Wei Yanlan exploded when Yang Xiaoyang called her. By the time she saw the photo posted on the forum—someone claiming to be Ji Xiaoli’s sponsor—she floored the accelerator and raced straight for the university.
“Slandering my daughter is one thing,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “But to pick such an ugly man as evidence—how dare they!”
Vanity aside, the insult stung. She stormed onto the sports field, pushing through the crowd until she could see the center of the commotion. Then she barked, voice cutting across the morning air: “Who started this rumor? Who’s been smearing my daughter?”
The students watching scattered at the shout. In the middle of the ring stood Tao Tao and Yang Xiaoyang; opposite them were two girls about their age. Wei recognized one at once—Qin Xiangxiang, Ji Xiaoli’s roommate.
“You… you came to defend Xiaoli?” Wei asked Qin, striding towards her with relief on her face. She had assumed only Tao Tao and Yang Xiaoyang were on Xiaoli’s side.
“Auntie…” someone began, and Wei halted at the address. Yang Xiaoyang, flustered, reached out and grabbed Wei’s arm. “She’s the one who started it,” he said awkwardly. “Qin Xiangxiang—she’s the gossip.”
Wei froze. Her gaze fell on Qin and hardened like concrete. “You live in the same dorm as Xiaoli,” she snapped. “You’re supposed to help each other, not stab her in the back! How could you slander a girl your own age, say she’s being sponsored, say she’s a surrogate—don’t you have a conscience? Do you think I’m dead, that I won’t defend my girl?”
Her volume and fury silenced the crowd. Faces turned toward Qin, whose shoulders hunched. She hadn’t expected Wei to show up.
Qin tried to shrink back, wary, but Zhou Ruonuo grabbed her sleeve. “What are you afraid of?” Zhou said hotly. “We didn’t say anything wrong.”
She stepped forward and squared off with Wei. “I know who you are. You’re the wife of the old man who’s been keeping Xiaoli as a surrogate—the one who drove a Maybach to take her home that day.”
“You—” Wei snapped, the insult like a punch. “I’m her mother!”
“Prove it!” Zhou scoffed. “Where’s your evidence?”
The taunt prompted murmurs. Students craned their necks. “Yeah—evidence?” they echoed.
Wei’s hands trembled with fury. Then, as if struck by an idea, she fumbled for her phone. Tao Tao seemed to understand immediately; she pulled out her own phone at the same time. But before either could act, a headline flashed across someone’s screen—a celebrity news alert.
Tao Tao sucked in a breath and her hand went slightly shaky. “Yang Xiaoyang, look…”
Yang came up beside her and peered. His face went slack with surprise.
Wei, meanwhile, had opened an online encyclopedia entry and turned it toward the crowd. “Look!” she declared, voice ringing with vindication. “I am Wei Yanlan. My husband is Ji Changmin—Ji Corporation’s CEO.”
She tapped her phone again and, with the other hand, pulled out her ID as if to punctuate the truth. People gathered closer, eyes wide. No one had expected to be tangling with someone so powerful. No one had guessed that Ji Xiaoli might be connected to the Ji family.
Qin Xiangxiang and Zhou Ruonuo went pale. They had no idea Wei was who she claimed. Zhou’s face flooded with disbelief and rage—if not for Qin, she would never have dragged this girl into public shame.
Qin couldn’t meet Zhou’s gaze. Her mouth worked, then she forced a spiteful reply. “So what? I heard the Ji couple never had children. Maybe—”
“Maybe what?” Wei snapped, as if she wanted to tear the words out of her. How could someone so young be so cruel?
Wei drew in a long breath, tamping down a tremor of emotion. “We didn’t have children because we lost one,” she said, quieter now, the anger turning to a hollow ache. “We lost our daughter years ago. We chose not to have more because we didn’t want another child to make us forget the one we lost.”
The sports field fell into a stunned silence. Even the whispering students stopped. Ji Xiaoli and Zheng Nanfeng, walking toward the center of the field, paused as the words reached them. Ji Xiaoli turned, trying to find Wei through the heads of the crowd.
“And Ji Xiaoli,” Wei continued, voice cracking, “is the daughter we lost.”
Something sharp and hot pricked at Ji Xiaoli’s eyes. The last few days had been a blur; the confession opened an unexpected well of feeling. Wei’s words—simple and raw—cut through to something that had been buried.
“We thought we’d never find her,” Wei said, choking on the sentence. “If we never did… she would still have been our only daughter. The one we missed for the rest of our lives.”
By the time she finished, Ji Xiaoli’s eyes were rimmed in red. Around them, several onlookers wiped their own eyes. The crowd that had come for gossip was suddenly moved. People who’d been ready to mock now felt awkward and ashamed.
But Qin’s face turned even harder. She wouldn’t be shamed so easily. “How do we know you’re telling the truth?” she spat. “How do we know Xiaoli hasn’t been living off other people’s money? Your words don’t prove anything.”
“Then what do you want?” Wei demanded, trembling with fury. She grabbed Qin’s wrist. “Fine—let’s do a DNA test right now if you don’t believe me.”
“No, Auntie, that’s not necessary,” Tao Tao cut in, stepping between them. “I have evidence.”
Tao Tao’s expression shifted; she looked at Qin with a newfound coolness. “Qin Xiangxiang, you accused Xiaoli of two things earlier—you said she was being sponsored and that her expensive spending didn’t add up. I can prove otherwise.”
With a few taps, she brought up a news article and let the screen turn to face the group. “This is a profile from Voice of Huayin today—an interview with Ji Changmin’s daughter, Ji Xiaoli. It says she writes and recently won a 60-million-yuan prize.”
She scrolled to the photo. “And here’s her picture,” Tao added, arching an eyebrow. “If you think this outlet is lying, you can go down there and make a scene. Tell them to print a retraction.”
The crowd leaned in. The article and the image matched the girl standing amid them—clear evidence, in the kind of proof the modern world trusts. For all their earlier bravado, Qin and Zhou found themselves shrinking under the weight of the new facts, the hubbub of the crowd now operating in a different key: from accusation to apology, from gossip to stunned respect.