“Tongtong, who was that on the phone?”
Wei Ying had already noticed from outside that his niece didn’t look happy while taking the call. He stopped dodging, took a few solid hits from Old Master Wei’s cane, and then walked in.
Song Chutong blinked and answered honestly, “My dad.”
“Him?” Wei Ying scoffed.
He had never liked Song Weiqiang. Even back when the man married his sister, Wei Ying had thought he was slick and insincere—but he had been too young then for anyone to take his opinion seriously.
Six years ago, after his sister passed away, Wei Ying had even wanted to take Chutong back to the Wei family. But Song Weiqiang had cried, saying he had already lost his wife and couldn’t bear to lose his daughter too.
Yet less than a year later, he brought Bai Qingcui into the house.
If Song Chutong hadn’t personally insisted that Bai Qingcui treated her well, Wei Ying would have taken her away regardless.
Even though he was only seven years older, Wei Ying had always treated the niece he’d practically raised like his own daughter.
He poured himself a glass of water. “What now? He wants you to go back?”
Old Master Wei walked in as well, saying nothing, waiting for Song Chutong to decide for herself.
Song Chutong looked dispirited. “Yeah. He said my fight with Jiang Zhixing was all my fault, told me to reflect on what I did wrong. Oh—and that camera he ordered? I shouldn’t even think about it. He’s giving it to Ranran instead.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie.
Even though it hadn’t been mentioned directly on the phone, it was still the truth. She had wanted that camera so badly her eyes had turned red with envy. In her dream, her father gave it to Song Weiran and even said she didn’t deserve it since she hadn’t gotten the lead role.
Old Master Wei frowned. “What camera? Is it that rare? Tell Grandpa—I’ll get you one.”
Song Chutong sighed. “Grandpa, there’s only one in the entire capital. It’s a Japanese brand. Where would we even find another?”
“Who says we can’t?” Wei Ying immediately bristled. “So you argued with Jiang Zhixing, and without even asking, he just blamed you? I think your dad’s lost his mind. Whose father is he, anyway?”
“A Japanese brand? ‘Fuji,’ right? Tongtong, just wait. Your uncle will get you one—better than the one he’s giving Song Weiran!”
Song Chutong was secretly thrilled, but on the surface, she still looked downcast. “Dad likes my sister more… he doesn’t like me.”
Old Master Wei patted her hand and said firmly, “Don’t say that. You are your father’s biological daughter. He will always treat you best—you’re his only one.”
That was also why Old Master Wei had allowed Song Weiqiang to marry Bai Qingcui.
Back then, Song Weiqiang had promised he would never have more children with Bai Qingcui—that Song Chutong would remain his only biological child.
And over the years, he had kept that promise.
Old Master Wei felt both relieved and a little guilty. In those days, most families had several children. All he could do was try to comfort his granddaughter.
There was also the fact that, while he didn’t approve of favoring sons over daughters, Song Weiqiang came from the countryside. His parents had naturally wanted a grandson—but he had convinced them otherwise.
Still, it was impossible that it hadn’t affected him at all.
Song Chutong’s lashes trembled. She wrapped her arm around her grandfather’s and leaned against his shoulder. “Grandpa, I want to stay here for a while. I don’t want to go home.”
Old Master Wei smiled. “You can stay as long as you like. I’ll call your father tomorrow. But Tongtong, don’t stay angry with him for too long. He’s your elder, understand?”
“I understand.”
But her eyes darkened slightly.
How could she expose the truth—that Song Weiran was actually Song Weiqiang’s biological daughter?
Just saying it outright wouldn’t work. She needed proof.
The Wei family supported her, but they weren’t blindly biased. Without evidence, no one would believe her.
Besides, Song Weiran had a perfectly reasonable background on paper. Bai Qingcui had been married before, and her previous husband—who had died over a decade ago—was considered Song Weiran’s father. She even had “grandparents” in the countryside to complete the story.
If Song Chutong made accusations without evidence, people would only think she was targeting Song Weiran again.
Worse, it would alert them.
If that mother and daughter found out she knew the truth, they would only hide it more carefully.
