A Real Heiress Quits (GL) - Chapter 1

June. The torrential rain fell heavily.

Inside the Yin residence, the lights were bright and the wine flowed as socialites gathered. Today was the birthday of the Yin family’s heiress. Following their custom, the family held a grand banquet of extreme luxury. The crystal chandeliers cast a ruby-like glow onto the swaying wine in the glasses.

“This carpet… is really flashy.”

No matter how many times Yan Ji came to the Yin house, she always made the same remark whenever she stepped into the living room and saw the massive expanse of gold-threaded wool carpet.

A woman holding a goblet overheard her and smiled. “Indeed. It costs a hundred thousand dollars per square meter.”

Yan Ji’s lip twitched. Here she comes. That woman is coming again.

Yin Jianghan swirled her wine glass. The massive diamond on her ring flashed, nearly blinding Yan Ji.

Yan Ji quickly took a few steps back to avoid being nauseated by the woman’s heavy perfume. “Miss Yin, where is Xinyue?”

Yin Jianghan’s elegant smile stiffened slightly. Glancing at the gift box in Yan Ji’s hand, she dodged the question. “Is that a gift for me? Thank you.” As she spoke, she reached out to take it.

Yan Ji quickly pulled the box behind her back. “Miss Yin, what are you thinking? Are we even that close?”

Her voice wasn’t particularly loud, but it was enough to make everyone nearby turn their heads.

Yin Jianghan’s face burned. Her hand froze in mid-air, unable to move forward or retreat. Yan Ji added “kindly,” “Don’t get too angry, Miss Yin. Look at how your face is twisting—the powder is practically falling off.”

Yin Jianghan gripped her wine glass so hard the veins on the back of her hand bulged. She was seething with hatred. But the person in front of her was the eldest daughter of the Tianhui Group; she couldn’t afford to offend her. Forcing a smile, she said, “Miss Yan truly loves to joke.”

Yan Ji had been friends with Yu Xinyue for over a decade and had zero positive impressions of the Yin family. If it weren’t for Yu Xinyue, she wouldn’t bother humoring these people.

In Yan Ji’s eyes, Yu Xinyue—the adopted daughter—was treated like a laborer or a tool. A few years ago, when the Yin family business faced bankruptcy, it was Xinyue who worked herself to the bone to save the collapsing enterprise. During that time, Yan Ji had been traveling abroad, and Xinyue, being the type to endure everything in silence, hadn’t breathed a word of it for months.

When Yan Ji finally found out and rushed back, she had burst into tears upon seeing Xinyue at the airport. Her best friend’s eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, and she was so haggard and thin a gust of wind could have blown her away.

After all that sacrifice, one would think she’d have earned some credit. But the way the Yins treated her… Yan Ji rolled her eyes internally. They treated her worse than a regular employee. At least an employee gets a salary. Xinyue had worked for them for decades for free, earning blood-and-sweat money while these vampires spent their days feasting and squandering it.

Yan Ji asked again, “Where is Xinyue?”

Yin Jianghan turned her head, her tone cold. “Who knows? Sister is always like this—she never fits in with the family. Last time it was Grandmother’s birthday, and while everyone came to offer blessings, she only sent some ginseng and didn’t even show her face. Is that any way to treat an elder?”

Yin Jianghan didn’t know Yan Ji well; she only knew her status and assumed Yan Ji would care about “saving face.”

Yan Ji sneered. “True. Who could ever ‘fit in’ with a bunch of passive-aggressive vampires?”

“You!” Yin Jianghan’s eyes widened. “What did you say?”

Yan Ji ignored her, swiping through her phone. “So you aren’t satisfied with ginseng? What did you want, a clock?* Interesting.”

(Translator’s Note: In Chinese culture, giving a clock/送鐘 is a homophone for “attending a funeral/送終” and is considered a curse.)

[Sister, where are you? Come rescue me!]

A WeChat message lit up the phone on the table. Yu Xinyue looked down at it but didn’t speak. The phone buzzed incessantly with more messages from her “rowdy sister” friend.

[What are you doing? Don’t play dead. I’m at your house, and I brought you something good today.]

[Xinyue? Yue’er? Little Yue-Yue?]

[I know you’re watching. Answer me!]

