Rebirth: Looking Back in a Sudden Realization - Chapter 8

This time moving wasn’t the same as emigrating. Back then, since the distance was too far and many things couldn’t be taken along anyway, they had left a lot behind. But now with domestic flights becoming increasingly convenient, they actually had to bring more. So after some discussion, mother and daughter decided it would be easier to first move into a hotel, then slowly settle on a permanent residence.

Uncle Wu and Aunt Rong were both getting old, and being long-time residents of Shangcheng, it felt inappropriate to ask two elders past their fifties to follow them to a new city. But since they would often return to the Shao residence, the two were asked to continue watching over the house and keep it clean, with their salary unchanged.

At the end of September, Shao Chuyan herself picked up the phone to call Zhao Longhua, telling him that she and her mother would be moving to Jincheng. After all, once she entered Qiu Shi Academy the Zhao family would know anyway, so she might as well take the initiative from the start, avoiding needless suspicion.

After a brief silence, Zhao Longhua’s first reaction was to fuss over the move—suggesting they live in his seaside villa, saying he would personally come pick them up. His excitement, though restrained, still made Chuyan feel overwhelmed, and she had to decline again and again—her mother would never accept that.

Considering the amount of luggage, it was hard to refuse any help, so Chuyan finally persuaded her mother to reluctantly accept his offer to send people for the moving. The final compromise: Zhao Longhua could arrange movers, but he himself wouldn’t come, and Shao Yiner insisted on paying the workers.

The next day, Zhao Longhua’s driver arrived in an ordinary Mercedes sedan, followed by a small truck. The workers who came along were clearly from a professional moving company—whatever Chuyan said she wanted to bring, they could carefully pack into proper boxes and secure. Yiner’s favorite framed paintings, the handmade carpet Chuyan was used to, Yiner’s treasured little trinkets, plus all those luxury clothes, bags, and shoes. By the time the workers had everything boxed up and loaded, the entire truck was full, and mother and daughter exchanged embarrassed looks.

Standing at the Shao residence’s gate in a refined violet qipao, Yiner gave a few last instructions to Aunt Rong. Chuyan leaned against the car, waiting. Today she wore a simple white cotton dress, trimmed at the hem with a circle of pale pink hand-stitched lace. Her body was tall and slender, already beginning to develop, her long curls falling loosely over her shoulders. With baby-fat cheeks, arched brows, and round, bright black eyes set slightly upward, her face was lively and animated, though still childish.

Amid Aunt Rong’s reluctant goodbyes, Yiner finally boarded the car with her daughter. Before closing the door, she smiled at Aunt Rong and said, “We’re leaving now, don’t see us off. Chuyan, say goodbye.”

Chuyan poked her little head out of the car window, grinning like a flower and waving vigorously. “Goodbye, Aunt Rong!”

Aunt Rong wiped at her tears, standing there until the car disappeared around the alley corner.

The sedan and truck were granted direct access to the airport’s VIP passage. When they stepped out, Chuyan walked beside her mother, with the driver carrying their hand luggage behind them. But parked before them wasn’t a large China Southern or Air China plane—it was a Boeing BBJ business jet, the tail marked with a light blue seal-script “Zhao.” This logo appeared on many new companies’ emblems nationwide, signifying they belonged to the Zhao family’s Zhong’ao Group, which was steadily climbing in the rankings of China’s private enterprises.

It was Chuyan’s first time on a private jet, and she couldn’t help but look around curiously.

A tall, sweet-smiling flight attendant was already waiting by the entrance. She bent politely and greeted, “Good morning, Mrs. Zhao, Miss Zhao.”

Yiner frowned in displeasure, correcting each word sharply: “It’s Ms. Shao and Miss Shao.”

The attendant flushed in embarrassment and quickly amended, “I’m so sorry—Ms. Shao and Miss Shao, please come aboard.”

Yiner’s good mood was spoiled entirely, and she sat down sullenly on the leather sofa.

Chuyan, however, didn’t take it to heart. She even asked cheerfully, “Is this plane my dad’s?”

The flight attendant’s smile blossomed, though her eyes betrayed a trace of envy. “Yes, this is Mr. Zhao’s private plane. He sent it today especially to bring you from Shangcheng.”

Chuyan was fascinated by the luxurious seating and décor. Hearing this, she only nodded and began wandering around the cabin. The attendant followed her, offering, “Miss Shao, would you like me to give you a tour?”

