazing blankly at his surroundings, doing rough odd jobs for a piece of coarse bread.

All the large chunks of time, previously reserved for painting, now were spent in a silent daze, exchanged for the Muse’s endless mockery and disdain in her temple.

When she stepped into the mortal world again to sprinkle inspiration on another poet, that man, Lucifer, had already returned eternally to dust.

The noble goddess read the epitaph, and her eternally proud, beautiful, ageless face instantly aged, grief-stricken.

It read: A laughable madman, the painter who gouged out his eyes—Lucifer.

He didn’t want her inspiration, he’d rather not see his inspiration. Abandoning the man who was a painter, just purely Lucifer, who only felt helpless for that beautiful pure figure in the early morning light, smiling innocently as he fell in love—Lucifer.

The final curtain.

“This man was too foolish.” Ah Heng shook her head.

“This goddess was too cruel.” Yan Xi sighed.

They looked at each other and smiled.

She always looked at problems from a woman’s perspective, he unconsciously adopted a man’s thinking.

Suddenly very melancholic, why did we watch something so tragic?

Silence, life is so beautiful, with little pork ribs, with “Detective Conan,” with a broken piano, with a radio, our complete life lies in these things, not in the suppression stuck in throats on stage, right?

“How long has it been since you had a good cry?” Ah Heng remembered the emotional Sister Know-it-all on the radio.

This phrase works everywhere, mm, I think we watched this scene of joy and sorrow just to find a reason to cry.

Yan Xi was startled: “I cried just the day before yesterday, don’t you remember, when the piano crushed my foot?”

Ah Heng laughed, hehe. Never seen such a clumsy person, moving a piano and getting their foot crushed by it. Getting crushed was one thing, but then daring to cry golden beans, wailing for half an hour, even Xin Dayi living at the other end of the compound called: “What happened, what happened? Ah Heng, did your Little Hui get beaten by Lu Rou Fan again? Tch, such a stupid crying dog, might as well throw it away! Later brother will send you a pure one, ha, definitely sounds better crying than this wolf-howling puppy!”

Yan Xi wiped tears while sharpening a kitchen knife, I’ll kill you!

Ah Heng hugged Little Hui, laughing sideways, too bad it didn’t know it was also a protagonist in this play, stupidly watching Lu Rou Fan circling above its forehead. Lu Rou Fan smoothed its fur, little black eyes rolling around, disdainful: Stupid dog, what are you looking at, they’re cursing you!

It was evening when they left the theater, walking on the early autumn street with a slight chill.

The popcorn wasn’t finished, held in hand, had gone cold too, clumped together.

Yan Xi remembered something, reached into his pocket rummaged for a while, and held out his hand with a white transparent marble in his palm.

“Little Shrimp asked me to give this to you, the kid said he fought for a long time at school before winning it.”

Ah Heng took the marble: “Why didn’t he give it to me himself?”

Yan Xi put both hands behind his head: “Isn’t it because he’s afraid you’ll scold him for playing around instead of studying properly?”

Ah Heng carefully closed her hand, smiling: “When have I ever scolded him? That’s wronging me.”

“Grandpa He’s health hasn’t been good lately.” Yan Xi changed the subject, his tone somewhat stiff.

Ah Heng fell silent, this, she knew too. Recently when Grandpa He set up his stall, he always coughed badly. Every time she went nearby to buy vegetables, greeting from far away, she could always see the old man’s pained expression as he held back his cough to greet her.

“If only it weren’t Little Shrimp.” Ah Heng’s tone was somewhat lonely.

Yan Xi glanced at her: “What?”

“Little Shrimp is so small. If it were me, I could support that family.” She sighed, not without regret.

“Pardon me for interrupting Miss Wen, but you seem to be only a year and a half older than He Xia.” Yan Xi sneered.

Ah Heng was good-tempered, looking at him mildly, where did this anger come from…

“Yan Xi, what if Grandpa He…” Ah Heng couldn’t help thinking of the worst, although Grandpa He was usually strong and healthy, at an age when the oil runs out and the lamp dims, there’s no room for mishap…

Yan Xi smiled: “That’s what I wanted to talk about. Ah Heng, if, in the future, we add another pair of chopsticks at home, would you find it very difficult?”

Ah Heng was somewhat dazed, Yan Xi’s words kept circling in her mind, until finally, only two words remained—at home.

Oh, that place that was Yan Xi’s home, was it also Ah Heng’s home? Had it reached the point of asking her opinion with the attitude of consulting a family member?

“Yan Xi, who am I, who am I…” she asked him, her voice broken, accidentally reddening her eyes.

This question wasn’t funny at all, she could no longer smile lonely like when watching Mother and Er Er, could only be so nervous she didn’t know where to put her hands and feet.

Yan Xi sighed, and reached out both arms, hugging her tightly.

“Who are you? Let me think, Yun Heng who can’t return to the past, Wen Heng who can’t walk toward the future, Ah Heng who only has Yan Xi left beside her, Yan Xi’s family member who might go crazy and abandon everything someday, which one do you want to choose?”

Ah Heng, when I long ago stopped calling you Wen Heng, only calling you Ah Heng, which one do you want to choose?

Ah Heng, when I deliberately call you daughter, constantly talking about our Ah Heng, which one do you choose again?

I often compare, which one sounds better? Which one makes you feel you’re no longer an adult who can bear everything? Which one makes you feel you’re a child who can act spoiled? Which one can make my Ah Heng a little happier?

I often feel my heart is narrow and too cynical about the world, this world has treated me with too much injustice. But you suppress my hatred, continuously, so hard. I’m thinking, besides repaying you with the family love you lack most, what better method is there…