Chapter 7: Living With… Zhu Yiqiao
On the ride back to Huifu Gardens, Ming Fei was in a daze.
It wasn’t until Li Xing waved her phone in front of Ming Fei’s face and called her name twice that she snapped out of her stupor from the recent conversation with Zhu Yiqiao.
“—Ming Fei, Ming Fei.”
“Huh?”
“What are you thinking about?” Li Xing pinched Ming Zaozao’s cheek. “What’s going on? How did you get involved with the Court?”
This wasn’t something easily explained in a few words, especially after learning about… Zhu Yiqiao’s other role in her life. Ming Fei was utterly bewildered.
She opened the car window, taking a deep breath. “What did Secretary-General Wei tell you?”
The post-rain autumn breeze carried lingering moisture. Li Xing’s bangs fluttered in the wind as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Just as she was about to answer, Ming Zaozao, sitting between them, leaned against Ming Fei.
Ming Zaozao hadn’t slept well these past two days, had woken up early this morning, and had cried several times. Now, in the car, her eyelids were drooping.
“Mama,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “Baby’s sleepy.”
They quickly closed the window. The autopilot system pulled the car over to the side of the road, and Ming Fei carried Ming Zaozao to the back seat. She bent down and kissed her cheek, tucked her in, and returned to the front seat once Ming Zaozao was asleep.
A faint scent of gardenia filled the car, calming and refreshing.
Lowering her voice, Li Xing finally replied, “Wei Lingyu told me you were connected to a case they’re investigating. She didn’t give me any details, just asked me to look after Zaozao for a couple of days.”
Ming Fei carefully chose her words. “The Court found a location linked to the SE Group’s gene theft operation. I’d been there before when I was buying something for Zaozao, and I’d also contacted the manager online. Because of several coincidences, the Court brought me in for questioning.”
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Li Xing. This matter was too complicated, both professionally and personally. Before the individuals involved in the gene theft were apprehended, and before Zhu Yiqiao made an official statement, Ming Fei felt it was best to keep things quiet.
“What?!” Li Xing was astonished. “How can that be such a coincidence?”
“Yes.” A flicker of helplessness crossed Ming Fei’s eyes. “It’s… just a coincidence.”
A coincidence so unbelievable she still couldn’t quite process it. That Chief Justice Zhu, admired, revered, and feared by the citizens of Yi Meng Independent State, someone at the pinnacle of power, was actually her daughter’s other biological mother.
Initially, when she heard Zhu Yiqiao say Ming Yi’s name under the ginkgo tree, Ming Fei hadn’t understood. As an ordinary citizen, she wouldn’t dare, nor would she want to, entertain such a thought. It seemed absurd.
So, she had simply smiled and replied to Zhu Yiqiao, “Yes, Zaozao is very cute. Chief Justice Zhu is so young and accomplished, I’m sure your daughter is also bright and adorable.”
The next instant—
Zhu Yiqiao’s words shattered her carefully constructed facade of calm and composure.
“Ming Yi is my daughter.”
If they ignored the cleaning robots sweeping up the fallen ginkgo leaves, it had been just the two of them under the tree. Yet Ming Fei felt a tremor, a deep resonance within her soul.
Ming Yi, Ming Zaozao, her daughter.
Zhu Yiqiao, the current Chief Justice of the Court.
Her mind, like an outdated processor in need of repair, struggled to process Zhu Yiqiao’s words. Slowly, she began to piece things together, to connect Ming Zaozao and Zhu Yiqiao. As the realization dawned on her that their relationship… might not be so simple after all, she finally understood why the head of the Court had appeared at Huifu Gardens.
It might be related to the gene theft case, but more importantly, it was likely because she had unknowingly used a genetic sample that wasn’t in the database.
—And that sample belonged to Zhu Yiqiao.
Understanding this, Ming Fei’s face paled, her hands trembling slightly.
But before the sword of Damocles hanging over her head fell, a sliver of hope remained. She looked up at the woman standing a few steps away, searching for any sign of hope in those eyes, which bore a slight resemblance to Ming Zaozao’s.
After a long, tense silence, her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke.
“Chief Justice Zhu,” she asked softly, “Could there be some kind of misunderstanding? Are you sure there’s no mistake?”
In contrast to her distress, Zhu Yiqiao was unnervingly calm. “A minute ago, all the information regarding Ming Yi and myself was sent to your phone.”
The cleaning robots swept the ground clean, not a single leaf remaining. Just like Ming Fei’s world before she turned twenty-two—barren and empty.