[Hmph!]

Yu Xinyue set the phone to silent and leaned back into the sofa.

Soft music flowed like water through the elegantly decorated bar. The place was called “Rain’s End,” a quiet lounge that had recently opened. Not many people knew about it, and its stylish, peaceful atmosphere made it a rare place where she could relax.

A waiter pushed a small cart past the booths. Yu Xinyue ordered another bottle of Ace of Spades. After a glass, a flush rose to her cheeks, and her eyes shimmered.

Her phone vibrated again—a call this time. Her eyes lit up for a second, then dimmed when she saw the caller ID: her secretary, Xiao Liu.

The call was about business. They were negotiating a major contract with the most powerful empire in the country: Guangyun. Secretary Liu’s voice was shaky with excitement—Chairman Qin of Guangyun had agreed to meet tomorrow at 3:00 PM.

Yu Xinyue gave a few instructions, realized she shouldn’t get too drunk, and set down her glass.

“Boss, Happy Birthday!” After the business talk, Xiao Liu offered a cheerful blessing.

Yu Xinyue paused. “Thank you,” she said softly. Her voice was slightly deep and fragrant, like fine wine.

“Gosh, Boss, don’t talk like that!” Xiao Liu gasped. “My heart is jumping out of my chest. I should have recorded that to use as my alarm clock!”

Yu Xinyue smiled and hung up. She stared at her phone. She scrolled through WeChat, her texts, and her call logs. Her face remained expressionless as she realized she had been sitting in the bar all day without receiving a single blessing from her family.

Her heart ached with a dull pain, but she was used to it.

She slowly typed out the address of the bar to Yan Ji. Yan Ji replied instantly: [Stay put. I’m coming right now.]

Yu Xinyue’s eyes reddened. Even if her family ignored her, there was still someone who cared.

The sound of a couple arguing nearby drifted over. Yu Xinyue shook her heavy head. Who comes to a bar to fight? She stood up and noticed that everyone’s face seemed clouded. Most people here were likely drinking to drown their sorrows.

In the center of the lounge stood a Steinway piano. The performer appeared to be a young music student. When the song ended, Yu Xinyue stepped forward. “May I play a piece?”

The student looked up, blushed, and stammered, “O-Of course. Please.”

Yu Xinyue placed her hands on the keys and closed her eyes.

Her slender, white fingers danced across the keyboard like a graceful ballerina. The music flowed out, weaving through the shadows. She played Una Mattina—a piece that was sad yet full of hope.

The student stood by with her mouth agape. The familiar song sounded entirely different under this woman’s touch. The notes felt like snowflakes, blanketing the world in white.

Suddenly, the student looked around. The arguing couple had stopped. The middle-aged man drowning his sorrows had put down his glass. Waiters, bartenders, and patrons alike had all stopped to listen. For a moment, they were no longer trapped in the noise of the world; their worries drifted away with the wind.

The spotlight seemed to gather on Yu Xinyue.

Her sleeves were rolled up, revealing porcelain-white wrists. Her side profile was as perfect as a sculpture of a Greek goddess.

The student finally understood what her teacher meant when she said music without “life” is just a collection of sounds. Una Mattina under the student’s hands was just sounds; under this woman’s hands, it was a living soul.

Music is a spring that sand cannot bury, a star the cold night cannot hide, a rainbow the storm cannot scatter. It is the moon that people toiling for “sixpence” see when they finally look up.

As the song ended, the bar remained silent. Yu Xinyue stroked the keys gently, as if touching the face of a lover. No matter how much despair she felt, playing the piano gave her the strength to keep moving forward.

“Thank you,” she whispered internally.

The student stood dazed until she met Yu Xinyue’s smiling eyes. When the woman’s eyes were closed, she looked like an innocent girl; when they were open, her phoenix-shaped eyes were shimmering and captivating.

“You can continue now,” Yu Xinyue said warmly.

“Y-Yes. You play beautifully,” the student managed to say.

A waiter approached and handed her a bouquet of lilies with a card attached. “From our boss.”

Yu Xinyue took the flowers. The card featured a quote by Keigo Higashino: “All coincidences in life are actually fated; they are destiny.” The background was a rainbow. On the back, a line was written in sharp, elegant handwriting: “Your eyes are raining, but your music is like sunlight.”

