Chapter 163: Chapter 163: Heart for Heart, Piano Performance

“Sweetheart, let me keep it short. We took time off to come see you, but the experiment is about to enter a new phase, so we might not be able to see you for quite a while,” Nan Sheng said reluctantly, giving her daughter some last words of advice.

“Mom believes you can take care of yourself. If you miss us, you can write. If there’s anything you’re unsure about, listen to your sister Huanhuan’s advice.”

“You can’t even come back for New Year’s?” Ming Ruxue’s voice was full of grievance as she spoke, and the tears she had just wiped away started to fall again, streaming down her face.

She dreaded the New Year the most. While every other family was filled with laughter and joy, she was always alone. When she was abroad, it wasn’t as bad because there wasn’t the same festive atmosphere, but now that she was back in China and it was still like this, she couldn’t take it.

Her daughter’s sobs pierced Nan Sheng’s heart like needles. She knew she wasn’t a good enough mother—she couldn’t even spend New Year’s with her child.

Ming Cheng’s eyes reddened with guilt. As a father, he knew he owed his daughter so much, but he couldn’t even find an excuse to comfort her.

Ming Ruxue cried her heart out for about two minutes, then climbed off Nan Sheng’s shoulder and wiped away her tears, having already composed herself.

Just like so many times before, she forced a smile.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll take care of myself. This year I won’t be alone for New Year’s—I have Lanting, Sister Huanhuan, Sister Luoning, Dabao, Beibei, Youran, and so many kind people with me!

You two take care of yourselves, too. Don’t get so busy that you forget to eat.”

When she was little, every time her parents left, she would cry and cling to their legs, refusing to let them go, and she’d be down for days.

But now, she could quickly adjust her emotions so they wouldn’t worry.

They might not be the best parents, but their research would help countless people stand tall. Deep down, she was proud of them, and even hoped she could become like them one day.

Ming Cheng stepped forward and gave his daughter a loving hug. “Good girl.”

Their conversation came to an end.

Nan Sheng called Gu Qinghuan over for a private word.

“Huanhuan, how is your mother doing?”

“Thank you for your concern, Auntie. She’s getting by,” Gu Qinghuan replied. Of course things weren’t great, but she didn’t want to go into it—it wouldn’t change anything.

“Qinghuan, I know your grandfather, uncle, and mother are going through a tough time right now, but please believe me, the dawn is coming. Tell them to hold on a little longer.

When the time is right, we’ll help set things right, and your family will be reunited.” Nan Sheng couldn’t say too much, so she could only hint at it like this.

Gu Qinghuan understood. The Zhong family hadn’t really done anything wrong. It was just that, given the political climate, intellectuals were all considered guilty, and so disaster struck.

Heart for heart—since the Ming family cared about her family’s troubles, Gu Qinghuan was genuinely touched.

“Thank you, Auntie. I understand. Sorry for all the trouble.”

“Don’t say that. I watched you grow up. If anyone’s troubling anyone, it’s us troubling you. The way you take care of Xue’er puts us as parents to shame.

Oh, and here’s three thousand yuan. I withdrew it on my way here. Take it, please.” Nan Sheng took a wad of cash from her bag and stuffed it into Gu Qinghuan’s hands before she could refuse.

The Zhong family’s assets had been confiscated, and Nan Sheng knew it wasn’t easy for a young woman like Gu Qinghuan to support her family, so she wanted to help.

“No, Auntie, I have enough money. I can’t take this.” Gu Qinghuan tried to hand it back, as if it were a hot potato.

“You have to take it! Huanhuan, I mean nothing else by it—I just know it’s not easy for you to support your family.

You don’t even charge rent, and you feed Xue’er. Your uncle and I feel so guilty that we can’t help more, so this is the least we can do. I hope it makes things a little easier for you.

Your mother was just like this—gentle and kind. You’re just like her, as if you were made from the same mold. Our family owes yours so much, we can never repay it.”

Nan Sheng spoke with deep emotion, tears glistening in her eyes. Gu Qinghuan could only accept the money.

“That’s better!”

Gu Qinghuan gave a helpless smile.

“We’ll be going now. Xue’er is in your hands. If she does anything wrong, please teach her,” Nan Sheng said, glancing at her watch.

“Xue’er is very well-behaved. She’s never given me any trouble, and she often helps me with the kids. Don’t worry!”

After saying goodbye to Ming Ruxue, the couple left.

Gu Qinghuan packed up some steamed buns she’d made that morning, a box of pastries made by Xialian, and some local specialties: pine nuts, hazelnuts, hickory nuts, red dates, and wild mushrooms from the Northeast.

She gave these as gifts every time, not only because she had plenty in her space and they were safe, but also because they’d all been nourished by spiritual spring water. Eating them was as good as drinking the water itself.

