Chapter 18: Going to Watch Mother Sing

In this bustling international metropolis known as the Magic City, the area outside the Oriental TV Station was particularly lively at this moment. Due to the leaked recording schedule of "I Am a Singer," numerous music fans and media reporters had gathered, blocking the entrance.

Qin Haiyu was the last singer yet to arrive. She had barely made it on time for the previous show’s recording. In the studio backstage, Director Zhang Qian frowned once more. “Qin Haiyu still hasn’t arrived? So again, she’s not putting on makeup or rehearsing today?”

A staff member quickly replied, “Her assistant brought the sheet music a couple of days ago and said it’s fine as long as the band rehearses. I’ve just urged them again—they’re already on their way.”

Zhang Qian shook his head. “I really don’t get it. If she’s this busy and doesn’t have time, why bother paying to be on our show?”

The staff member gave a wry smile. “Her husband explained on Weibo. Apparently, it was her husband who wanted her to participate, not her own idea.”

“Yes, I saw that Weibo post too.” Director Zhang Qian nodded. He had originally thought Qin Haiyu was staging a comeback, which was why she approached the production team and paid for the challenger singer spot. But it turned out she wasn’t the one eager to join; it was her husband who wanted her to relax and experience the long-lost thrill of performing on stage.

What astounded him most was the Weibo post claiming that the reason Qin Haiyu performed poorly in the last challenge was that she just wanted to muddle through two rounds, fail, and go home to take care of her child—so she deliberately sang off-key and forgot the lyrics?

He had been half skeptical. He believed it partly because, given Qin Haiyu’s former musical achievements, she shouldn’t have made such rookie mistakes. Yet, he doubted it because she hadn’t rehearsed, and after a year and a half out of the spotlight, it wouldn’t be surprising if her skills had slipped.

But if that Weibo post was to be trusted—that her previous poor performance was intentional, and this time she would sing earnestly, performing a song composed by her husband and named after his novel—he couldn’t help but feel both curious and expectant.

He wondered what the song, “Little Fortune,” would be like. The band’s rehearsal melody sounded promising, but whether the song would truly captivate the audience would depend on Qin Haiyu’s live performance.

There was still an hour to go before the recording started…

Meanwhile, not too far away in a villa community, Qin Haiyu stood at the door, holding the clothes she would wear on stage, reluctant to leave. “Honey, I’m heading out to record the show…”

Yu Zhile, cradling their curious baby in his arms, nodded. “Mm, sing well, don’t be nervous.”

Qin Haiyu kissed the baby’s chubby cheek. “Sweetheart, Mommy’s leaving now!”

Yu Zhile gently grabbed the baby’s right hand and waved it. “Say bye-bye to Mommy!”

At the roadside, Xu Ling sat in the car, exasperated. “Come on, please! They’re urging us again!”

“Coming!” Qin Haiyu called, looking back every few steps before getting into the car. She stuck her head out the window and complained, “Little rascal, you never cry when Mommy leaves! But as soon as Daddy steps out, you wail! Just as they say, daughters are always Daddy’s sweethearts from a past life!”

Xu Ling’s plump hand gripped the steering wheel as she stepped on the gas. “Everyone says daughters are Daddy’s little sweethearts, Daddy’s little cotton jackets, but I’ve never heard what daughters are to mothers?”

Qin Haiyu huffed. “Next time, I’ll have a boy! If daughters stick to their dads, sons stick to their moms!”

Xu Ling felt a pang of envy. As Qin Haiyu’s best friend, she realized that Qin Haiyu was already planning for a second child, while she herself hadn’t even started dating.

“That’s it! I must lose weight!” Xu Ling declared suddenly.

Qin Haiyu laughed. “How many years have you been saying that? Yet you’re rounder than ever!”

“You’re the round one!” Xu Ling rolled her eyes in mock annoyance.

As their car disappeared from view, Yu Zhile, holding his unexpectedly well-behaved baby, imitated Qin Haiyu’s tone and scolded, “You little mischief! Because of you, Daddy can’t go see Mommy perform!”

The little one gazed up at him with big watery eyes, babbling softly, her tiny tongue just peeking out, drool threatening to spill over again.

After a week of intensive training, Yu Zhile had become a competent stay-at-home dad. Now he could take care of the baby on his own—though it was exhausting. When the baby was quiet, it was manageable, but when she started crying, it was enough to drive anyone mad…

Looking at his docile child, Yu Zhile suddenly wondered if he could bring the baby along to watch his wife’s recording. But the loud sound system in the studio might frighten the baby and harm her hearing. Unless he asked Old Yang to babysit, and he could slip in just for a while.

Old Yang—full name Yang Bing—was Yu Zhile’s college classmate, now working at Oriental TV. It was thanks to him that Qin Haiyu got the challenger spot on “I Am a Singer”—Yu Zhile had consulted Yang Bing about the program and arranged the spot for her.

He’d only figured this out a few days ago, after some investigation. Otherwise, he’d have had no idea how, before he crossed over, his counterpart managed to get the show to invite Qin Haiyu.

After thinking it through, Yu Zhile messaged Yang Bing, asking if he could slip into the live audience for a bit. He only needed to watch Qin Haiyu’s performance for a few minutes to judge how she did.

In the past, Yang Bing would have found some excuse to refuse. Before Yu Zhile’s true identity as an author was public, Yang Bing had always thought of him as a kept man, and harbored a bit of jealousy. He’d never been particularly friendly toward Yu Zhile.

But now, he realized how wrong he—and everyone else—had been. Yu Zhile wasn’t a kept man at all. Before he even graduated, before Qin Haiyu won her talent show, he was already a multimillionaire!

So, Yang Bing agreed without hesitation. Having worked at Oriental TV for two years after graduating, he had already moved up to a planner position in the music channel. His name was on the credits for season nine of “I Am a Singer,” so getting Yu Zhile into the studio for a few minutes was no issue, as long as he didn’t disrupt the taping.

“Yang Bing says the show starts at noon, and if all goes smoothly, it should be done by two-thirty. Since my wife is the challenger, she’ll be on last, probably around two. I’ll just leave the house at one—perfect timing!”

So, an hour and a half later, Yu Zhile tidied up his somewhat scruffy dad look, dressed the baby with socks and a sunhat, placed her comfortably in a stroller with a sunshade, and set out.

Like a child himself, he cheered, “Let’s go! Time to watch Mommy sing!”