While the Omega was in the restroom washing up and freshening up, Mother Jiang cleverly slipped into the kitchen. She sidled up to her daughter, lowered her voice, and asked, ghost-like, Who is she?
Jiang Ya was startled by her mother’s stealthy appearance: Hey! She… is just a business partner.
Mother Jiang carefully scrutinized her daughter’s face, failing to detect the slightest clue. Convinced that the Omega truly was just a business partner rather than anything more, more than half of her burning enthusiasm instantly cooled down.
Feeling that her daughter lacked drive, she snatched the slice of toast Jiang Ya had just baked and took a large bite. Then what about that cheap adult daughter of yours?
Jiang Ya didn’t get angry at having her toast stolen. Hearing her mother put it that way, she paused helplessly and retorted unhappily, The young lady isn’t even an adult yet; she’s only thirteen.
Mother Jiang was dissatisfied with her rebuttal and immediately snapped back, What’s the difference? Thirteen by nominal age, fourteen by traditional reckoning, in a flash fifteen, sixteen by false age, staring at seventeen, turning eighteen right away, heading straight for nineteen, and eyeing twenty!
Jiang Ya prepared the breakfast, handed two plates to Mother Jiang, and picked up two more herself, making four breakfast portions in total. Listening to her mother’s high-flown theories, Jiang Ya kept walking and replied as she headed out: Following your math, I’d round up to a hundred and could go straight into the ground.
She finally concluded, Mom, browse the internet less.
Mother Jiang wasn’t the least bit upset by being countered; she steadied her tray and followed her out: What do you know? Living by myself, surfing the internet with young people keeps me from being bored.
The two of them bantered back and forth, only calling a truce when they walked into the dining room.
Song Wanyi took the initiative to greet Mother Jiang, followed by the girl wearing oversized pajamas. At Song Wanyi’s prompt, Jiang Song’ai obediently and sweetly called out, Hello, Grandma.
Before coming over, Mother Jiang had heard her daughter mention the granddaughter who dropped out of nowhere, but she hadn’t taken it seriously at the time, assuming Jiang Ya had made up an excuse so she could travel abroad. It wasn’t until she saw them in person that she believed people could really pop up as if from a stone.
Her gaze was like a searchlight, looking back and forth between Jiang Ya and Song Wanyi, finally fixing on the child’s face. No matter how she looked at it, the child looked absurdly like both of them!
Jiang Ya was long used to it, and she invited Song Wanyi and Jiang Song’ai to sit down first. After three minutes passed, even she couldn’t stand it anymore: Mom, eat your breakfast first. They aren’t going to run away in the next second.
Only then did Madam Jiang sit down sheepishly, enthusiastically serving them food. Seeing her like this, Jiang Ya couldn’t bear to interrupt, and the words This isn’t a child born between me and Song Wanyi stuck in her throat, truly impossible to say out loud.
After all, for an elderly person of this age, accepting something as esoteric as time travel was probably even harder.
Who says I can’t accept it?
After the meal, once the child had been sent back to her room to play, and Jiang Ya tentatively spilled the whole truth, Madam Jiang surprisingly accepted it readily.
The speed was so fast it made Jiang Ya suspect she herself was the old-fashioned one.
Turning around to see her daughter’s thunderstruck expression, Madam Jiang put on the posture of someone who had seen it all and comforted her: You’re never too old to learn; you’re the one who told me that when you were little.
Jiang Ya was temporarily at a loss for words. Seeing that her mother was taking it well, she seized the opportunity to suggest: Alright then, how about registering the child’s household registration under your hukou?
Unexpectedly, at the mention of this matter, Madam Jiang firmly disagreed instead. She said, Isn’t this your child? Why put her on my hukou?