Ming Ruxue stood at the second-floor window, watching their car drive away before turning back and quietly locking herself in her room to have a good cry.

She didn’t cheer up again until Lanting came home.

At noon, Xiao Zhuo brought good news.

Gu Qinghuan hadn’t installed a phone at home yet—she was all about saving where she could, and there was no real need for one. Private phones weren’t cheap, so Xiao Zhuo drove over to deliver the message in person.

“That piano is going for fifteen hundred now. Do you want it? If so, we can pick it up this afternoon,” Xiao Zhuo said simply.

“Yes! Yes!” A Yamaha for fifteen hundred was a steal—these things could last for decades, even a century. You’d be a fool not to take the deal.

She followed Xiao Zhuo to a warehouse-like place to pick up the piano.

Xiao Zhuo had already arranged for a large truck and several movers. They were just waiting for her to pay before moving it.

Of course, she had to check the goods first.

Gu Qinghuan didn’t really know much about pianos and had never had the chance to touch something so elegant, but the original owner had grown up around her cousin Zhong Luoning, so she’d picked up a bit.

She checked it over and found that the piano looked almost unused—practically brand new. Getting it for fifteen hundred was an absolute bargain.

She didn’t know that someone had already paid half the price for her, so she was secretly delighted.

While she was inspecting the piano, Leizi kept winking at Xiao Zhuo.

So that’s why Xiao Zhuo was being so generous—he was trying to impress the pretty girl.

But to be fair, she really was a knockout. No wonder Xiao Zhuo was interested.

Leizi fantasized to himself.

Xiao Zhuo ignored him, thinking instead about whether Zhong Luoning would like this piano. He’d heard she used to be a piano teacher, so she must know her stuff.

He could have found an even better piano, but he was worried Gu Qinghuan couldn’t afford it, so he settled for this one.

Gu Qinghuan was thrilled with the piano and paid the fifteen hundred on the spot.

Xiao Zhuo had already covered the other half.

The movers wrapped the piano in old cotton jackets and got ready to load it onto the truck.

Leizi kept trying to get Xiao Zhuo to introduce him, but Xiao Zhuo just smacked him away—he was too noisy.

It took a lot of effort to get the piano to the villa, where it was finally set up in the first-floor living room.

Gu Qinghuan had kept it a secret from Zhong Luoning. When she came downstairs and saw the piano, she froze.

Once, the piano had been her whole life. She’d dreamed of becoming a piano master, of leaving behind timeless classics.

But later, life had worn her down with its daily grind, and all her passion had been ground away—she’d become numb, just going through the motions.

She hadn’t touched a piano in years—it felt like a lifetime.

Now, seeing her old friend again, it felt like a different world.

She stood there, stunned.

Everyone looked at her, as if encouraging her to give it a try.

Zhong Luoning slowly stepped forward, her fingers brushing the piano, feeling its solid presence. Then she sat down.

A torrent of Beethoven’s Symphony of Fate poured out.

She’d thought she’d forgotten how to play, even forgotten how to sit at the keys. But as soon as she sat down, everything she thought she’d lost came flooding back. It was all so smooth, as if it were written in her DNA.

Years ago, she hadn’t really appreciated this piece, nor could she truly interpret it. But after all the pain and hardship life had thrown her way, looking back, she’d come to love it, and found her own deep understanding of it.

The powerful opening music burst forth, sending a shiver through everyone’s soul. It was like the unstoppable wheels of history, like life’s throat being gripped by death, like a hurricane-force storm—enough to make your heart pound in fear.

Music knows no boundaries. Everyone present was moved.

Gradually, the music softened, letting people catch their breath after the intensity, as if life was down to its last gasp.

It was a cry of sorrow, like a mighty tree with only a few withered branches left—a sound of pain and grief.

Then, the resilience of life emerged! I will not bow to fate! I will not surrender! I will fight, and overcome fate! I will fight—I am not fate’s slave! I am myself! I can endure setbacks, I can struggle against you, I am myself!

“I will seize fate by the throat—it shall not completely overcome me!”"

"Chapter 164: Xiao Zhuo’s Thoughts, A Trip to the Black Market

Zhong Luoning poured her entire emotional journey of this period into her music. She expressed all her hardships, yet somehow seemed to say nothing at all—that’s the magic of music.

Gu Qinghuan, Ming Ruxue, Gu Lanting, and Xiao Zhuo—the four adults—were all stunned by her performance. Each of them heard something different in the music.

When the final note faded, a single tear slid down from the corner of Zhong Luoning’s eye.

She finally understood something her teacher had once told her:

A top-tier piece isn’t just about playing the notes; what matters more is the performer’s understanding of the music.

Many piano masters use music to interpret their own lives.

Experience and depth matter more than technique.

