In February 1999.

　　Professor Li's team made significant progress. After three months of excavation at the ancient port site in Valencia and the ancient castle site in Zaragoza, Spain, they discovered Chinese export porcelain from the Tang Dynasty. Subsequently, a Sino-British joint archaeological team confirmed that the "Maritime Silk Road" for ceramics had reached Western Europe as early as the Tang Dynasty. This discovery pushed the starting point of the Sino-European ceramic trade back by 500 years. Undoubtedly, this was a highlight of their careers. Professor Li was so excited that he treated his students to a seafood feast and white wine.

　　Slightly tipsy, John and Liyan strolled through the City of Arts and Sciences in Valencia under the night sky. Love songs for Valentine’s Day floated in the air, their melodious and lingering lyrics mirroring John's nervousness. Seizing the perfect moment, John gathered his courage. “Liyan, I want to introduce you to my family.”

　　Liyan looked at him, a hint of hesitation in her eyes. Who brings someone insignificant home to meet their parents? John’s request made her realize her importance in his life, and she felt a surge of happiness. But soon, anxiety took hold. She worried that John’s mother might object to their relationship because of her nationality. Yet, she understood that “even the less attractive bride must meet her in-laws,” and with a mix of resolve and trepidation, she nodded.

　　They drove from Oxford's bustling High Street into the serene English countryside, winding down a narrow path that meandered through fields. The road was barely wide enough for one car, flanked by ancient trees whose branches arched over to block out the sky. The lack of pedestrians signaled private property, discreetly warning off unwanted visitors. After another mile, they arrived at a grand iron gate. Sunlight suddenly streamed through, revealing a breathtaking view ahead.

　　The portly security guard, Old Tom, tipped his hat to John at the entrance. As John drove slowly into the estate, he was greeted by perfectly manicured lawns. The gentle breeze made the lush green grass ripple like waves, a sight that was truly enchanting.

　　But John was too anxious to enjoy the view. He felt as though he were about to face a formidable challenge. His mother had always been critical of his past girlfriends, finding fault with their manners, their vanity, their modest backgrounds, or their lack of education. Now, he was bringing home a girl from China. When he had first told his mother about Liyan a month ago, she had dismissed the idea with little interest.

　　“Can you please be a bit more considerate this time with Liyan?”

　　“What do you mean by ‘considerate’?”

　　“Don’t put her down. She has a strong sense of pride.”

　　“Pride?” Mrs. Huntington scoffed. “When you brought your previous girlfriends here to annoy me, did you care about their pride? I’m sure they thought they were coming here to meet me!”

　　It turned out his mother had seen through his intentions long ago. John felt foolish for not realizing it sooner. Now, as he brought someone he truly cared about home, his mother refused to believe he was serious. John regretted bringing Liyan home so soon. If his mother didn’t accept their relationship or made things difficult for Liyan, he planned to confront her immediately and leave with Liyan, refusing to let her be mistreated.

　　What John didn’t know was that, just like with his previous partners, his mother had hired a private detective to investigate Liyan’s background. John knew Liyan’s character, but he understood less about her past than her mother did.

　　For Liyan, stepping into the Huntington estate for the first time was a breathtaking experience. It wasn’t until she saw the full splendor of the estate that she realized John’s visit to Pemberley had been a carefully planned rehearsal for today. Suddenly, she understood what Rachel meant by the Cinderella story—John was a “prince,” the kind of prince that countless women dream of.

　　The Huntington estate’s ground floor reception room was a picture of elegance, with intricately carved leather wall panels and a ceiling adorned with rosewood reliefs. The wool rug, decorated with lush green vines, harmonized perfectly with the space. At the room’s center was a luxurious red velvet sofa, positioned in front of an antique coffee table crafted with Italian inlaid stone. Though the room’s furnishings were minimal, each piece was a testament to the owner’s impeccable taste. The vast reception area was more than ample for hosting a medium-sized concert.

　　In stark contrast, Liyan’s family lived on Hongfu Lane, a bustling area in central Shanghai. The name of the lane was misleading, as the reality of their lives was far from festive. To make space for her mother and stepfather, Liyan and her younger stepbrother shared a cramped attic. The attic was barely tall enough to stand upright in the center. To save space, her stepfather had a carpenter build a basic bunk bed—her lively stepbrother took the bottom bunk, while Liyan, who preferred order, occupied the top bunk.