In the Yi Meng Independent State, a law enacted in the year 100 NE decreed that every Wednesday at 5:00 pm, the ancient bell at the Government Hall would toll in remembrance of those who perished during the viral crisis a century ago.
This day was no exception. The solemn, lingering sound of the bell reverberated through the air. As the last echoes faded, rain began to fall.
At that moment, two meetings had just concluded within the Court. The first focused on advancing the prosecutorial work in the South District, and the second revolved around the crucial gene theft case.
Following the meetings, major media outlets immediately reported the latest developments in the investigation—the Court was diligently pursuing all leads and promised to release a list of all individuals involved by next month.
In contrast to the heated discussions online, the Court building at 6:00 pm was quiet.
The only one working overtime was Secretary-General Wei Lingyu, who was currently in the Chief Justice’s office on the sixteenth floor, giving her report. Her hair, just past her shoulders, was neatly styled. She wore gold-rimmed glasses and a rose quartz wristwatch that seemed slightly at odds with her sharp, professional demeanor.
“…At 3:00 pm on September 11th, Ming Yi told me five times that she missed her mother. I asked Li Xing about Ming Yi’s usual behavior when separated from Ms. Ming. She said Ming Yi is very well-behaved and understanding and never pesters anyone saying she misses her mother.”
“At 7:00 pm on September 11th, according to incomplete statistics, Ming Yi expressed her longing for her mother a total of twenty times.”
“At 10:00 pm on September 11th, Ming Yi expressed this over thirty-five times, and in the last minute before falling asleep, she cried.”
“…At 7:45 am on September 12th, Ming Yi woke up crying and again…”
In the spacious office, Zhu Yiqiao, having removed her uniform jacket and now in a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to her elbows, retrieved a training pistol from a drawer. She fired a shot at the distant target, and as she raised the gun again, she turned her head and asked, “Anything else?”
Secretary-General Wei was accustomed to this. The Chief Justice’s constant companion was well-known within the Court, but as live firearms weren’t permitted inside the building, a training range had been set up in the right wing of her office.
Adjusting her glasses, Wei Lingyu continued, “Based on my observation and interaction with them, regardless of Ms. Ming’s possible involvement in the gene theft, she clearly cherishes Ming Yi. And Ming Yi also… In conclusion, Ms. Ming’s statements regarding the gene cultivation and Ming Yi are likely truthful.”
The last bullet was spent, and Zhu Yiqiao’s hair, previously tied back, came undone.
She didn’t bother fixing it, letting her long black hair cascade down. “Mm, thank you for your hard work.”
“Click.”
After clearing security, Lan Lubai and Min Man suddenly appeared.
Lan Lubai, looking at the diligently working Secretary-General, commented with a smile, “Secretary-General Wei, still working?”
Wei Lingyu smiled. “It’s my honor to serve the Court.”
“That’s quite a unique watch you’re wearing today, Secretary-General Wei.”
“Yes.” Wei Lingyu’s smile widened. “My fiancée gave it to me.”
Zhu Yiqiao said, “You’ve worked hard. You can go home now.”
Wei Lingyu bowed slightly. “Goodbye, Chief Justice.”
The door closed again, leaving only the three of them. Zhu Yiqiao placed the empty pistol in the drawer, her gaze falling upon a file on her desk. She had ordered a full background check on Ming Fei after learning of her and Ming Yi’s existence. The few pages concisely summarized Ming Fei’s entire life.
She turned the last page, her eyes settling on the photo at the top.
Perhaps she paused for too long because Lan Lubai leaned in and asked, “Boss, what are you looking at?”
“Huh? Isn’t that Ming Fei’s picture?” The usually boisterous Lan Lubai paused. “Boss, what are you planning? You released Ming Fei early this afternoon, was it really all because of Zaozao?”
Zhu Yiqiao closed the file, calmly dropping a bombshell.
“I’ll be moving into Huifu Gardens on Friday.”
This time, not only was Lan Lubai shocked, but even the usually composed Min Man was stunned. Lan Lubai, at first surprised and bewildered, finally seemed to understand.
With a knowing look, she said, “Yiqiao, I knew it! You have other intentions towards Ming Fei, don’t you?”
Amidst the silence, Lan Lubai’s certainty grew. She seemed smug about having guessed Zhu Yiqiao’s thoughts, strutting around her like a peacock, observing her expression and solidifying her assumptions.
“I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Yiqiao, oh Yiqiao, you’re on a roll! First, you discover you have an adorable daughter, and now you’ve found someone you like, and you’re about to have the perfect opportunity to woo her.”