Jiang Ya pointed at herself, then glanced at the aside, acting-obedient Song Wanyi: Then do you want to see the two of us plastered all over the hot search? I still have an advertising contract that requires me to maintain a single persona. I don’t want to get doxxed by sasaeng fans and anti-fans, only for it to blow up that I have a child. My shock at suddenly having a kid wouldn’t be any less than my fans’.
She paused, striving to make her excuses sound rounder: Though I really am single.
Having said that, Jiang Ya noticed the Omega beside her glance in her direction.
So young, and you’ve already learned to threaten your old mom? Madam Jiang looked at her, then at the Omega. She knew her own daughter had a delicate relationship with this frequently trending celebrity. If it really harmed her career, it wouldn’t be good for anyone. Thus, she relented: Fine, seeing as I’m your mother. Just remember to book me a chartered flight to travel to Shangri-La once everything is settled.
Deal.
The child’s household registration issue was resolved. Jiang Ya swept her long hair back from her chest, only to bump into Song Wanyi’s deep gaze. She knew clearly in her heart that the person right in front of her was the much bigger trouble.
The matter is settled, Jiang Ya told her. When does Miss Song plan to leave my house? To put the other person at ease, she added, The child can stay with me.
Jiang Ya unreservedly displayed the cold rationality of an Alpha.
Song Wanyi seemed long used to it; faced with a Jiang Ya like this, she could even calmly quit while she was ahead: Thank you for your help. I’ll pack my things and leave shortly. Sorry to have intruded during this period.
Jiang Ya nodded: Also, I hope this matter, you know, I know, and my mom knows, will not reach a fourth person.
Understood.
The two people in conversation had no idea that every single word they said had been overheard by the girl squatting at the stairwell.
Jiang Song’ai pursed her lips. Seeing the two of them disperse, she hurried back into the room she had just been in, light-footed and before she could be discovered.
Locking the door from the inside, she walked quickly to the sofa by the floor-to-ceiling window, the tablet in her hand still flashing with its startup prompt.
Following the instructions, Jiang Song’ai created a new account.
Good thing registering software in this world doesn’t require binding a mobile number yet, she muttered softly to the tablet.
This tablet was an advertiser’s giveaway that Jiang Ya had dug out of boxes and cabinets for fear the child would be bored, giving it to her to pass the time.
Jiang Song’ai first opened the browser to search for background information about this world. After getting a rough understanding, she opened the social software most frequently used by domestic celebrities and registered an account.
Holding the tablet stylus, she lightly tapped her chin: What name should I choose?
She remembered when she first started elementary school, she had asked Mommy why she was called Jiang Song’ai.
At the time, Mommy had gently said, Because Mama sent Mommy full of love, which is why we have our little darling.
Jiang Song’ai…. Jiang Song’ai!
An inspiration flashed in her mind: Let’s just call it this.
After registration was complete, Jiang Song’ai couldn’t find a profile picture she liked, so she simply downloaded a drawing app.
Thinking of the appearance of her two mamas, plus herself, she drew a stick-figure picture of a family of three.
A family should be happy and harmonious like this. Jiang Song’ai smiled involuntarily at the stick figure in her avatar.
When drawing, she had chosen a purple paintbrush. But looking closely at the two smiling women in the drawing, she paused for a moment, switched to a white paintbrush, and added a few strands of silver to their hair.
Mamas… the girl muttered softly, her pen tip halting slightly, should have this hair color, right?
Only after finishing this did she begin researching the fandom culture and fan club rules of this world. Unfortunately, this world differed quite a bit from the one she originally came from, and many concepts were still unclear to her.
Jiang Song’ai sighed softly: Looks like today I can only register the account first and figure things out slowly in the future.
Turning off the tablet, she crept back to the door seam and strained her ears to listen to the movement outside.
It was dead silent; she didn’t know what the adults were doing. So she quietly pulled the door open a crack, wanting to take a sneak peek at the adults’ situation.
Just as she poked her head out, Jiang Song’ai was caught red-handed by Madam Jiang, who had been lying in wait nearby.