Gu Qinghuan was the first to start clapping. Just now, she’d felt as if she were sitting in a grand concert hall, with the whole world reduced to just Zhong Luoning and her piano.

The others joined in, even the three children clapping enthusiastically.

They didn’t really understand music, but they could sense the adults’ excitement.

Zhong Luoning’s performance planted a small seed in their hearts.

Dabao and Beibei had never seen a piano before, but that didn’t stop them from yearning for beautiful things.

The wonderful music brought them not only a shock to the soul, but also made them aware of the gulf between social classes.

Before, their world was limited to Xujia Village. Later, they saw a broader world.

If they’d stayed in Xujia Village all their lives, they might never have seen what a piano even looked like.

Suddenly, Dabao understood many things his mother had said.

Some people spend their whole lives longing for Rome, while others are born there.

“Luoning-jie, you’re amazing! That solo was as good as the performances I’ve heard from masters abroad. Don’t give up on your piano dreams! Maybe one day I’ll have a big sister who’s a piano master,” Ming Ruxue praised, always knowing just what to say to make people happy without sounding ingratiating.

That was what Gu Qinghuan wanted to say too—if you have a dream, you should stick with it.

Gu Lanting nodded as well. His sisters were all so outstanding that he felt a bit useless by comparison—he had to work harder.

“There’s a note that needs tuning. I’ll fix it in a bit,” Xiao Zhuo said lightly, as if nothing had happened.

But only he knew how shaken he was inside.

Having grown up abroad, he was no stranger to the piano, and few people’s performances could truly impress him. Zhong Luoning’s technique and interpretation were spot-on; she played with her own unique feeling.

His heart was pounding, and his gaze kept following Zhong Luoning’s figure. A thought was on the verge of bursting out.

When did he start paying attention to her? Maybe recently, maybe even earlier.

Actually, they’d seen each other every week for the past two years. Xiao Zhuo had never imagined he’d fall for a divorced woman with a child. Not only did he not mind, he felt deeply for her and wanted to help her out of her predicament as much as possible.

Lately, he’d noticed he was acting strangely. He’d never been one to meddle in others’ business, but when it came to her, he couldn’t help but worry.

He kept an eye on her affairs, and even though he wasn’t exactly strong, he’d rush to protect her without a second thought, wanting to help her out of her emotional lows.

As soon as he heard Gu Qinghuan wanted to buy a piano, he chipped in with his own money.

Because he knew Zhong Luoning had studied piano since childhood and used to be a piano teacher. In this family, she was the only one who really needed the piano.

Music heals the soul. He hoped this piano could dispel the shadows in her heart and help her recover quickly.

No matter what happened between them in the future, he just wanted her to be happy—that was his only wish.

Zhong Luoning hadn’t expected Xiao Zhuo to know about pianos, let alone notice a single off note. She instantly felt a sense of kinship.

“You’re right, there is a note that’s a bit off. Sorry to trouble you, Dr. Xiao.” She gave a shy smile, like a cool, elegant lily.

“No problem.”

Gu Qinghuan kept glancing between Xiao Zhuo and Zhong Luoning, feeling like something was off but unable to put her finger on it.

Mainly, she hadn’t dared to think in that direction. Xiao Zhuo was a golden bachelor—handsome, rich, and talented. What kind of woman couldn’t he find?

Her cousin was great, but she was newly divorced and had a child. There was no way the two of them could have anything to do with each other.

Xiao Zhuo helped check the piano over, tuned all the notes, and soon it was mealtime.

Of course, Gu Qinghuan invited everyone to stay for dinner.

When Xiao Fengying saw her son hadn’t come home yet, she came straight to the Gu house and ended up joining them for the meal. She had to admit, other people’s food really was delicious, and she felt refreshed after eating.

Maybe that’s the benefit of eating at someone else’s house?

Gu Qinghuan was a great cook, generous with her ingredients, and with the added bonus of spiritual spring water.

Most importantly, meals were lively with so many people, and there was never any food left over.

As for Fang Zhengping, he was still in the early stages of recovery. Gu Qinghuan had quietly given him plenty of medicine and spiritual spring water, and with Ousu Mei’s company and a fresh new life, his condition had clearly improved.

Gu Qinghuan suggested he see Xiao Zhuo for psychological counseling each week, and also secretly sent them plenty of produce and fruit from her space.

Ousu Mei thought it all came from the little villa’s garden and said she wanted to plant some herself—homegrown food just tasted better and made her feel more energetic.

Gu Qinghuan could only smile wryly. The veggies were from her space, and couldn’t be compared to ordinary ones.

But for wealthy ladies of their age, puttering around in the vegetable garden and flower beds was good for their health and mood.

So she shared some of her space’s seeds with Ousu Mei.

