Ch 25: After My Mother Returned to the Rich Family

In the grand hall, while the students prepared backstage, their parents gradually filled the seats, arranged according to their child’s class.

Both Ruan Cha and Song Mengyu were in Class Ten, and by chance, Wei Jiao and Liang Qianling found themselves seated next to each other.

At Second High School, most families were well-off. Those with outstanding family backgrounds and students achieving top academic results often ended up in Class One or Two.

As for Class Ten, it was mostly made up of underachievers. While parents in other sections discussed their children’s academics, IELTS, and TOEFL scores, the Class Ten parents focused on timeless topics like jewelry and fashion.

Liang Qianling glanced at Wei Jiao, deciding it was a good opportunity to showcase her connections in social circles. Spotting someone nearby, her face lit up. “Mrs. Xie, I heard you and Mr. Xie recently purchased a vineyard in France?”

“Oh, it’s just a shared love for wine,” Mrs. Xie replied modestly, looking down at the bag on Liang Qianling’s lap. She smiled. “That’s A’s latest design, isn’t it? I recently asked a friend to bring one back from Paris.”

Liang Qianling’s face flushed with pride at the mention of her bag. Despite being in her forties, she displayed a youthful shyness. “Oh, my husband brought a few back while on a business trip. He loves surprising me, even at his age.”

“I remember last year—”

Mrs. Xie: “…”

She regretted bringing up handbags.

In the usual social circles, Liang Qianling wasn’t unpleasant, provided you avoided the topic of her husband. The moment you mentioned him, she transformed into a relentless bragging machine, endlessly recounting even the smallest acts of affection, much to everyone’s annoyance.

Desperate to change the subject, Mrs. Xie turned her attention to Wei Jiao, who was reclining lazily in her seat. Dressed elegantly, Wei Jiao’s glowing complexion stood out, almost reflective under the hall’s lighting.

“Hello, may I ask which student you’re a parent of?”

Wei Jiao, slouched comfortably and waiting for her daughter’s performance, straightened slightly at the question. She smiled. “I’m Ruan Cha’s mother. You can just call me Ruan Cha’s mom.”

Back in their small town, Wei Jiao had always attended parent-teacher meetings. Among the parents, it was common to refer to one another as “so-and-so’s mom” rather than by formal titles.

“You’re Ruan Cha’s mom?” Mrs. Xie leaned forward with enthusiasm, her face lighting up. “Xie Chang’an is my son. I often hear him talking about Ruan Cha at home. Any classmate who gets my son’s constant praise must be exceptional.”

Wei Jiao met her gaze with sincerity. “What a coincidence! My Cha Cha also mentioned Chang’an, said he’s a great kid.”

In reality, her daughter rarely talked about classmates at home. Between studying and being dragged into games by her parents, she only ever mentioned Fu Chen. But Wei Jiao felt it was polite to return the compliment.

Besides, if a student praised her daughter often, it just showed they had good taste. By extension, that made them an excellent person, right?

Liang Qianling, who had been passionately recounting stories about her husband, realized no one was paying attention anymore. She fumed silently. You all with your loveless arranged marriages just can’t stand to see someone else happy!

No wonder your husbands don’t treasure you.

Liang Qianling was already fuming when she glanced over and saw Mrs. Xie chatting animatedly with Wei Jiao. This made her even angrier. Does Mrs. Xie have such terrible taste? Of all people to talk to, why Wei Jiao?

Unaware of Liang Qianling’s inner rant, Mrs. Xie smiled warmly at Wei Jiao. “Cha Cha’s mom, do you have any hobbies? Maybe we could arrange to meet up sometime—tea ceremonies, flower arranging, or perhaps a jewelry exhibit?”

Wei Jiao thought to herself, My favorite pastime is lying at home doing nothing while the money rolls in.

Of course, Wei Jiao had the emotional intelligence not to say that out loud. What if Mrs. Xie assumed her daughter shared the same laid-back attitude? Even though, to some extent, it wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Does gardening count?” Wei Jiao replied with a smile. “I usually grow a few cabbages at home and sell them when they’re ready.”

The surrounding parents visibly reacted to her words, their expressions stiffening. They clearly found her hobby too mundane, but they all maintained polite façades. After all, no one wanted to appear rude if others weren’t laughing.

Only Liang Qianling let out a faintly mocking snort. “What dedication to cabbages—dedicated enough to flatten your garden for a greenhouse.”

“Bragging about such lowly cabbages. Do you even have the nerve to say it?”

Mrs. Xie frowned slightly, clearly displeased with Liang Qianling’s tone. Among the social circle, Liang Qianling was notorious for her volatile temper. If someone ignored her endless bragging about her husband, she’d lash out immediately, often inserting passive-aggressive comments into conversations.

When news broke of the Liang family’s mix-up at the hospital years ago, most people speculated that Liang Qianling was the swapped child. It was a common joke that the family’s collective intelligence skipped over her entirely.

A lady seated behind them, who also found the idea of growing cabbages beneath her, took the opportunity to add, “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask someone at Seven Stars about their vegetable suppliers—especially their cabbages. Other restaurants emphasize the broth in their boiled cabbage dishes, but theirs shines because of the quality of the produce.”

Most intriguingly, it was rumored that eating their cabbage a few times could enhance one’s skin. But it remained just that—a rumor. After all, who could afford to eat it regularly?

“We’re already on it,” Liang Qianling said smugly, lifting her chin. “My husband knows the owner of Seven Stars and is inquiring about the supplier. Soon, our family will be serving their vegetables at our banquets.”

Wei Jiao: …

“Didn’t you hear? The supplier already cut ties with Seven Stars.”