Under the attendant’s guidance, Chuyan discovered the plane could seat nineteen. It wasn’t only furnished with all sorts of comfortable fixtures—it even had a master bedroom with a big bed, private bathroom, and shower. Seven smaller guest rooms had sofas that could unfold into beds.

The luxury and fine craftsmanship made it feel more like a grand hotel suite than the inside of an airplane. Everywhere there were handmade wooden details.

After her little tour, Chuyan sat down in a single sofa chair and asked, “A plane like this must be expensive, right?”

The attendant smiled, handing both her and Yiner a glass of orange juice. “It costs nine figures.”

Chuyan stuck out her tongue.

The flight from Shangcheng to Jincheng took barely two hours. Onboard, a chef prepared them steak for lunch. Just as they finished, the plane was already descending into Jincheng International Airport.

Walking down the steps, the hot, dry climate made Chuyan uncomfortable until they got outside the terminal, where Zhao Longhua’s Bentley was waiting.

Yiner had already booked a four-bedroom serviced suite at the Four Seasons Hotel. The driver drove them straight there. Their luggage from the plane had been brought over ahead of time in another truck and delivered to the suite.

When mother and daughter finally arrived, they directed the hotel staff to arrange everything. By the time the four rooms were set up as two master bedrooms, one guest room, and one walk-in closet, it was already six in the evening. Hungry and tired, they ordered room service for a simple meal before going to bed early.

The next morning, around six, the doorbell rang insistently. Wrapped in a chiffon robe, Yiner climbed out of bed, hair quickly pinned up, yawning as she walked to the door. Peeking through the peephole, her sleepy face instantly lit with delight as she hurried to open it.

Standing outside was a tall, thin boy, looking shy as he smiled nervously at her.

“Xiaoyuan! How did you come? Come in quickly—have you had breakfast yet? Don’t you have school today?”

Her excited string of questions left Zhao Zhongyuan a little dazed. He stepped into the suite, scratched his head, and answered softly, “It’s the weekend, Mom.”

Awakened by her mother’s voice, Chuyan stumbled out in her nightgown, rubbing her eyes. “Who’s here?”

The boy was about ten, already a bit taller than his peers but still slight and unformed. His face, however, was striking—so much like Yiner’s, with bright, gleaming eyes and delicate features. For a boy, he was almost too pretty.

When he saw Chuyan, his face broke into a radiant smile, warmer than the blazing sun outside.

Chuyan’s heart trembled. It really was Xiaoyuan—her long-lost little brother. No longer the cold, distant figure from her nightmares, but a bright boy standing right before her. She rushed to embrace him, her eyes stinging with tears she forced back.

The boy let her hug him, bashful yet instinctively trusting, as if half a lifetime apart had never existed—was this the power of bl00d ties?

Zhongyuan’s eyes curved into crescents as he grinned. When Chuyan finally let go, he held her hand tightly. “Sister, you’re really not leaving anymore!”

Chuyan cupped his soft cheeks with both hands. “That’s right, brat. Not only am I not leaving, I came to Jincheng to stay with you. Happy?”

He nodded like a pecking chick, glancing between sister and mother. “Happy! Super happy! Dad only told me yesterday, I couldn’t sleep all night, so I came first thing this morning!”

Yiner stroked her son’s short, fine black hair with tender affection. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you? Sit down, I’ll make you a sandwich.”

Zhongyuan obediently sat in the living room, flipping through a magazine on the table while waiting.

Graceful and capable, Yiner had always been the perfect lady of the house—equally adept in the drawing room and the kitchen. Even a simple bacon sandwich she made into art. Three slices of toast baked crisp outside and soft within, layered with bacon and a soft-boiled egg, butter, and two leaves of lettuce. Cut neatly on the diagonal, garnished with broccoli and cherry tomatoes, finished with drizzled condensed milk lines for presentation—it looked beautiful and tasted even better. She quickly poured hot milk for the children and set it all on the table.

“Chuyan, Xiaoyuan, come eat.”

The two children, still with traces of innocence, rushed to the table and devoured their breakfast hungrily. They were so ravenous they nearly gulped it down. Yiner laughed, handing them milk. “Careful, don’t choke—eat slowly!”

She didn’t notice the sparkle in both children’s eyes.