　　The attic was furnished with just a desk, a folding chair, and a small bookshelf at either end. Liyan had no wardrobe; instead, she folded her clothes into neat squares and stored them in a camphor chest under the bed. Without proper ventilation, even synthetic fabrics would grow musty, making the purchase of good clothes impractical. Thus, Liyan wore the same plain school uniform every day. With so little furniture, movement in the attic was a challenge; if one person wanted to move, the other had to sit still. Liyan managed by bending carefully, but her mischievous stepbrother frequently banged his head against the ceiling, resulting in a fair share of bumps and bruises.

　　The shared kitchen was a battleground among the four households. During peak times, the communal sink was a hot commodity. If one household was still washing their rice, the next would try to cut in. “Hey, Wang’s mom, are you finished yet? Washing rice isn’t like mining for gold. Just get it done, anyone can use the sink,” Wang’s mom would snap back, “It’s first come, first served, you know?” The housewives’ grievances were as persistent as the acrid smoke in the kitchen. Yesterday, they argued over splitting the water bill; today, it was about a clogged sink. Wang’s mom often suspected her neighbors of sneaking in their soy sauce and muttered complaints while cooking. To avoid kitchen conflicts, Liyan’s mother always woke up early to prepare breakfast for the family. For dinner, her stepfather would bring extra portions from the company cafeteria. During the workweek, the family made do with quick meals, but on weekends, her mother would pull out all the stops to treat their taste buds.

　　Dominant neighbors would pile their old belongings in the shared corridors, never considering to use them again for years. Asking them to throw the items away was like asking them to cut off a part of themselves. Walking down the corridor felt like facing a blockade, with the already cramped space becoming even tighter with the clutter. The residents of Hongfu Lane knew to keep slim, as poverty necessitated a lean existence.

　　What Liyan found most unbearable was the lack of soundproofing in their home. The Zhang family’s drunken brawls, loud arguments, and their daughter’s terrified cries echoed through the thin walls. Uncle Yan from the Yan family would host late-night mahjong games and smoke-filled parties until dawn. Whether she wanted to hear it or not, the gossip of the entire lane was efficiently spread through the mahjong table as a hub of communication.

　　“Leilei married a guy from Taiwan, thinking she was headed for a better life. But he turned out to be running a scam company, embezzled the money, and disappeared. When the creditors came calling, Leilei had no choice but to slink back from Taiwan.”

　　“Little Wang went to Japan to work and sent all his meager earnings to his mother, leaving nothing for his wife. His mother bought a nice house and planned to live separately from the daughter-in-law. Little Wang had a mistress in Japan and was planning to divorce his wife, who remained blissfully unaware.”

　　“A-Mao got caught selling counterfeit foreign currency and ended up in jail.”

　　Every household’s secrets were laid bare for everyone to see. These scandals, which should have been kept hidden, became juicy gossip as long as they didn’t involve oneself. If it was someone you knew, it was even better. And if sharing the story could make people laugh, it was the highlight of their day. Spreading rumors and exposing secrets filled their need for excitement more than playing mahjong ever could. No one was immune to the idle chatter. Liyan dreaded hearing gossip about her mother’s second marriage. Her mother’s remarriage to her stepfather, just a year after their initial marriage, had been the talk of the lane. Liyan resented it deeply. To find some peace, she would plug in her headphones, crank the volume up, and let the Oxford Advanced English course loop on her portable device. Over time, she even developed a near-perfect Oxford accent.

　　Liyan’s exceptional achievements were widely known. Whenever her report card came out, parents in the neighborhood would envy her and praise her, “Liyan’s top of the class again!” They would then criticize their own children, “Look at the books you’re reading, just awful!” At first, Liyan was quite proud of her achievements, but over time, she noticed that her peers in the lane were distancing themselves from her.

　　It’s no surprise—people can tolerate a stranger being a role model, but they can’t stand someone their own age being exceptional. No one wants to be friends with someone who outshines them; it just highlights their own inadequacies. Liyan, however, didn’t let this faze her. She understood that those who are truly exceptional often walk a lonely path until they reach the pinnacle and meet others like themselves.

