A person as refined and sophisticated as you—how could you possibly play a scum like that?

Peach Baby's eyes widened at those words, and then she pouted. "Shen Xian, someone as refined as you... how could you possibly play a scoundrel?"

Whether it was the father in the theatrical piece or her own father in real life, they were all scoundrels.

In Peach Baby's heart, Shen Xian was as exquisite as porcelain, and he should only play heroic and handsome roles.

"Then what should I play?" Shen Xian asked.

Aunt Mo smoothly took over the conversation, "Your image is well-suited for a young scholar role; you should play Su Yue's husband, Li Zhaoting."

Shen Xian thought for a moment and said, "Then I will need to practice more. Operatic falsetto isn't just about pinching your voice; the vocalization and breath control require a great deal of technique."

Mo Wei nodded. "Then for your next step, write the script first, and then we'll start rehearsals."

Shen Xian nodded.

Nanzhou Garden.

Zhou Wan woke up very early and prepared breakfast for Qingqing.

Qingqing ate with a furrowed brow, unable to finish, and asked, "I want to eat what Daddy makes."

Zhou Wan's right hand, which was holding a spoon to eat porridge, paused for a moment, followed by a soft, lingering sigh.

Over this past month, Shen Xian had completely vanished from her sight, leaving no trace to be found.

Her heart felt empty and lost, yet his image in her mind became increasingly vivid.

Recalling the moments they had shared in the past, she realized that she had indeed failed Shen Xian.

During the time they spent together, Shen Xian had always given of himself without a single complaint or grievance, asking for nothing in return.

Even before knowing that Qingqing was his biological daughter, he had still treated Qingqing exceptionally well.

She thought once again of Qi Zhengqing and Meng Yanzhou—both men were exceptionally outstanding with illustrious family backgrounds.

Yet the primary motivation for either of them when approaching her was simply to sleep with her.

From this perspective, Shen Xian surpassed them by a wide margin.

Or rather, in her heart, Shen Xian was already the full-score answer.

With his own solitary strength, Shen Xian had made Zhou Wan feel that all other men fell drastically short.

Yet, a man who gave of himself so selflessly, who was entirely devoted to her, a man who had been willing to sacrifice his own pride just to beg for a reconciliation only to be rejected by her—she had lost him.

She knew Shen Xian was sensitive and possessed a strong sense of pride. When he sought her out for reconciliation that night, he must have used every ounce of his remaining strength, right?

"He came with sincerity and bravery; the one who should feel regret is not him."

"It is me."

A trace of sorrow flickered in Zhou Wan's apricot-shaped eyes.

Was there regret?

Profound regret.

If only she had known, she would have let him in that night to talk things through properly, to have a real conversation.

Was there remorse?

Deep remorse.

That night, Shen Xian had also intended to explain things to her, but she had refused to listen.

People with stubborn mouths usually lose many things.

She fit that description perfectly.

People with soft hearts usually end up wronged themselves.

He fit that description perfectly.

As these thoughts cascaded through her mind, tears like broken strings dripped steadily down into her bowl.

She kept her head lowered, wiping them away in silence.

Suddenly, her phone rang. She stood up, pulled out a tissue, and frantically wiped her cheeks and nose.

"Grandfather's ninetieth birthday is right around the corner. Are you still not planning to come back?" A deep voice came from the other end of the line. "You haven't been back in three years. In the past, I didn't blame you for missing his birthday, but this time is different. This is his ninetieth."

Zhou Wan gave a choked acknowledgement and said, "I'll come back."

The person on the other end fell silent for a moment. "Were you crying?"

"No." Zhou Wan suppressed the sob in her voice.

"Bring the child back with you as well. I'll be stepping down to the second line soon, and by then I can help you look after the child," her father said.

Zhou Wan asked, "But according to the news from two days ago, you were just elected as the Chairman of the National Federation of Literary and Art Circles, promoted to ministerial rank."

"My age has caught up with me; this term will be my last," her father said. "I won't say much else, but your grandfather has been mentioning you constantly."

Zhou Wan murmured an assent. "I know. I'll bring Qingqing back with me."

After hanging up the phone, Zhou Xingjian sat in his office, slowly exhaled a ring of smoke, and furrowed his brows deeply.