“Second Sister,” Wei Jiao said lazily, slouching back into her chair. “Don’t waste your time. The supplier won’t sell to you. They’d rather let the produce rot in the ground.”

Liang Qianling’s eyebrows shot up, her face darkening. “Wei Jiao!”

“Don’t shout.” Wei Jiao rubbed her ears, speaking with unhurried composure. “For someone who claims to be so dignified, yelling like this in public—don’t you feel embarrassed?”

Mrs. Xie, who had been about to mediate, froze: Cha Cha’s mom is a lot tougher than I expected.

While it was rare for members of prominent families to clash openly, Liang Qianling’s earlier remarks had already crossed the line, leaving little reason to uphold appearances.

---

A few minutes later, the lights in the grand hall dimmed, marking the start of Second High’s annual arts festival at 2 PM.

The moment the hosts stepped on stage, Wei Jiao couldn’t be bothered with idle chatter. She pulled out her high-definition video camera and positioned herself so she wouldn’t block anyone’s view. She was fully prepared to record Tea Tea’s performance the moment it started.

Backstage, Ruan Cha had already handed over her freshly polished erhu and suona to the stage crew. Once the previous act ended, the crew would quickly set up the props and instruments for her performance.

On stage, Ren Qingqing and Xu Shen were performing Thaïs: Meditation. One played the piano, the other the violin, and together they delivered a beautifully harmonious performance.

Seeing Ruan Cha staring intently at the stage, Fu Chen glanced up briefly and asked casually, “Do you think they’re good?”

“They are,” Ruan Cha admitted, despite her dislike for Ren Qingqing. She wasn’t one to lie just to be contrary. “Their rhythm is smooth, the melody is beautiful—it’s a really lovely piece.”

After a pause, she added, “But when it comes to my erhu and suona skills, I’m not particularly proficient. It’s more like the kind of ability that barely fills half the bottle and sloshes around. Most of what I’m doing for our English club’s background music is… improvised shortcuts.”

Ruan Cha had always been a self-proclaimed slacker, only taking horse riding seriously and dedicating a full month to it. As for the erhu and suona, she had learned them to a passable level, nothing extraordinary.

Her dad had once joked:

“One day, if you ever get lost and can’t find your way home, you could always busk with an erhu or suona at the town square to get by.”

That younger Ruan Cha, terrified at the thought of becoming homeless, had dutifully practiced enough to make sure she could earn a living if necessary. Once her skill level reached a point where she wouldn’t starve, she stopped putting in the effort.

It wasn’t until the arts festival that she picked them up again for the performance. To her surprise, the system’s tasks had also started including musical challenges. That gave her an extra push to brush up her skills a few days earlier.

After her assessment, Ruan Cha continued, “My understanding of music is pretty shallow. When you ask me to evaluate something, I can only comment on the obvious—what the average person would recognize as pleasant to the ear.”

Fu Chen wasn’t surprised by her modesty. To be honest, after knowing Ruan Cha for a month and a half, he found her fascinating.

She had only mid-level skills in the erhu and suona but exuded such confidence that it felt like she could walk into Vienna’s grand hall and hold a solo concert without breaking a sweat.

And yet, if pressed, she would frankly admit her limitations without embellishing for the sake of appearances. It was so genuine that it was… almost endearing.

“They’re both technically skilled,” Fu Chen agreed. “And to be brutally honest, their fundamentals are a bit more solid than yours.” After a beat, he clarified, “Well, Ren Qingqing’s is slightly more solid. Xu Shen’s… maybe three times more.”

Ruan Cha: “…”

You really give advance warnings for roasting people???

That said, she had to admit the system, upgraded to version 2.0, had been targeting her weaknesses—subjects requiring artistry or experimentation—while she excelled more in rote memorization and critical analysis.

But who was Ruan Cha? Someone who silently completed five consecutive tasks without flinching. She would continue her upward climb, blazing through every challenge without looking back.

“It’s not brutal. Go on.”

Fu Chen’s eyes curved slightly with amusement, though his tone shifted to something more reflective. “Their technical skill is evident, but it’s overly focused on precision, lacking the tranquility and longing for peace that the piece is meant to convey.”

In simpler terms, their performance had too much craftsmanship and not enough soul.

“And their chemistry is a bit lacking. It feels like they were thrown together as a team right before going on stage.”

There was another observation Fu Chen kept to himself: Xu Shen’s skill level was clearly superior to Ren Qingqing’s. He had immersed himself entirely in his own performance, neglecting to accommodate Ren Qingqing. This imbalance caused her to falter and lose rhythm.

As for why Fu Chen didn’t point this out? He felt there was no need to praise Xu Shen in front of Ruan Cha, plain and simple.

Regardless, Ren Qingqing and Xu Shen’s rendition of Thaïs: Meditation ended with resounding applause from the audience—part genuine appreciation of the music and part blind adoration for Xu Shen.

Following their performance was a magic act, and then it was the English club’s turn. The host, holding the program sheet, walked steadily onto the stage. Facing the packed audience and distinguished guests seated in the front row, the host visibly swallowed nervously.

With a steady voice, he began, “Up next, let’s enjoy the English club’s musical performance, Subject Tea Party! Performed by Hua Zhonghao, Sun Feng… and accompanied by Ruan Cha and Fu Chen. The accompanying pieces—”

Everyone noticed the host’s peculiar pause as he glanced at the program sheet. “The accompanying pieces are… an erhu rendition of The Moon Reflected in Two Springs, and a suona and saxophone duet of Happiness Like a God.”

The audience: “???”

Are you mixing refined elegance with sheer audacity? Who’s dragging whom into whose world here?!