“I’m truly happy for you, but how does the saying go? A troubled mind makes for an unsteady hand.” She recalled Ming Fei’s file. “Ming Fei is indeed quite remarkable, so young and already a university professor—”
Zhu Yiqiao, who had remained silent, retrieved her sidearm.
The gun she carried today was a Rose 1905, a gift from the current monarch of Yi Meng Independent State, her name engraved on the grip. She expertly loaded the pistol, as if preparing to fire at the target. Min Man quickly stopped her.
“Easy, easy! No guns allowed inside the Court.”
“I’m well aware of the regulations.” Zhu Yiqiao’s eyes darkened. “I’m just wondering, why would you assume I’d be interested in a bookworm?”
The three had met during their military service, becoming comrades, teammates, and friends. Zhu Yiqiao was the youngest, followed by Lan Lubai, with Min Man being the oldest. The reason they called the youngest “boss” was twofold: firstly, because of Zhu Yiqiao’s exceptional abilities, and secondly, because she had saved both their lives during a special mission.
Realizing her mistake, Lan Lubai quickly backtracked. “Alright, alright, you’re not interested in her.”
“Yiqiao, I understand you’re annoyed with Ming Fei. This whole thing is quite a coincidence, after all.”
Lan Lubai, who had the lowest academic scores among the three, added, “But she’s not exactly a bookworm, is she? Zaozao said she can do anything, she’s practically superhuman.”
Zhu Yiqiao seemed to chuckle. “Is that so?”
The pistol left her hand. She offered another assessment: “An incompetent bookworm.”
The rain had stopped, and the moon hung high in the night sky.
At 9:10 pm, the community activities at Huifu Gardens concluded, and quiet descended upon the complex.
Inside apartment B2 on the eighteenth floor, Ming Zaozao, clutching a teddy bear almost as big as herself, circled her mother repeatedly. After the fifth round, she set the bear down and climbed into Ming Fei’s lap.
“Mama, what’s wrong?”
“Hmm?”
Ming Zaozao tilted her head. “Baby was spinning, and Mama didn’t even see.”
Realizing she was lost in thought again, Ming Fei apologized, “Sorry, Zaozao. Mama’s very tired today, and my mind keeps wandering.”
“Mama’s tired, needs to sleep early.”
Looking at her daughter’s rosy cheeks, Ming Fei’s heart softened as she recalled the file she’d received that afternoon. The detailed information, sent from a private Court account, clearly explained how the genetic samples had been mixed up. It even included DNA evidence confirming the mother-daughter relationship between Ming Zaozao and Zhu Yiqiao.
Even though Ming Fei struggled to accept it, the facts shattered her last vestiges of hope.
The little one in her arms was as soft as a marshmallow. Ming Fei gently stroked her hair and softly suggested, “Tomorrow, Mama will move into Zaozao’s room and sleep with you, okay?”
Ming Zaozao readily agreed. “Okay! Baby wants that!”
“Then, is Zaozao willing to let that auntie with the blue eyes live with us?”
Ming Fei expected Ming Zaozao to need a moment to recall who Zhu Yiqiao was, but she remembered almost instantly.
“Pretty Auntie is coming to Baby’s house?” she asked. “Baby remembers her!”
Ming Zaozao’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “Baby remembers! That’s the auntie who let Baby go see Mama. Auntie even showed Baby cartoons, and Baby told her that Baby will give her a present next time.”
Ming Fei hadn’t known any of this.
After returning from the Court, she’d practically collapsed into bed, sleeping until evening before getting up to take some medicine. During dinner, Ming Zaozao was happily playing with 008 and Quanquan. Ming Fei hadn’t wanted to interrupt them, so she didn’t have a chance to ask about these things.
“She let you come see Mama?”
“Mm-hmm!” Ming Zaozao nodded. “Because the other aunties said Pretty Auntie is the boss, and only the boss could let Baby go see Mama.”
Ming Fei was surprised but didn’t probe further.
She kissed Ming Zaozao’s cheek. “Thank you, brave Zaozao, for coming to find Mama.”
“You’re welcome!” Ming Zaozao beamed, shaking her head. “Is Pretty Auntie really coming?”
“Yes, probably for a while.”
“Baby’s happy!”
“Good. Let’s make a pinky promise. When that auntie comes, Baby has to be obedient and not bother her, okay?”
At two years and two months old, Ming Zaozao didn’t quite grasp the concept of a pinky promise. She extended her thumb and pressed it against Ming Fei’s, like stamping a seal.
“Baby will be good~”
“Then will Zaozao help Mama tidy the room tomorrow? That auntie will be moving in the day after tomorrow.”
