Zong Chi’s romance was not a secret within the Zong family; on the contrary, he never intended to hide it from his parents from the very beginning.
It was impossible to keep it hidden anyway.
As Old Zong put it, seeing him grin at his phone like that—did he find money on the ground?
Impossible. Even if he’d found a dog head gold nugget, he wouldn’t be smiling like that.
So, his parents learned from him directly that he was indeed in love.
Zong Jingzhou even doubted, asking, “Are you sure? Are you sure the girl said yes to you herself, and it’s not just your imagination?”
Zong Chi bristled and snapped at the old man, “What kind of question is that?”
Old Zong lectured, “I mean, you sincerely confessed, and she sincerely agreed. It’s not that you’re reading too much into things—like if she invites you to a class reunion or casually hands you a napkin at the table, you don’t just assume she has feelings for you.”
Zong Chi, irritated, left the table.
The verbal sparring between father and son never ceased.
In front of his mother, he mocked Old Zong, “You say all this like you’ve summarized it from many women.”
Yu Weishi’s expression darkened.
She put down her chopsticks and sternly scolded Zong Chi, “Xiao Chi, you’re used to our ways at home, but if you act like this outside, people will say you’re arrogant and rude, and they might even criticize your father and me for poor upbringing.”
That night, after washing up, Old Zong had a private talk with him.
Straight to the point, he tested the waters, “Your mother doesn’t seem very happy about your relationship and friends.”
Zong Chi just ignored it with a grunt.
“If such dissatisfaction worked, then you wouldn’t have the chance to lecture me.”
Zong Jingzhou seemed to have anticipated his son’s words and said it was time to convey his mother’s message.
At this age, love is like a flood—you can’t stop it.
But as parents, they cannot neglect certain educational responsibilities just because he is their son.
In short, they hoped Zong Chi understood: before he truly knew what sex and safety were, he shouldn’t recklessly cause irreversible trouble.
Zong Jingzhou was usually decisive and ruthless but rarely lost his composure.
He warned his son not to take things lightly.
“I heard from your mother that your female classmate is even a year younger than you.”
Yu Weishi’s meaning was clear—she hoped Xiao Chi would cultivate himself and wait until both of them were adults, physically and mentally mature.
Zong Chi thought it was rare for Old Zong to be so nagging.
At first, he teased him, “How mature are we talking about?”
Zong Jingzhou replied matter-of-factly, “At the very least, until the girl turns twenty, if you’re still together then.”
Zong Chi thought Old Zong was talking nonsense.
“She’ll be twenty when I’m twenty-one. Why should I—”
Zong Jingzhou immediately saw through him, “Alright, I know you’re still a kid now. I’m relieved…well, relieved for your classmate He.”
He Dongli’s attitude toward love was more laid-back.
She had no plans to tell her family prematurely.
Whenever she called Yu Xiaohan, she would order Zong Chi to keep quiet.
At that time, Zong Chi was unhappy and asked, “Am I really that shameful?”
He Dongli explained that she just didn’t want her mother to question her too much.
“And what if she does?”
He Dongli sighed, “Then I’d have to start explaining about the Affiliated School’s selective admissions, and then my mother would gossip and ask, ‘Aren’t you really annoyed by that boy who copies your answers?’”
As she spoke, He Dongli realized she had slipped up.
She quickly corrected herself, showing the size of a fingernail on her pinky, “Actually, it’s not that many. I mean, annoyed—at least before the exam that day, you arrived last, and the teacher said you could only bring your pencil case in. You tossed your bag at the door and sneaked in through the back door to find your seat….”
“How was it?”
Zong Chi asked with a sullen face.
“It shocked me a little. So yes, I was a bit disappointed when you copied answers. Yes, disappointed.”
Reluctantly appeased, Zong Chi’s thoughts took a sharp turn.
“Alright, since your mom already knows about me so early…”
He Dongli was speechless.
Just when she thought the topic was over, Zong Chi suddenly asked, “Then when would be the right time?”
“Huh?”
He Dongli looked confused.
Zong Chi continued, “When would you feel it’s appropriate to introduce me to your mother?”
He Dongli hadn’t thought about that question before, and she couldn’t explain why she didn’t want her mother to know.
It was only after breaking up with Zong Chi and sharing a heartfelt conversation at her mother’s bedside that she confessed: when she first learned Zong Chi was involved with Xu Shushu, she hated him.
She even thought he was betraying her father.
It wasn’t until the years she spent with Zong Chi that she realized the feeling of having a heart fully filled with someone was undeniable—the kind of feeling no one could reject.
The loneliness and hardship made the desire for a companion to lean on not shameful.
“Mom, when I first got together with him, I didn’t want to tell you. I even felt I had a reasonable excuse to escape you. I didn’t tell you, just like how I was the last to know you were marrying Xu Shushu.”
