The living room lights were dimmed to the barest glow, the air thin and cool.
At some unknown point, the sun had fully set, leaving only a deep blue sky outside the window.
Ya Xinyao sat on the sofa, her fingers unconsciously tracing the photos in the album—pictures of her and Gao Hongzhi in their younger days.
Each photo held the sweet memories of their youthful years.
She still remembered the clear skies of New York, and how her husband’s slightly accented English had caused quite a few laughs when they strolled through Times Square.
Even though it was over twenty years ago, the memories remained vivid.
On the coffee table, the jasmine tea had gone cold.
Gao Hongyi had barely touched it during their conversation.
Now, she sat on the piano bench, her back straight, her red hair spilling over her shoulders like a flowing fire.
She didn’t turn around, her fingertips hovering lightly over the black and white keys…
Actually, Ya Xinyao sometimes felt she owed Gao Hongyi an apology.
Because of work, she hadn’t given her daughter enough companionship in those early years.
A wave of bitterness rose in her chest.
‘I’ll persuade her again after she finishes playing.’
‘My daughter is smart enough, sensible enough—she just doesn’t understand the meaning of love. But in the end, she’ll understand her mother’s good intentions.’
‘Love isn’t a cage, nor is it the control of reporting your location and sending a selfie every half hour.’
‘True love should be like what she and Gao Hongzhi had back then—even with half the earth between them, they still trusted each other with peace of mind.’
She even began to fantasize about the day Gu Yebai would marry Gao Hongyi, the two of them standing side by side on the red carpet of a church.
….
‘Maybe there will be small quarrels in the future, maybe disagreements, but kind people will surely find happiness. And as her mother, I’ll walk half the road with them.’
‘Like a favorite TV show I never want to end, I’ll sit in the last row of the audience, smiling as they head toward their own ending, then quietly close my eyes.’
Thinking this, a slight smile curved Ya Xinyao’s lips.
Then the first note of the piano rang out.
Low, long, like a long-suppressed sigh.
Gao Hongyi’s fingertips finally fell.
Ya Xinyao was startled for a moment, then let out a soft breath.
Her daughter had always played the piano exceptionally well—even that picky, nearly harsh old professor from Paris had once praised her over the phone.
“There are stories in this child’s fingers.”
Today she finally had time, and as a mother, she ought to listen properly.
Thinking that, she adjusted her posture, leaned back against the sofa, as if truly sitting in the audience of the Vienna Golden Hall, ready to welcome a grand solo recital.
The light was dim, the piano notes rising.
The second note fell, like a silk ribbon brushing gently across a neck.
The third…
Ya Xinyao’s eyelids suddenly grew heavy.
‘So sleepy.’
She didn’t notice anything odd. She only felt that tonight’s “Nocturne” was unusually gentle—so gentle it made one… reluctant to blink.
….
‘My chest feels so tight…’
For some reason, Ya Xinyao felt she was in a space of extreme insecurity, as if she might be burned alive, or frozen to death, or even pierced by a thousand arrows…
Where was this place?
A few scattered notes, like sighs, like raindrops, fell on her eardrums.
Then the bass deepened.
The piano piece wrapped around her neck like a gentle silk ribbon, slowly tightening.
‘Has my daughter been in so much pain all along?’
Ya Xinyao suddenly felt as if an ice-cold hand was gripping her chest, making it hard to breathe, short and labored, as if she would suffocate in the next second.
In this strange, twisted environment…
“Hahahaha!”
A familiar yet strangely echoing laugh suddenly exploded.
It was Hongzhi’s voice.
Ya Xinyao’s vision blurred for a moment.
In a daze, she was back at the side of the sports field in middle school.
Back then, there was always a girl hovering around Gao Hongzhi, looking up at him, asking questions, laughing brightly and freely.
Gao Hongzhi always answered patiently, occasionally showing that gentle smile that made her heart flutter.
But now, that girl stood right beside Gao Hongzhi, the two of them very close.
Gao Hongzhi was laughing loudly at her, his shoulders trembling slightly, as if he had returned to his most carefree teenage years.
“Wait… Hongzhi!”
Ya Xinyao reached out instinctively, but only grabbed air.
The notes suddenly became dense, like a torrential downpour, wave after wave crashing into every inch of the living room.
Those were no longer mere melodies.
They turned into countless fine, thread-like red lines, seeping from the piano strings, crawling silently along the floor’s grain, the shadows in the corners, the gaps under the sofa—winding, tightening.
Ya Xinyao’s vision began to warp.
She saw Gao Hongzhi holding that girl’s hand, walking into a church.