Ming Zaozao held up her tiny hand and began counting, “Today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, the day after the day after tomorrow…”
Realizing how soon “the day after tomorrow” was, she immediately wriggled out of Ming Fei’s lap, grabbed her toy shovel, put on the little round hat Ming Fei had made for her, and declared with utmost seriousness, “Mama, not tomorrow.”
“Now!” Ming Zaozao insisted. “Sweep the floor now!”
Ming Fei couldn’t refuse her daughter, and besides, she agreed. So she put on a matching hat and started tidying up the master bedroom.
The four-bedroom, two-bathroom Huifu Gardens apartment spanned 2,034 square feet. Besides the two en-suite master bedrooms, Ming Fei had converted the other two rooms into a study and a playroom. One of the living rooms had been turned into a guest room for Aunt Wang to rest during the day or for Li Xing to stay over occasionally.
She couldn’t possibly have Zhu Yiqiao stay in the guest room.
Therefore, she had to tidy up her own master bedroom and temporarily move in with Ming Zaozao. She also had to clean up her study, as per Zhu Yiqiao’s request, for the Chief Justice’s use.
With a lot to do and limited time, Ming Fei dedicated all her free time over the next two days to this task.
Friday arrived before she knew it.
The Independent State’s four-day workweek and three-day weekend applied partially to government employees and students, meaning three days off on odd-numbered weeks and two days off on even-numbered weeks. Friday on this particular week was a regular workday and school day.
The Q University system had rescheduled Ming Fei’s classes from Friday afternoon to Friday morning.
During Ming Fei’s two days of detention, the university only knew she was on sick leave and nothing more. So, when Ming Fei arrived for her morning class, she was met with an outpouring of concern from her students.
Ming Fei was surprised. Her teaching style mirrored her personality—reserved and perhaps a bit dry. She had never ranked high in the student-voted “most popular teacher” polls.
So she’d never expected her students to notice her absence due to illness.
Throughout the class, the students listened attentively. Afterward, a few of the more outgoing students approached her, inquiring about her health.
Ming Fei’s eyes softened with a smile. “Thank you for your concern. I’m feeling much better now. I’ll see you all in class on Monday.”
Reassured, the students smiled and said their goodbyes.
Before leaving, Ming Fei handed out three bags of the chocolates she’d planned to bring home for Ming Zaozao to her students.
Ming Fei didn’t go to the lab today. Everything was running smoothly there, and there wasn’t anything urgent requiring her attention. Besides, this afternoon… the Chief Justice was coming, and she still had preparations to make at home.
After leaving the university, Ming Fei went downtown, shopping according to her pre-made list. Loaded with four large bags, she took the elevator down to the parking garage.
Traffic was heavy, and it was already noon by the time she arrived home.
As soon as she entered, Ming Zaozao latched onto her leg, chattering away as they walked inside. Aunt Wang had already prepared lunch, but Ming Fei didn’t ask her to stay. She knew Aunt Wang had to catch the early afternoon maglev train back to her hometown.
After lunch, Ming Zaozao obediently went to her room for a nap. Ming Fei continued to meticulously check her own room, ensuring everything was perfect for Zhu Yiqiao’s arrival.
At 3:00 pm, a steady autumn rain fell over Xi He City.
By 4:30 pm, the rain had intensified, forming small puddles on the roads within the complex.
Ming Fei had no way of knowing when Zhu Yiqiao would arrive. She didn’t have her contact information, so she could only wait patiently, filled with a mix of anxiety about the unknown and apprehension towards the Chief Justice herself.
At 5:00 pm, the smart security door remained closed. Ming Fei put on an apron and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. An hour later, she washed her hands and emerged from the kitchen. Ming Zaozao was on the sofa, watching her favorite cartoon.
At 6:30 pm, the rain began to subside, a mist settling over the distant lake.
At 6:50 pm, as Ming Fei checked the time for the third time, tidying up the toys on the table and preparing to water the plants on the balcony, the doorbell, silent all day, suddenly rang.
Ming Fei froze.
The anxiety that had finally receded now rushed back like a rising tide.
She walked to the entrance. Instead of checking the smart monitor as usual, she directly unlocked the door.
As the door slowly slid open, Ming Fei’s apprehension didn’t lessen. A gust of cold autumn air swept in, and she found herself once again gazing into those indifferent eyes.
Black hair, blue eyes.
It was—Zhu Yiqiao, whom she had seen on the university’s public screen that morning and whom she’d been waiting for all afternoon.
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