Just then, Old Master Wei asked, “By the way, Tongtong—has your dance troupe chosen the lead yet? I heard the selection was today.”
Song Chutong pulled her grandfather to sit down on the sofa. “Yeah… it was my sister.”
“So Tongtong, you went and made a wedding dress for someone else again?” Wei Ying said from across the room, looking speechless.
Even Song Chutong felt exasperated with her past self.
She had never been particularly good at dancing, but she joined the dance troupe just because Jiang Zhixing liked girls who could dance. Turns out, it wasn’t that he liked dancers—he liked Song Weiran, who happened to dance.
Song Weiran wanted to make a big splash, and Jiang Zhixing supported her. Since he couldn’t help directly, he coaxed Song Chutong into going to her grandfather to secure the opportunity.
The more she thought about it, the more she regretted it.
Of course… she still had to keep up appearances.
Song Chutong pouted. “Well, what can I do if I’m not skilled enough? Dad even said I shouldn’t ruin my sister’s celebration today. That’s so unfair!”
Then she lowered her gaze and added softly, “But Ranran really does dance well. I accept it. I’m actually happy for her.”
If it was about pretending—she could do it too.
Wei Ying stared at her in surprise and started clapping. “Tongtong, you’ve grown up. Your uncle is proud of you!”
Song Chutong had to hold herself back from rolling her eyes.
Old Master Wei spread his hands helplessly. “It’s good that you can think this way. Originally, that opportunity was meant for the singing troupe. I specifically requested it be given to your dance troupe. But now that the chance was secured, if you didn’t have the ability, I can’t be blamed for that.”
Still, he felt a flicker of dissatisfaction toward Song Weiqiang.
His own daughter had just suffered two blows in one day, yet he was busy celebrating his stepdaughter?
Song Chutong thought, As expected of Grandpa—he said exactly what I was thinking.
She had been meaning to bring up the singing troupe anyway.
Back then, she had been so focused on helping Jiang Zhixing secure the opportunity for the dance troupe that she completely forgot about the singing troupe. In the end, she offended them, while Song Weiran got all the glory.
She had truly taken the loss.
But now… she wanted to turn the tables.
“By the way, Grandpa, could you help me with one more thing?”
Old Master Wei was already feeling sorry for her, so of course he agreed. “Go ahead, as long as it’s within my power.”
Song Chutong smiled brightly and fed him a slice of peeled apple. “Grandpa can do anything! There’s nothing you can’t handle!”
Old Master Wei burst into laughter.
Wei Ying shook his head from the side. “The old man really is easy to fool.”
Old Master Wei snorted. “I’m happy to be fooled.”
Song Chutong continued, “Grandpa, I think I was too selfish before. I only thought about our dance troupe and didn’t consider how hard it must have been for the singing troupe to get that opportunity. I think… they need it too.”
Old Master Wei narrowed his eyes, his tone turning slightly serious. “Tongtong, jealousy isn’t a good habit.”
Wei Ying immediately chimed in, “I support this—fully support it!”
Old Master Wei smacked him with his cane. “You, shut up!”
Then he turned back—
only to see Song Chutong looking at him with reddened eyes, pitiful and on the verge of tears. She bit her lip and said softly, “Grandpa… do you think so too? Dad and Jiang Zhixing always say that about me…”
The moment he saw her tears, Old Master Wei was helpless.
He had no experience raising girls, and now he was completely flustered. “Tongtong, do you want to give the opportunity back to the singing troupe? Fine, I agree!”
Inside, Song Chutong couldn’t help but marvel—
This whole “innocent white lotus” act really worked wonders.
Before, whenever she was criticized like that, she would just throw a tantrum. If she had known tears were this effective, would she ever have failed to cry?
She rubbed her eyes and asked innocently, “Grandpa, what are you talking about? I just wanted you to include the singing troupe too. Singing and dancing together would be great—more entertaining, and it wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. What do you think?”
Of course it would be great.
When singing and dancing shared the same stage, it was obvious which one would shine and which one would play the supporting role.
No matter how dazzling Song Weiran danced, she’d still just be background.
Old Master Wei blinked. “…Oh?”
“That’s all?”