Pieces of white paint had peeled away from the bedroom walls. A dim orange light glowed faintly in the corner, casting soft shadows across the room. Despite its age and poverty, the space was spotless and carefully arranged.
Ye took out a blank envelope. For the first time in a long while, his cold expression softened. He filled the pen with ink, then he began to write. He wrote:
[My baby, you should be four years old this year. This is a letter written by Mommy in heaven. Mommy misses you very much... Do you know what you want to become in the future? You can become a researcher, a star, or even a business genius. But remember this, every success has its own foundation. Never force yourself to carry burdens that do not belong to your age.]
[Do not rush to chase everything you desire. Learn to preserve your deepest silence. Become the kind of person whose strength only becomes visible when people look back. The wind will stir countless grains of sand into the sky. Stay quiet. Watch carefully. See the good and evil hidden within every grain. And when all the dust finally settles, you will be the one still standing, the true king.]
[Mom will write many more letters for you. Mom will also teach you many things. I know you like acting, so observe life carefully. Learn from reality. Copy emotions. Understand people.]
There was still much more written, but this time, his handwriting had changed. Gone was the wild cursive style from before; now it was neat block script. Beautiful and elegant. Almost as though he had deliberately practiced this handwriting for years... Just for this moment.
Only when the final page was finished did Ye suddenly cough violently. Once. Twice. Then harder.
He quietly wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, but his face remained expressionless. He folded the envelope carefully, sealed it, and finally wrote the last line upon it: [Mom Who Loves You Most]
Images displayed on the screen.
One showed Little Shuying standing on the balcony, crying softly while singing, her small face filled with confusion and grievance.
One showed Ye sitting alone in the bedroom after finishing the envelope, his face frighteningly pale.
One showed countless people outside the neighborhood mocking Ye, laughing at him as though he were a fool.
And the last showed everyone in the present day watching all of this unfold.
This moment completely exploded.
On the show, Shuying's beautiful eyes gradually lost their brightness. Her lips moved slightly, and she whispered softly to herself. For the first time, her heart hurt. Not anger nor resentment but pain. But even more than pain, it was onfusion.
"Why... Why did you write the envelope for when I was four years old... And the ones after that too... It couldn't have all been written by you. You were only helping. The important things... those came from my mother. I saw her. She appeared, she taught me, and she even handed me envelopes herself..."
Shuying kept speaking, but strangely, the more she argued, the more painful her heart became. It felt like she was staring directly at the most important truth in her life. Yet somehow... Could never see it clearly. At least one thing seemed certain now.
The idea "he" once insisted on... Was right. If four-year-old Little Shuying had only relied on a single song, she never would have survived. She might have become briefly popular, then vanished and been forgotten, crushed by the entertainment industry. Only true geniuses survive. Only those born extraordinary can endure endless competition and become lights that never fade.
But then, questions flooded her mind. Why had Father always told her, "Don't spend time with fools. Foolishness spreads."
Why, when she wanted to sing, did he force her to study classical literature? Why did he constantly question her? Push her? Scold her whenever she failed? Why did he relentlessly ask for retirement money after she grew older? Why did he become furious whenever she forgot? Why, when she once endorsed a problematic product, did he publicly say, "If she broke the law, arrest her immediately. Punish her. No exceptions."
He had always been harsh. Blunt. Unreasonable. Someone who never cared about feelings. Never explained himself. Never softened.
And somehow, without realizing it, she had become exactly the same. Stubborn. Proud. And Unyielding. Fearless before opponents. Unafraid of powerful corporations. Unafraid of criticism. Whenever people doubted her, she answered with results. With strength. With victory. But why... Why had "he" become that kind of person?
At this moment, only a few elderly people watching quietly seemed to understand something. They simply sighed.
"There is a kind of father whose love resembles a chessboard."
"At first glance, it looks cold. Hypocritical. Cruel."
"But every move exists for one final purpose."
"The ultimate destination."
And what was that destination? To stand above all others. To possess peerless brilliance. To reach the absolute peak of global entertainment.
But no one understood. No one. Even now, people still refuse to believe. Even seeing him write the letter, most people only believed this year's envelope was real. Everything after that, impossible.
Yu Shuying's rise... People insisted... Had nothing to do with Yu Ye.
At that same moment.
Inside Cheng Studio.
Cheng finally stopped crying and he wiped away his tears. Ignoring the complicated expressions of the employees around him, he stared silently at the screen. His voice was calm but complicated and heavy.
"I don't believe it. I don't believe you wrote those envelopes. I'm going there. I want to see with my own eyes how your daughter rose to where she is now. I don't believe it's your achievement. Maybe some things you said were right. But your daughter's success... Has nothing to do with you."
Cheng left. He took a taxi and rushed toward the filming location.
After confirming his identity, the production team personally invited him onto the stage. This was the third time Cheng and Shuying had met in fifteen years. The first time, she was four years old on a rooftop.
The second time, Shuying was four years and three months old, separated only by a narrow crack in a doorway.
The third time, fifteen years later, on this stage.
Looking at the woman standing before him. Taller than him. Beautiful beyond words. Possessing an overwhelming presence. Cheng suddenly felt pressure pressing down upon him. He could not help but sigh. How... Could a father create someone like this? She was a genius. A true genius.
"I only want to say one thing. Everything after Little Shuying's rise... Has nothing to do with her father!" Cheng said firmly.
And countless people in the stadium agreed.
"Exactly!"
"Who even wrote those envelopes? It wasn't her Mother."
"Cheng proved it!"
"He has no talent!"
"So what if he wrote letters?"
"You don't raise children by writing letters!"
"Shuying is a genius!"
"A genius like her can't simply be taught!"