But Zong Chi was too high-profile; he even followed A Sheng to the wedding.
She happily introduced him to relatives and privately asked when it started, how far it had gone, repeatedly emphasizing, “No matter what, don’t mess things up. Xixi, you know what I mean—girls always suffer more.”
Their family’s complicated situation aside, regardless of whether she could truly be with him, it was telling enough that his mother took nearly twenty years to be acknowledged by the matriarch before she passed.
It showed how strict the family’s rules were.
Such a family would never be fooled by whether a child was born in or out of wedlock.
“Xixi, you have to be clear-headed. Zong Chi has definitely been spoiled by his mother. You like him, but I’m afraid you’ll suffer. Their family treasures their children, but you, with your studies, have always been impressive too.”
Moved, Yu Xiaohan wiped away tears but smiled, “I wonder if your father would approve of him…”
It was at that moment He Dongli truly let go.
She later told her mother, “I was angry with you for a while, but I’ve thought it through these years. No one is anyone else’s eternal widow. Life must go on. On the bright side, at least you supported me. I saw you live without worries all these years; I’ve lived freely. If it were Dad, I think he would remarry too—with a new wife and children. That new family would be even closer-knit. Maybe I wouldn’t even have a place to share my private desires with family anymore.”
Yu Xiaohan cared deeply about her daughter’s romance, loving even Zong Chi almost like a son.
She doted on him—from celebrating his successful completion of his first project to small things like picking up his socks…
In the end, all she got was Zong Chi’s overwhelming disdain.
Back then, when he came to the Xu family to find her, He Dongli had promised Yu Xiaohan to come back for Spring Festival.
Seeing Zong Chi’s car during the holidays, Yu Xiaohan invited him in.
That was the only time Yu Xiaohan exercised the authority of the girl’s family in front of Zong Chi.
She believed her daughter had the right to break up with someone she was incompatible with.
Zong Chi insisted on seeing He Dongli to ask her one question face-to-face.
Before he almost dropped out of Yizhong, did He Dongli have a conflict with the Xu siblings?
During that conflict, Xu Xilin used Zong Chi to humiliate her.
Was that why He Dongli went to the swimming pool to confront him?
He wanted to ask if that was really her true motive to stay with him—that maybe she never took him seriously, and at that moment, he was just a lifebuoy, a tool to take revenge on Xu Xilin.
Everyone saw him as a lost cause, but He Dongli’s few intoxicated words had fooled him into staying.
He was her trophy.
He Dongli never imagined that a reckless decision before she turned sixteen, which should have been their beginning, ended up becoming the final brick that brought down their walls.
She never confronted Zong Chi about how he found out, only accepting bitterly: yes, Zong Chi, when I comforted you or said goodbye, it was all fake.
The real, vicious intent was to take revenge on the Xu family and Xu Xilin.
Because I couldn’t have you, I had to find a way to get you.
Yu Xiaohan refused to let Xixi speak recklessly.
Even so, she showed a gentle face to Zong Chi, wanting him to understand what kind of person Xixi was.
“I think you know her best. If you don’t, or if you easily trust others, then my daughter breaking up with you is justified.”
When Xu Maosen came upstairs and invited them to sit together—during the holidays, Zong Chi’s visit was rare…
Before anyone could say more, Zong Chi brushed off Xu Maosen’s flattering kindness and negotiated with Yu Xiaohan that he wanted to take He Dongli out alone for a while.
Yu Xiaohan refused, sternly telling Zong Chi, “With your yelling and threats, no mother would entrust her daughter to you. Xixi is right—you’re already incompatible. Dragging this out will only hurt both of you. Maybe you should cool down separately.”
Yu Xiaohan still called him Xiao Chi affectionately.
Over the years, she had treated him well and felt she didn’t need to claim credit.
Whenever he returned home or met Xixi, she started her day at dawn preparing.
A mother-in-law who treated her son-in-law well hoped he would treat her daughter better.
But Zong Chi, ask yourself how you treat Xixi.
I don’t need to ask her; just seeing her occasional weight loss or worried expression shows you’ve probably argued again.
When you come back, you have plenty of energy and money, which is good, but Xixi has her studies and energy too.
You can’t just demand she be at your beck and call.
When she complains about internship exhaustion, she’s confiding in you, hoping you’ll hold and encourage her, not tell her to quit studying or give up…
Do you know how guilty she feels for damaging your car?
I offered to pay, but she refused, knowing you wouldn’t accept her money.
That incident alone shows your problems clearly—one is careless, the other unintentional.
She has heavy studies and many responsibilities; even the strongest would be exhausted.
If she has to choose, I support my daughter’s choice…
Zong Chi had never been so humiliated.
