The male commentator, Hai Tao, spoke. "Maybe he was only trying to survive. Who knows whether everything he did was for his daughter? But if that's true, then why did he educate his child this way? Why shape her future like this?"
The female commentator, Nana, immediately agreed. "Exactly! You have to remember what happened afterward. This was the beginning of Yu Shuying's rise. Why didn't he let her become a child star? Why did he keep such a gifted child hidden until this very moment, making this genius reveal herself to the world so late?"
At that moment, voices erupted across the gymnasium as people shouted encouragement from every corner.
"Come on, Yu Shuying!"
"You're the best!"
"You still have us!"
"We'll always support you!"
Yu Shuying lowered her head slightly and bowed.
At three years and eleven months old, she had already memorized the entire second verse. Now she was struggling with the final ending.
The image on the screen changed.
Winter had arrived, and the footage showed five o'clock in the morning.
Yu Ye quietly climbed out of bed. The first thing he did was walk to his daughter. Carefully and gently.
When he pulled the blanket higher to cover her small body, a cough nearly escaped his throat. His hand immediately covered his mouth, and blue veins pulsed faintly across his forehead.
After a few moments, he slowly stood and put on his worn-out coat. The fabric was thin, barely enough to fight the cold.
He walked into the kitchen and began preparing breakfast. When he finished, he quietly locked the doors. Extra precautions, measures to make sure no one entered while he was gone. Only then did he leave.
Outside, the winter wind screamed through the streets. Yu Ye rode his battered electric bike toward the school where he delivered meals. Snow gathered across his eyelashes, and his fingers trembled from the cold. But cold itself was not the worst thing; the dizziness, the splitting headache, and the exhaustion pressing into every bone, those were harder to endure.
At 8:30, he finally returned home. His daughter was sitting quietly. Waiting and obediently.
Two bowls sat on the table. One bowl is roast goose with rice porridge, and the other is plain rice porridge mixed with laoganma chili sauce. The roast goose belonged to his daughter, and the cheap meal belonged to Yu Ye. Little Shuying picked up food and carefully offered it to him, but Yu Ye smiled, then gently pushed it back.
"I cough whenever I eat meat," he said softly.
The audience watching couldn't help feeling their hearts tighten.
Little Shuying nodded seriously, believing him.
After breakfast, Yu Ye left again for construction work during the day. Heavy labor. Dust. Concrete. Exhaustion. He worked until evening, then rushed home. Cooked dinner. Cleaned. Taught. And before he knew it, it was already eight o'clock at night.
Little Shuying sat at her desk, and she was writing the final paragraph. The first line already existed.
"Insects fly..." Then, she froze, and her pencil stopped moving. She didn't know what came next.
Even Yu Shuying, watching years later, stared blankly. Was she really a genius?
Yu Ye smiled quietly. He reached out, touched Little Shuying's head, and then asked casually, "What do insects eat?"
Little Shuying held up her fingers while thinking. "Leaves... Soil... Little bugs... Flowers..."
Yu Ye pointed toward the darkness outside the window. "Insects fly away. The soil should sleep too."
Little Shuying nodded. "Okay."
She wrote, then stopped and shook her head. "It doesn't sound nice."
She lowered her pencil. "If Mom hears this song and gets angry..."
Her small voice softened. "Maybe flowers should sleep instead."
At that moment, Yu Shuying, watching from the present, suddenly clenched her hands tightly, but her father was still speaking.
"Call them together." Yu Ye smiled. "A pair. A team. Things look better that way."
Little Shuying thought carefully, then wrote again. One pair after another is beautiful.
Yu Ye continued speaking beside her. Softly and patiently, like warm water flowing through winter.
"Your mother is afraid of the dark. Do you think she's afraid of heartbreak? No. She loves you too much. She wouldn't be afraid. Not darkness. Not pain. Not exhaustion. Not distance. If she was searching for you... She would walk any road. No matter east. No matter west. No matter north. No matter south."
Yu Ye repeated those words countless times. Again. And again.
That month, little Shuying changed the lyrics over and over. Countless revisions. Countless attempts. Until finally, it was complete.
Little Shuyin, at three years old, held the lyrics carefully, then sang. And in that instant, an innocent voice. Pure, sweet, and gentle, yet carrying sorrow too heavy for childhood. A song that seemed to connect two moments across time, a bridge between longing and loss.
Dark sky.
Bright stars follow.
Insects fly.
Insects fly.
Who are you missing?
The stars in the sky are crying.
Withered roses cover the earth.
Cold wind.
Cold wind.
As long as you stay beside me.
Insects fly.
Flowers sleep.
One pair after another is beautiful.
Not afraid of darkness.
Only afraid of heartbreak.
No matter how tired.
No matter east.
West.
North.
Or south.
When the song ended, little Shuying grabbed her father's hand and looked up with eyes full of hope, "I wrote the song. When can I see Mom?"
Yu Ye looked at her quietly. "Soon. When many people sing your song and when many people like you, you'll see her."
Little Shuying nodded obediently. Seriously and earnestly.
No one realized it then, but it felt like prophecy. A prediction crossing fifteen years, connecting the little girl in front of him, to somewhere in the future. Late but inevitable.
Meanwhile, back in the studio, Yu Shuying stared silently, and her expression was complicated. Confused, bitter, and painful.
"So that's how the first song of my life appeared... It feels like a coincidence. But it wasn't. He planned it. He made me write it. He gave me confidence. He built my first dream. But the lyrics belonged to Mom. And Dad... He was only the messenger." Her voice slowly tightened.
"If you wanted me to shine so badly... Why did you destroy my first chance to become famous at four years old? Why take away every opportunity after that? Why deny everything I worked for? Since I was four... I never called you father again. And I don't regret it. Because you weren't worthy of it."
She stood alone. Lonely and motionless, like she had returned to being four years old again, holding books and studying. Other children laughed and played while her own world was endless learning. From childhood to adolescence, to every choice she ever made, she had fought her father her entire life.
"I haven't called you father since I was four years old... I don't regret it..." Her voice echoed across the audience.
Her sorrow no longer felt invisible; it became something real. Something heavy. Something that broke through every barrier.
Tears quietly appeared across countless faces, and viewers watching could only stare. Shocked and heartbroken. Unable to imagine what had happened when she was four years old. What kind of father-daughter conflict could become a wound lasting an entire lifetime?
And why, for all these years, had Yu Shuying never been willing to forgive?