　　Over time, Liyan realized that adults' praise often had hidden motives, rooted in their jealousy of others’ success. When they said, “Liyan is destined to become a female Ph.D.,” the emphasis on “female” was a veiled critique, suggesting that a woman reaching such heights might struggle to find a good match. “Our grades don’t measure up to Liyan’s; her mother is a high school teacher,” implied that Liyan’s high marks were more about her mother’s profession than her own ability. “Liyan’s achievements aren’t that impressive,” was a way of belittling her success, suggesting that despite her excellent grades, she was still living in a shabby old building with them. Some even waited with a sour-grapes attitude, wondering when Liyan’s good grades would finally lead to a better life.

　　If these small-minded neighbors had a chance to see the Huntington estate, their astonishment would be palpable, and their envy even more bitter than the sharpest vinegar. Although her relationship with John was still uncertain, being formally introduced to his family was a major step up from her previous life. This was, after all, a recognition of her eighteen years of hard work. She felt proud to have moved beyond her old neighborhood to be educated at a world-renowned institution and to engage with cultured people. The common ground she shared with them felt more significant than with most people from her own background.

　　As her initial nervousness about visiting the estate waned, Liyan began to feel a justified sense of pride. She had already stepped into a more refined world and was determined to fully embrace it. The fate of standing out is either being pecked to death by the crowd or being assimilated. Liyan vowed never to return to that impoverished lane. What had once seemed like an impossible dream now felt like a clear, expanding ambition. With the wind at her back, she was determined to fight for a better future.

　　John led Liyan on a tour of the ground floor rooms. Two middle-aged women came down the stairs. The one in front wore a fitted cashmere suit, exuding the sharp efficiency of a professional; the one behind, dressed in a dark navy wool dress, had a cold, piercing gaze. Seeing John’s formidable mother for the first time made Liyan nervous, but she kept her composure. Before arriving at the estate, John had warned her to be prepared for his mother’s strong presence and not to be intimidated.

　　“Mom, this is Liyan Shen,” John introduced, trying to sound calm while silently hoping his mother wouldn’t make things uncomfortable for Liyan.

　　Liyan greeted her with poise, “Hello, Mrs. Huntington. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

　　Mrs. Huntington ushered John and Liyan to their seats. While she spent most of her time conversing with John, she was attentive to Liyan as well, even taking a moment to thank her personally. Mrs. Huntington implied that John’s new passion for reading was probably thanks to Liyan’s influence.

　　John was puzzled by his mother’s demeanor, but her polite treatment of Liyan put his mind at ease.

　　Liyan’s anxiety about feeling “like she was walking on eggshells” never came to pass. Mrs. Huntington simply engaged in casual conversation about everyday matters and life at Morton College. Liyan shared that her father was a bridge engineer, her mother a distinguished high school teacher, and her younger brother attended a prestigious university. Mrs. Huntington responded with an approving nod.

　　After lunch, John drove Liyan back to school, visibly relieved and cheerfully humming to himself.

　　Liyan, feeling more at ease, remarked, “Your mom wasn’t nearly as intimidating as you made her out to be.”

　　“I was genuinely worried my mother would put you in an awkward spot. You haven’t seen how she can make people feel small,” John said, his face reflecting genuine concern.

　　“Don’t talk about your mom like that. She was very kind,” Liyan said, trying to reassure him.

　　“She really was kind today,” John echoed, emphasizing the word “kind.”

　　After John and Liyan left, Mrs. Huntington started trimming the lily of the valley on her desk. Her mood seemed a bit unsettled, and she accidentally cut off several buds that hadn’t yet bloomed.

　　“Mrs. Huntington, the flowers are nearing the end of their bloom. Perhaps we should have the gardener replace them with a fresh pot tomorrow,” Nanny suggested gently.

　　“Forget it. We’ll leave them for now,” Mrs. Huntington said, setting the scissors down with a sigh.

　　Mrs. Huntington, who had always been cold and dismissive towards John’s previous girlfriends, was unexpectedly courteous to Liyan, which left Nanny feeling perplexed. Unable to hold back her curiosity, she asked, “Are you really considering having a Chinese woman as your daughter-in-law?”

　　“John’s just caught up in the novelty for now. A Huntington daughter-in-law needs to come from the right background.”

　　“Aren’t you going to try to dissuade her?”

　　Mrs. Huntington sighed again, “They probably won’t last, but I can’t break them up right now. Shen Liyan is gentle and straightforward. Since John started seeing her, not only has he stopped talking about dropping out, but he’s even started speaking with me more. My relationship with John has only just begun to mend. If I were to separate them now, I might lose him for good.”