Not just Ousu Mei—Xiao Fengying also enjoyed the feeling of growing and eating her own food, and asked for some seeds, saying she’d plant some next year too.

When they’d harvested the garden together before, it had been tiring, but the food tasted especially sweet.

Gu Qinghuan was both amused and exasperated. She grew her own food for health reasons—because she couldn’t buy what she wanted. These two were just rich people looking for something to do.

No wonder people often said that, at the height of wealth, Chinese people just wanted to farm better.

Many rich people, after achieving financial freedom, retreated to the countryside to farm and garden for fun—a leisurely, contented life.

Ever since that day, Xia Lian had mobilized her whole family to help make pastries.

She delivered a batch almost every other day—over three hundred jin so far—and took plenty of grain back to keep making more.

This was the one time of year to make big money, and no one thought it was too much.

Gu Qinghuan accepted everything, putting the goods straight on the shelves, and they sold out in seconds every time.

Since she provided the raw materials herself—and food from the future was cheaper and better quality—she made a few hundred yuan in profit.

Xia Lian also made three hundred yuan. They settled up after each delivery, so there was no risk and easy money. She was highly motivated, making pastries with guaranteed quality, sleeping only five hours a night just to earn more.

Both families ended up winning.

Gu Qinghuan also wanted to take advantage of the approaching New Year to sell some things from her space and make some extra money—after all, who doesn’t want more cash for the holidays?

Before, she’d been too busy with family, patients, and daily chores to go out.

Now, with Lanting and Ruxue on break and someone at home to help, and with Zhong Luoning’s health improving, Gu Qinghuan could finally go out.

She’d already found out where the biggest black market nearby was.

She planned to sell a batch of watches, bicycles, radios, and other hot items.

The profit margin on grain was too small—you’d have to sell a huge amount to make any money, and it would draw too much attention.

She disguised herself in her space, transforming into a middle-aged woman. Once she was sure even her own mother wouldn’t recognize her, she went to the black market, paid a ten-cent “entrance fee,” and went in.

It was a dark alley. In the dead of winter, many people huddled in corners, keeping warm while selling their goods.

Both buyers and sellers wrapped their heads and faces in big scarves—no exceptions.

Gu Qinghuan found a corner to squat in, clutching her basket tightly, and started watching the passersby.

She’d brought three Plum Blossom brand watches in her basket, planning to use her tried-and-true method—using the watches to lure in big buyers. She couldn’t think of a more profitable business.

Thank goodness for the advanced manufacturing of the future.

Three Plum Blossom watches cost her thirty yuan. She planned to sell them for two hundred each and see how many she could move today.

She focused on people who looked well-dressed—those were the ones with buying power.

“Brother, want a watch?” she whispered to a middle-aged man in a Zhongshan suit as he passed by.

He glanced at her, shook his head, and walked on.

She tried a few more times, but no one was interested.

Gu Qinghuan started to worry—was she going to end up with zero sales today?

Just then, a cocky-looking man walked over. He wasn’t wearing a scarf, just a Lei Feng hat, boldly showing his face and glancing around as if nothing here interested him.

Gu Qinghuan’s instincts told her this man was no ordinary customer. She quickly stood up and approached him: “Sir, interested in a watch? Brand new Plum Blossom, no ration coupons needed.”

This man was Niu Zhuang, a henchman of the black market boss. He usually patrolled the market, kept order, and skimmed a little off the top.

He looked lazy, but was actually tough, and everyone was a little afraid of him.

“Oh? Plum Blossom? Are you sure?” Niu Zhuang perked up—this was the good stuff.

“Guaranteed genuine. You can check it first,” Gu Qinghuan said, hoping he’d be interested.

“How much?”

She leaned in and whispered, “Two hundred each.”

Niu Zhuang knew the market.

A brand new Plum Blossom watch cost over three hundred and required ration coupons. If hers were really new, two hundred without coupons was a steal.

Whether he kept it or resold it, there was money to be made. He was instantly interested.

“Come with me!” Niu Zhuang swaggered off ahead.

Gu Qinghuan felt a little uneasy—where was he taking her?

Seeing her hesitate, Niu Zhuang gave her a disdainful look. “Ask around—when has Lord Niu ever ripped anyone off? This is a black market, but we do honest business here. No scams.”

With those words, Gu Qinghuan felt reassured and quickly followed with her basket.

Niu Zhuang led her through twists and turns in the alley, finally arriving at a small courtyard.

“This is my temporary place. It’s safe. Take out the watch so I can have a look,” Niu Zhuang said, plopping down on a stone bench.

Time to check the goods.

Gu Qinghuan wasn’t worried—she had her space and wasn’t afraid of being cheated.

She calmly sat down across from him and took a box out of her basket, handing it over."

"Chapter 165: The Big Boss, Cheng Fusheng