In the program studio, Cihai suddenly turned to Haibo and asked: "Tell me... in a family trapped in poverty, what is the greatest wealth a child can possess?"
Haibo fell silent. He had grown up in an academic family. Though they were not particularly wealthy, they had lived stable and respectable lives. He had never truly experienced that kind of desperate hardship.
Cihai smiled faintly. He had been born in the countryside, worked in the fields, endured years of hardship, and experienced the bitterness of life firsthand. He believed that children could possess talent. They could be gifted. They could even be arrogant.
But for children born into poverty, perhaps no treasure was more precious than having an exceptional parent. A truly remarkable father. A truly remarkable mother. Yet... What did "truly remarkable" actually mean?
Even Cihai couldn't answer that question, because this was the first time he had encountered someone like Ye. His gaze remained fixed on the replay screen and he looked toward the future with anticipation.
If this man had never been hidden beneath layers of misunderstanding... If the world had truly seen him for who he was... What kind of person would he have become?
"Which one is the real you? The one who forced me to study every day... was that you? The one consumed by paranoia and emotional instability... was that you? The one who could chat and laugh with everyone in the marketplace... was that you? The one who made me memorize those obscure ancient texts I couldn't understand... was that you? When Grandpa demanded money, and you became furious... was that you?"
"But now... Who exactly are you?" Shuying couldn't stop herself from sinking into her memories.
There were simply too many. One after another, the people who had shaped her childhood resurfaced in her mind. And among them stood the most mysterious figure of all, Liu Shi. She still remembered that the man had suffered from mental illness.
"Back then... in that family overshadowed by illness, I practiced my lines every single day..." Shuying's voice trembled with sadness.
That period had been unimaginably difficult. At the time, countless children were competing for the role, so no one paid attention to her. Many people believed she was merely auditioning for an insignificant supporting role. Under immense pressure... She endured everything alone.
Her sorrow spread through the entire audience, and many young viewers seated in the front rows could feel it deeply. Her family didn't understand her. They couldn't support her. And they were constantly disrupted by illness.
What appeared to be a warm family from the outside... Was, in reality, a world where she stood alone. And she was barely seven years old. That winter in December... became a memory Little Shuying would carry for the rest of her life.
During that cold December...
Inside the slums, Little Shuying devoted herself to practicing. Occasionally, Ye would take her grocery shopping. Sometimes they returned home together. Other times, he would stop to make phone calls.
Whenever he spoke, his posture appeared weak and submissive. "What are you talking about? Don't worry. I'll pay the protection fee on time. Alright, brother. Understood."
He never bothered to hide these conversations, so his voice echoed openly through the living room.
Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Little Shuying listened quietly. As she listened, she found herself becoming increasingly immersed in Ying Zheng's character. When she finally delivered her lines... she genuinely felt as though she understood Ying Zheng's life. Born into nobility... yet raised as a hostage in a foreign land. Surrounded by uncertainty. Consumed by loneliness.
At that moment, she unconsciously merged her father's inferiority and helplessness into her understanding of the role. She transformed those emotions into Ying Zheng's experiences. And when she spoke again... something within her had changed. The determination in her eyes had undergone a complete transformation.
It no longer resembled acting. It resembled understanding. Because true resolve... and genuine tension... often came from real-life experiences.
Yet because of this... Little Shuying disliked her father even more.
Until one day... Ye returned home after being away. His clothes were filthy and bruises covered his body. It looked as though he had lost a fight. And deliberately or not, what Little Shuying saw was a man utterly defeated by life.
She frowned and an overwhelming sense of powerlessness washed over her. The helplessness she felt toward her family only strengthened her resolve.
"Ha..." For the first time, she sighed softly while sitting alone in her bedroom.
At that moment... she felt truly lonely. It was as if this father had never given her the security she longed for. Instead, he had shown her only one truth: that everyone in this world struggled desperately just to survive.
"I want to shine. I want to become stronger. I don't want to become someone like him." For the first time, Little Shuying spoke those words beneath the pale white light of her room.
The scene felt unbearably lonely. Separated by only a single door... yet it seemed as though father and daughter already stood on opposite sides of the future.
Back in the studio, several young women quietly wiped tears from their eyes.
"So this is where her inner strength came from?"
"Even with such a timid father, she refused to become like him. Instead, she chose to become stronger, to become someone better. That's why she never feels inferior in front of the cameras."
"What an extraordinary girl."
"She's truly incredible!"
"Like a sunflower..."
"Always turning toward the light."
This... was the real Yu Shuying. There was no doubt. In that era, many parents unknowingly passed their weaknesses onto their children. Their fears. Their limitations. Even their understanding of the world. All of it was inherited.
But Little Shuying was completely different. She did not fear darkness. She did not fear adversity. She feared nothing. The strength of character she displayed left everyone speechless.
However... Several scholars seated in the front rows frowned. Many of the older audience members sensed that something wasn't right because none of this aligned with Ye's fundamental nature.
As expected, the replay continued.
Inside the bedroom, Little Shuying's determination quietly solidified. Meanwhile, standing alone on the balcony, Ye stared into the mirror and his eyes overflowed with gentleness.
"Even if you grit your teeth and endure... your time won't be long. So you have to become the villain in her life. You know your daughter is strong. That's why you must show her weakness. Show her cowardice... Show her sorrow... Show her what it means to live at the bottom... You have to make her despise this kind of person from the depths of her soul. Only then... Will she never become this kind of person herself?"
"No one will understand you. But at least after you're gone... Your daughter won't fall into despair... She won't lose her way... She won't become another confused child drifting aimlessly through life..." Ye whispered these words to his own reflection as he stood there completely alone.
This was the only thing he believed he could do. What other choice did he have? The illness continued to worsen, and it relentlessly consumed him. Every night, he feared that once he closed his eyes... he might never wake up again. Death itself wasn't frightening, as he had never feared dying. What terrified him... was leaving his daughter behind.
At that moment, Yuan Quan, a guest on the program and former director of a Hospital, slowly rose to his feet as something had suddenly come back to him. "When Little Shuying was seven years old... Ye underwent a comprehensive medical examination at our hospital. That was when we confirmed that his brain cancer had already begun to spread. When he asked me how much time he had left... I couldn't answer him."
Yuan Quan's voice grew hoarse. "I remember how panicked he looked. At the time, I thought he was afraid of death."
He paused. Then, as if finally understanding after all these years, he spoke softly: "But now I realize... You weren't afraid of dying. You were afraid for your daughter's future. You were afraid that after you were gone, she would become like those abandoned children... Lost... Decadent... Confused... And walking down the wrong path."
"So that was what truly frightened you..." Quan sighed deeply. Even now, he could vividly remember that day over a decade ago.
Ye had just finished work at the printing factory, and he still wore his faded work uniform, making the pungent scent of printing ink linger around him. His exhausted eyes were filled with anxiety and desperation.
Looking at Quan, he asked in a trembling voice: "Doctor... How much longer can I live?"