His reckless nature led him to say arrogant and contemptuous things.
He blamed Yu Xiaohan for everything He Dongli endured, including the humiliation by the Xu siblings before his dropout, feeling that she didn’t truly love her daughter.
If she hadn’t been tied to that man, how would things have gotten so bad?
His reckless words nearly destroyed the last bit of affection He Dongli had left.
Sometimes, the truth no longer mattered—it was the skin you tore off, leaving her with no hope of even surviving.
She fought back, and the most cutting part was her telling Zong Chi that perhaps it was precisely because of how he looked down on her mother’s sacrifices that their paths crossed.
“Tell me, is this fate or misfortune?”
Zong Chi was struck by his own arrow, hitting him squarely between the brows.
That day, their quarrel was nearly unresolvable—they were no longer just a bickering couple heading for a breakup.
Later, Yu Xiaohan sighed to Xixi, “Couples who divorce after twenty years don’t usually put on such a big show. You two are truly living enemies, and that ancestor of yours is a bandit.”
Five years later, Zong Chi dared not imagine Yu Xiaohan’s reaction if she saw him again beside her daughter.
He couldn’t figure out how to face Mrs. Yu.
His greatest regret was ever defying her; she treated him better than his own mother ever did.
He still remembered the first time he met Yu Xiaohan at the airport—he bought her flowers, and she teasingly praised him, “You look so much better than your graduation photo.”
Yu Xiaohan told Zong Chi that during their year at the Affiliated School, the name Zong Chi was the one Xixi mentioned most at home: “He’s late again today. He should be called ‘Late Zong’ because to avoid the homeroom teacher, he tossed his backpack into the next classroom and sneaked in through the back door. At the charity sale, he brought a limited edition Gundam but scowled, saying he wasn’t selling it.”
He Dongli asked him, “Then why bring it?”
Zong Chi shrugged at Xixi, “Otherwise, how do you think you’d sell these childish things? I think it’s because of my limited edition figures that people come over.”
Such trivial memories were too many, to the point Yu Xiaohan only remembered Xixi had a classmate surnamed Zong.
When the ninth-grade graduation photos came back, Yu Xiaohan instinctively looked for that Zong.
Zong Chi laughed heartily upon hearing this, teasing Yu Xiaohan, “So you mean Xixi liked me back then?”
That was the first time he learned her nickname and real name were reversed.
Zong Chi knew he had hurt He Dongli’s last shred of dignity.
So, he didn’t dare ask those around him what she meant by not letting her mother hear about him—was it the same feeling as when she didn’t want her mother to know they were together?
The car pulled up at He Dongli’s place.
Zong Chi hurried to her side before she got out and opened the door.
He Dongli handed back his jacket.
Zong Chi carefully took it, gazing at her profile.
His phone, just reconnected, had already rung several times.
He showed her the screen, “The secretary called me a few times. There’s a conference call that should last about forty or fifty minutes. My phone’s almost dead. Can I borrow your charger to finish the call, Xixi?”
That night, Zong Chi’s conference call lasted nearly eighty minutes.
He started on the sofa in He Dongli’s room, talking for almost twenty minutes.
When he saw her come back from the shower, he politely moved out to the hallway.
When the power bank ran out and his phone’s battery began draining again, the meeting finally ended.
When Zong Chi tried to re-enter, he found the room already filled with warm steam.
The sliding door to her bedroom was tightly shut, her way of keeping visitors out.
Or perhaps she was just exhausted after a long day and should be resting.
Zong Chi placed her power bank back where he found it and noticed a plate of beef patty, egg, and bagel sandwiches on the familiar coffee table.
Only half remained, a habit she had—if she only wanted half an onion donut sandwich for dinner, she’d have him share it.
He grabbed a napkin, wrapped the half-moon sandwich, and held it in his hand.
Because of the heater, the cheese inside had begun to melt.
He brought it to his lips for a bite, then returned to the sliding door of her bedroom and knocked gently but received no answer.
He called out softly, “The meeting’s over, I’m leaving. Took the sandwich too. Sleep early.”
He Dongli, lying sideways on the bed, heard footsteps fading outside, then the door open and close, followed by the sound of the car starting and driving away.
She lay back down, knowing this damned guy would cause her sleeplessness once again.
The next morning, He Dongli woke up to find someone’s jacket still tossed on the sofa.
After washing up and preparing for her morning run to the hospital, she noticed a makeshift whiteboard taped to the wall in the hallway where Zong Chi had been on the phone.
It was scribbled with various data and times, some in English, some in French.
Beneath the graffiti was a neat line of Chinese characters, like a message: “Sunday evening at six, I’ll come to pick you up.”
Signed with the familiar phrase: Famous Yet Nameless.
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