He was not only the Chairman of the National Federation of Literary and Art Circles, but also a member of the 18th, 19th, and 20th Cabinet Committees. At the same time, he was a renowned author, a recipient of the Lu Xun Literary Award, a nominee for the previous Nobel Prize in Literature, and had served as the President of the Huaxia Poetry Association and the Drama Association.

His pen name was a household name throughout the country: Xue Shuai!

The National Drama Association, Film Association, Poetry Association, and various other bodies all fell under the jurisdiction of the National Federation of Literary and Art Circles.

And the National Federation of Literary and Art Circles reported directly to the central government in Ningzheng.

As for Zhou Wan's mother, she was a government official in the Ministry of Education—the sheer weight and influence of that department went without saying.

And what about her father, Zhou Yangshi?

He had served as a professor at the Haicheng Academy of Theatre before entering work at the Federation of Literary and Art Circles, dedicating his entire life to the development of traditional opera, and eventually retiring from the Ministry of Culture.

The Zhou family could truly be called a scholarly and prestigious lineage of letters.

Therefore, when Zhou Wan first debuted through live-streaming, although the family had held differing opinions, they had not overwhelmingly opposed it.

Literature and art—culture and art were fundamentally inseparable.

Even now, quite a few members of the Zhou family remained dedicated to the research and promotion of Peking Opera, Yue Opera, Kunqu, Huangmei Opera, and Henan Opera.

After hanging up, Zhou Wan dialed Ning Cai's number. "Caicai, I'm heading back to Kyoto next week. Are you going back too?"

"Your grandfather's birthday, right?" Ning Cai clearly had received the news long ago. "I'll be going back as well."

Old Master Zhou's birthday was nothing like Old Madam Lin's birthday.

Although Zhou Yangshi repeatedly requested a low-profile and simple gathering, a great many people would still attend.

There was no helping it; Zhou Xingjian, the son, had been promoted this time and now held the ultimate power of life and death over the entire industry. No matter how arrogant the four major entertainment giants might act, a single document from the Federation of Literary and Art Circles would force them to undergo immediate rectification.

And the daughter-in-law was equally formidable—a heavy hitter in the Ministry of Education. Many major projects over the past few years had been tied to the Ministry of Education.

Whatever leaked casually through their fingers would be enough to feed quite a few people.

"Both your parents got promoted this time. Impressive," Ning Cai remarked.

Zhou Wan curled her lips in silence, offering no response.

Ning Cai then asked, "Still no news of Shen Xian?"

Zhou Wan sighed. "None."

"If you see him again, what will you do?" Ning Cai probed.

"If I see him again... I will hold him tightly," Zhou Wan murmured softly.

Ning Cai observed, "You really have changed. Love can truly transform a person; the old you would never have said such things."

Zhou Wan's tone grew hesitant as she cautiously tested the waters, "Caicai, I understand your feelings too. Regarding Shen Xian... what are your thoughts?"

Ning Cai paused. Usually calm and rational, at this moment she actually didn't know how to respond.

What were her thoughts?

Naturally, she was unwilling to give up.

"If Shen Xian makes it clear that there's no possibility between you two, then... I don't want to give up," Ning Cai recovered her composure and said.

Zhou Wan sighed. "Caicai, you must understand that no matter who Shen Xian ultimately chooses, the two of us won't even be able to remain friends."

How could Ning Cai fail to understand this logic?

Yet romance was a truly intoxicating thing.

"We'll deal with future matters in the future; live well in the present. At the very least, during this current stage, we are still good friends," Ning Cai said. "There's no point in borrowing trouble for things that haven't happened yet and exhausting yourself internally. It's meaningless."

Zhou Wan murmured an acknowledgement and then hung up the phone.

With only one day left before the Golden Bell Awards voting commenced, Shen Xian first sent two songs to Zhou Wan.

These two songs were meant for Liu Sheng, so Shen Xian had chosen two love songs.

When Zhou Wan received them, she felt another wave of admiration.

Although the Postman was a scoundrel with several girlfriends, his talent was undeniable.

Following that, he wrote two operatic-style songs for Peach Baby. They had already been recorded and were scheduled to be released right after midnight.

He had also recorded two songs of his own—one in Mandarin and one in Cantonese.

Not only Shen Xian, but every singer in the industry aiming for the Golden Bell Awards was waiting for the opening of the Yinyue Network platform.

Everything was prepared; they were simply waiting for the voting website to go live at twelve o'clock!

The moment for the eight immortals crossing the sea to show their individual divine powers was about to arrive!