Chapter 19: I Understand, but I Cannot Do It

As Yu Hui rattled on with a long string of nonsense, Huang Miomiao rolled her eyes. "This is a photo taken by someone else; what are you blathering about?"

Yu Hui hummed twice. "What do you know?"

Yu Hui truly believed he was being clever. From his perspective, what was the best way to suck up to Xu Shujian? It was simply to play the peacemaker. To put it bluntly, all it would take was for President Song to realize how talented her husband was. If they both focused on their careers, wouldn't they be an unstoppable power couple?

Xu Shujian didn't listen to Yu Hui’s drivel. In his eyes, Yu Hui and Zhang Qidong were much the same—neither was particularly reliable. Did Yu Hui love Huang Miomiao? The answer Xu saw was no. Even now, claiming to have realized his mistakes, he still hadn't shown Huang Miomiao any real respect. If he had truly realized his errors, he would have started by changing how he treated her.

A man who didn't love his partner but stayed with her for seven or eight years only proved that he loved himself above all else. Huang Miomiao had little impact on his life, so he could settle for the arrangement. In other words, he was a pragmatic scoundrel. If one had to make a comparison, a genuine scoundrel was, at the very least, slightly better than a hypocrite.

"The origin of this photo was indeed the child," Xu Shujian explained, looking at the image. "Several years ago, I desperately wanted a baby. We couldn't reach a consensus, and after several arguments, we fell into a long, cold silence, drifting further and further apart. The photographer asked us: if it were this very moment, could we reach a consensus on that issue? Clearly, we still haven't."

Zhang Qidong looked enlightened. "So, the photographer asked if you two wanted a child now, and you both chose 'no'?"

Xu Shujian nodded.

Zhang Qidong continued, "Shujian, I have to say a few words to you. Men and women are different. Xiaoxian and I have children because I’m out working, and she can stay home comfortably to raise them. I acknowledge her contribution to the family. But your situation is different. President Song is the one leading the career; a ten-month pregnancy would have a massive impact on her. You should be more understanding. As Yu Hui said, you’re both still young. There’s plenty of room for negotiation—you could wait until your careers reach a certain point, set a goal like age thirty-five. There’s plenty of time."

Xu Shujian looked at Zhang Qidong and nodded. "You’re right."

"You’re still a bit... huh?" Zhang Qidong stopped mid-sentence, puzzled. *What? I’m right? That’s it? No pushback at all?* He frowned. "You really think I’m right?"

Xu Shujian’s expression was sincere. "I really do think you’re right."

Zhang Qidong asked, "Then why do you have problems? Take this photo, for instance—aren't you still failing to understand President Song?"

Xu Shujian sighed. "I understand, I just can't do it."

He carefully recalled the conflicts between his predecessor and Song Yue. This issue was merely the trigger; many things had happened afterward. His predecessor had tried to apologize and smooth things over, but they could never recapture the feeling they once had. Song Yue was the same; they both felt they should just make it work, maintaining a surface-level understanding.

Later on, when Song Yue saw his predecessor tinkering with music every day, lost in his own world, she had even arranged for a former industry acquaintance to act as his manager to help him return to his career. At the time, the original Xu Shujian might not have noticed anything, but looking back now, the current Xu Shujian realized there was another meaning behind it.

Thinking of this, he glanced at Song Yue. Her gaze was still fixed on the LCD screen, her expression complex. She had actually taken some of Yu Hui’s nonsense to heart.

This was because the impression Xu Shujian gave her now was different. In the past, Song Yue felt she knew him well enough; she saw him as someone forced out of the entertainment industry by stalled career prospects. Her reaction back then had been: if this place doesn't want you, there are plenty of others; it’s not like I can’t afford to support you.

But as time passed and Song Yue took over the family business, her understanding of everything deepened. For a long time, she had viewed Xu Shujian as being unreasonable. She felt that after losing his job, he had poured all his focus onto her, and he demanded the same in return. How was that possible? At first, she had tried to coax him, but everyone has a breaking point.

For a long time, she had hoped he would go out and find his own space, but he had just hunkered down at home, spending large sums of money researching various instruments and building a private recording studio that ranked among the best in the country. Song Yue had crunched the numbers—he had burned through almost all his own savings. Back then, he had been stubborn, refusing to touch the bank card she had offered him. The critical thing was that after spending all that time and money, he wouldn't make a comeback, yet he still acted as if he were incredibly talented.

Wasn't that just building a pedestal for himself? He needed to admit he was out of touch with the industry. If he couldn't write anything good, he should have gone back to the stage performance he was once skilled at and started over. Song Yue had tried to talk to him several times, but they always ended in discord. She had indeed made some extreme decisions, such as introducing that beautiful manager friend.

But those perceptions were now being shattered. It seemed that "Old Xu" had finally written some good work—like that recent song, which was a stark contrast to the version of him she had known. So, hearing Yu Hui's words, she didn't think it was entirely nonsense anymore. But since he had found his way in another direction, why was he still keeping quiet? Why not come out of seclusion? Song Yue couldn't figure it out.

From her understanding of the music scene, it was currently in a slump. The vapid tunes that were popular were mere surface-level trends, limited to small circles—it was only because China’s population was so vast that those small circles represented many people. Because of the rise of platforms like Douyin, some older songs were actually being rediscovered and becoming popular again. For instance, in current music variety shows, the feedback from singing trendy songs was far less impactful than singing classic hits. From another angle, this meant that the fundamental aesthetic of the Chinese audience still leaned toward works with classic melodies and excellent lyrics.

If Old Xu was capable of making a living this way, why wasn't he doing it? Could it really be, as Yu Hui suggested, that he was so capable that he had chosen to compromise and turn his heart toward his family?

"That’s not understanding; true understanding is never impossible to act upon. Trust me on this," Zhang Qidong said earnestly. "I believe President Song isn't against having children; she just needs to manage her space and time. In this, I think you’re a bit like Xiaoxian. She’s always upset that I don't come home, but I need my own space and time, too. It’s not that I don't want to come home—what man doesn't want to share the joy of family life with his wife and children? I have to fulfill my responsibilities to the company first, and ensure the family’s future security before I can truly return to that life."