Yu Xinyue smiled. “Thank you.”

“The boss would like to invite you for a drink,” the waiter added.

Yu Xinyue shook her head, looking toward Yan Ji, who was leaning against the bar. “No, my friend has been waiting for a long time. Perhaps another day.”

Yan Ji scoffed as they met. “I thought I’d have to wait for you to finish another bottle.”

“I wouldn’t dare make you wait,” Xinyue said, her eyes bright. “I’ve had a bit much to drink. Take me home, A-Ji. Not to the Yin house—to my apartment.”

Yan Ji jingled her car keys. “As you wish.”

As they walked out, Xinyue’s legs felt weak from the alcohol, and she nearly stumbled. Yan Ji caught her. “Careful! You know you can’t hold your liquor, yet you drank this much!”

“I have you, don’t I?” Xinyue leaned against her.

Yan Ji grumbled about being a “gentleman of virtue” while helping her friend. “Don’t go seducing me now.”

“I’m only like this with you,” Xinyue murmured. “A-Ji is someone I can trust.”

As they drove, Yan Ji mentioned the gift she brought back from her travels in South America. “It’s a ‘Shaman’s Necklace.’ The person who sold it to me said it makes your heart’s desires come true.”

Xinyue laughed softly. “You believe that?”

“Of course not! But he said it attracts ‘peach blossoms’ (romance). I thought, ‘Hey, my Xinyue is missing exactly that,’ so I bought it. Happy Birthday, my Little Yue is another year older.”

Xinyue opened the box to find a necklace made of plant fibers with a black stone carved with eerie symbols. “This attracts romance? It’ll scare the suitors away.”

Yan Ji laughed and hit the gas. As they drove, Yan Ji began her usual rant about the Yin family and Yin Jianghan. “You’ve spent years earning money for them. You’ve paid back whatever they spent raising you tenfold. Why do you keep slaving away for them?”

Xinyue remained silent. “A-Ji, family isn’t something you calculate like that.”

“Forget that. You aren’t even their biological daughter,” Yan Ji countered.

After a long silence, Xinyue whispered, “What if… what if I am?”

The rain was so loud it drowned out her soft words. “What did you say?” Yan Ji asked.

Xinyue leaned back. “Nothing. They are… good to me.”

“Bullsh*t,” Yan Ji snapped. “Are you brainwashed?”

“Aunt was good to me,” Xinyue said quietly.

Yan Ji slammed the steering wheel. “She’s dead! Why can’t you let go?”

Xinyue turned her head, seeing her own numb reflection in the dark window. “Yes, she’s dead. But Ya-ya is gone too. All these years, have you let go?”

A mist covered Yan Ji’s eyes. She gripped the wheel tighter to stop her hands from shaking. “It’s different… I really, really failed her. Let’s not talk about it.”

They settled into a truce. Yan Ji turned on heavy metal music to fill the silence. Xinyue put in earplugs and closed her eyes to rest.

Nearly two hours into the drive, Xinyue’s phone buzzed. It was a missed call—no, thirty-six missed calls. From Yin Hongfei, her cold and critical uncle.

Just as she was debating whether to call back, the phone rang again. It vibrated like a hot potato in her hand. Part of her hoped for a birthday wish; part of her feared another demand on behalf of Yin Jianghan.

“Just answer it,” Yan Ji said, reaching over and hitting the button.

The signal was terrible due to the storm. Her uncle’s voice was frantic and broken. “Xinyue… where… listen… watch out!”

“WATCH OUT!”

The voice on the phone overlapped with reality. Xinyue looked up to see blinding headlights directly in front of them.

Yan Ji turned the wheel sharply. The SUV swerved like a swallow, narrowly missing a truck only to slam head-on into a tree by the roadside.

The last thing Xinyue saw was the truck’s license plate: 673. Then, a sharp pain struck her forehead, something warm flowed down, and her consciousness plummeted into darkness.

Is it over?

What a pity…

If I had known, I would have played the piano even longer at the bar.

Blood slowly filled the carvings on the shaman’s necklace. A faint light flickered in the darkness, trembled, and then vanished like a dying candle.