She got a start, and facing this grandmother she was meeting for the first time, timidity involuntarily flickered across her little face, though her voice remained crisp: Grandma.
Madam Jiang responded with a beam, her smile full of maternal affection and a liveliness uncommon for her age: Oh, little darling!
The familiar nickname made Jiang Song’ai’s round eyes light up instantly: Grandma, you know my nickname too?
Madam Jiang deliberately raised an eyebrow in surprise: What, in your world, you haven’t seen me?
Jiang Song’ai nodded. Seeing a flash of melancholy on the old woman’s face, she hurriedly patted her arm with her small hand, comforting her like a little adult: It’s probably because… I was born too late.
Hearing this, Madam Jiang’s curiosity grew even stronger. She simply sat down on the steps of the staircase, bringing herself to eye level with the little girl, and said solemnly: Let’s formally introduce ourselves; I’m Jiang Xuyin. Nice to meet you; please take care of me. As she spoke, she realistically extended her hand.
Jiang Song’ai cautiously looked at the hand she had extended, hesitated for a moment, and then timidly stretched out her own small hand to shake it lightly: Hello.
Jiang Xuyin immediately leaned closer, lowered her voice, and gossip gleamed in her eyes: Then can you secretly tell me the story of your world?
Afraid the child wouldn’t understand, she even gave an example: For instance, what are your Mama and Mommy like?
Jiang Song’ai subconsciously looked left and right, as if terrified of being overheard. Her voice dropped even lower, becoming almost a breath: I… I actually don’t know that much either. But I didn’t come from the future; it’s a parallel space… Ever since I can remember, the two of them were very affectionate and treated me especially well. Other things… I can’t remember a lot of it.
Jiang Xuyin felt somewhat surprised by her age-defying choice of words and explanation, and she pursued the question: Then how did you get here?
At the mention of this, Jiang Song’ai immediately raised her index finger and pressed it tightly against her lips: Shh! Not too loud, or we’ll get caught!
Her little face was written over with solemnity and a trace of imperceptible tension.
Having watched plenty of sci-fi dramas recommended by young people, Madam Jiang instantly understood her worry, imitated her gesture, lowered her voice mysteriously, and blinked: Understood, understood, we’ll talk quietly.
As soon as Jiang Ya stepped out of her bedroom, she saw an old person and a young child with their heads pressed together, whispering and muttering in the stairwell corner with focused, stealthy expressions. She shrugged helplessly and took a sip of coffee. Great, now the family’s most childlike old rascal and the pseudo-rascal little one had gotten together; peaceful days were definitely out of the question from here on out.
She leaned leisurely against the island counter of the open kitchen, her gaze calmly tracking the figure of Song Wanyi dragging her suitcase toward the front door.
Just as the Omega’s hand touched the doorknob, before she even had time to push it open, a flurry of hurried thump-thump footsteps came from the stairs, closing in fast.
Jiang Ya raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly, thinking to herself that what was coming had indeed arrived.
Wait,! Jiang Song’ai’s childishly anxious cry rang out first.
Hold your horses! Jiang Xuyin followed close behind, dramatic and vivid, instantly rendering the scene like a theatrical stage in a costume drama.
Song Wanyi predictably stopped in her tracks and turned back to look.
Pfft, cough cough! Jiang Ya almost choked on a mouthful of coffee. She put down her cup and expressionlessly watched the two of them sprint to the first floor, out of breath yet full of righteous indignation: What kind of play are the two of you putting on?
Jiang Song’ai instinctively wanted to pounce on Jiang Ya to act spoiled, but when her gaze hit that calm yet somewhat distant expression, she abruptly realized this wasn’t the Mama from her world who would gently scoop her up. Her half-extended little hand froze mid-air, and then she awkwardly pulled it back, gripping the hem of her clothes.
She pursed her lips, quickly organizing her words in her mind, trying to figure out how to say what came next effectively without being annoying.