She saw them exchange rings, their lips touching.
She saw that girl with a pregnant belly, nestled in his arms, laughing happily and contentedly.
She saw a child who looked like Gao Hongzhi lying on their laps, calling out “Daddy” in a baby voice.
“AHHHHHHH!!!”
Ya Xinyao suddenly clutched her head, her nails digging deep into her temples.
A sharp pain surged like a tide, tearing at her consciousness.
But the piano didn’t stop.
Instead, it grew denser, faster, as if countless hands were pressing the keys at once, as if they wanted to crush her soul, then reshape it.
She wanted to scream, to rush over and pull her daughter off the piano bench.
But her body felt nailed to the sofa, unable to move.
Only tears fell, one after another, onto the cover of the photo album, blurring the picture of the young Gao Hongzhi and little Gao Hongyi into a smear of red.
In the living room, the scent of jasmine had long been replaced by something heavier, stickier.
The piano continued.
Gently, cruelly, irreversibly, it continued.
….
‘Hongyi was right.’
Ya Xinyao suddenly saw a teenage girl curled up in a dark corner, sobbing.
A world reduced to only black and white.
“Why?”
“Why won’t even Mom take my side?” she murmured softly, her voice swallowed by the piano.
“Uncle Bai is so pitiful, he needs me so much… Why does everyone think I’m wrong?”
“I just want everyone to be happy!”
Even though Gao Hongyi hadn’t said those words aloud, Ya Xinyao still heard the meaning conveyed through the piano.
Her throat suddenly tightened.
“Xiao Yi…”
Her voice was very soft, almost drowned out by the piano.
She suddenly realized how cruel the words she had spoken earlier were.
Why should Xiao Yi let go?
Why should Xiao Yi suffer the pain of “being taken away”?
Her eyes inexplicably burned.
Her breathing quickened.
Gu Yebai… that boy brought back from Linchuan County.
He had once been so poor, so lonely, so in need of love.
Wasn’t he exactly the one Xiao Yi had been waiting for—the only person who could fill the void inside her?
If she let go, gave him space, if other girls got close to him… what would happen to Xiao Yi?
Ya Xinyao couldn’t even bear to imagine.
Tears began to fall.
It was just a piano piece…
But now, what Ya Xinyao heard was no longer merely a piano piece.
It was life. It was truth!
‘My daughter is right!’
‘If she doesn’t use GPS to locate Gu Yebai, other girls might take the chance. If she doesn’t make him send a selfie every thirty minutes, he might end up in some other girl’s bed…’
Too dangerous.
She absolutely couldn’t let her daughter be bullied.
She was this child’s mother.
She had to give her the strongest support possible!
Ya Xinyao slowly stood up, step by step, a little unsteadily, walking toward the Bösendorfer upright piano.
Gao Hongyi finally stopped.
The last note trembled in the air, like a sigh, like a farewell.
She turned her head and saw her mother standing behind her, eyes red-rimmed.
“Mom?”
Ya Xinyao didn’t speak.
She just reached out, gently hugged her daughter, and rested her chin on top of Gao Hongyi’s hair.
“Xiao Yi… Mom was wrong.”
Gao Hongyi’s body stiffened. “Mom… you understand?”
“Mm.”
Ya Xinyao’s voice was very soft, but carried a certainty she had never felt before.
“Xiao Gu is yours. He needs you. You did the right thing. You should manage him, control him, and not let him have even the slightest chance to leave your side.”
“You need to shorten the space between you.”
“If you two do… adult things, Mom supports it.”
“Mom wants to hold a grandchild.”
Gao Hongyi’s pupils widened slightly.
She didn’t ask why.
She only felt that a crack had appeared in that long-suppressed block of ice in her chest, and something warm slowly seeped in.
She hugged her mother back, her voice soft as a plea.
“Mom… will you really help me?”
“Yes.”
Ya Xinyao gently stroked her red hair.
“Mom will help you watch him. I won’t let anyone take him away.”
“Even if it affects Mom’s work, that’s okay.”
Gao Hongyi smiled.
She smiled like a child finally being understood.
She didn’t know that at that moment, the air in the living room seemed a little heavier than before.
She also didn’t know that those red threads had already silently coiled around her mother’s heart, turning her into a puppet…
“Mom, did I play the piano well?”
“Hongyi, in this world, I don’t think anyone will ever surpass you at playing the piano. When your father has some free time, he really should listen to your piece too.”
Ya Xinyao’s hand gently brushed through her daughter’s red hair.
‘I should stand more firmly on my daughter’s side.’
‘She’s the victim. She’s the poor child who feels the most insecure.’