15. Qian Qian’s Identity
Today’s dinner at Jiang Zhi’s house is—some takeout consisting of ridiculously discounted Longjiang Pork Hock Rice!
That’s right, it’s takeout again.
Qian Qian kept stirring the rice with the spoon in her hand, her big, watery eyes filled with resentment towards her mom.
“Mom…”
Jiang Zhi glanced at her, chewing her rice, having predicted her daughter’s prediction: “I can’t cook, you know.”
“Um!”
The little girl pouted: “Mom won’t cook for Qian Qian! Mom is a bad mom!”
Mom used to be different!
Mom used to be great, always making all kinds of delicious food for Qian Qian every day!
Jiang Zhi patiently coaxed: “You’re still little now. When you grow up, you’ll understand how great takeout is.”
“Be good, tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll order it for you.”
Another round of coaxing.
In the realm of convincing children, Jiang Zhi considered herself talented enough to easily win over Qian Qian.
But this time, the little girl wasn’t buying it.
Qian Qian slammed her hand on the table: “No! Qian Qian doesn’t want takeout, Qian Qian wants to eat food made by mom!”
“Qian Qian… uh… uh…”
Su Ziqian fell silent.
Because Jiang Zhi had already shot her a threatening and inscrutable glance.
Actually, Jiang Zhi had always been a good-tempered person.
She wouldn’t show her emotions or do anything threatening.
But in front of her daughter, she managed to exhibit some commanding gestures, naturally carrying a hint of a tigress’s demeanor.
If one had to say…
It resembled a subtle bloodline pressure that stemmed from the connection between mother and daughter.
Qian Qian lowered her head and obediently scooped a spoonful of rice: “Okay, Qian Qian will be good.”
“Hey~”
Jiang Zhi retracted her dangerous gaze and sighed: “I’ll cook for you later.”
She also knew that she had been a bit too much.
What kind of parents would force their children to eat takeout—unless those parents truly couldn’t cook.
If Qian Qian couldn’t get used to takeout for a long time, that wouldn’t be good either.
So why not put in some effort?
Hmm…
Jiang Zhi decided that she would learn to cook when she had the time. At the very least, she didn’t want to poison her daughter.
“You keep eating first. After you’re done, just throw the lunch box in the bag; I’ll take out the trash tomorrow.”
After saying this, Jiang Zhi put down her spoon and walked into the room without looking back.
Time to work!
Thus, in the not-so-large living room, only Qian Qian remained, sitting alone at the dining table.
Several times, she glanced towards Jiang Zhi’s bedroom, her little feet swinging back and forth, not saying anything, just eating her rice bite by bite.
Mom was really busy.
She thought.
On the other hand.
Back in her bedroom, Jiang Zhi wasn’t idle either. She opened the typing software and began diligently typing on the keyboard.
Hard work would yield rewards, and with rewards, one would want to keep working for more.
That saying wasn’t wrong.
Jiang Zhi used to write novels with a laid-back approach, typically stuck in a cycle of typing for five minutes and watching videos for an hour.
She’d be satisfied just to achieve full attendance.
But as she had been writing more recently and the statistics improved, it seemed she had regained some of the enthusiasm she felt in the early days of writing.
Not to mention, she had a natural talent for writing.
So this was undeniably a positive cycle.
For example, the novel she was currently writing had unexpectedly made it into the top ten of the romance section rankings.
In the past, Jiang Zhi wouldn’t have dared to even dream of that.
Although the royalties weren’t that much, more but not significantly, writing novels seemed like a dead end!
After finishing her manuscript, she uploaded today’s chapter, then leaned back in her chair, staring blankly at the computer screen.
After overthinking, she didn’t want to do anything else.
By the way, did Simai Lu send her a message?
Jiang Zhi checked QQ.
Simai Lu: Do you want any gifts?
Simai Lu: I’m in America, I can bring you some souvenirs back.
Accompanied by a picture.
The location in the picture seemed to be a fancy restaurant, with glamorous decor, crystal chandeliers casting colorful glows.
In the middle of the restaurant stood a piano, and a white man in a suit was playing it.
On the table in front of the photographer was food that clearly looked “expensive and small in portion.”
I am a pigeon: !!!
She was once again amazed by the wealth of her rich friend; she probably wouldn’t get the chance to visit such high-end occasions in her lifetime.
So what exactly does Simai Lu do?
Regarding this person who was both her fan and online friend, Jiang Zhi felt she both knew and didn’t know him well.
She knew many of his hobbies, like his preference for long black hair, white stockings, and high heels… they had chatted about personality aspects over the years, so she had a rough impression.
But aside from that, she didn’t know anything else.
Jiang Zhi didn’t know Simai Lu’s age, appearance, or job.
Her online friends often joked that Simai Lu was a so-called domineering president, but it was just playful banter.
Simai Lu wouldn’t say, and Jiang Zhi wasn’t eager to ask.
What for? Would asking make him share some money with her?
She certainly didn’t want to risk losing a friend over her own overstepping.
She already didn’t have many friends.
There was a girl she had a crush on who considered her a friend, but she felt she might be losing her soon!
Besides, Simai Lu had no idea about her either, right?
So that was fair.
Maybe she was overthinking it…
Jiang Zhi snapped back to reality, reflecting for a moment, then slowly typed out a message.
I am a pigeon: The air in America?
Simai Lu: ?
I am a pigeon: Ah, we shouldn’t bother with gifts, let’s forget about it.
Gifts?
No way.
Jiang Zhi still felt the need to maintain a certain distance from her online friend.
The current distance between her and Simai Lu felt just right; they could occasionally play games and share memes while knowing there was a friend on the other side of the internet.
Mainly, she didn’t want to reveal her address.
Simai Lu: Oh.
After waiting for a long time, he simply replied with one word.
Simai Lu’s responses were succinct, and Jiang Zhi wasn’t concerned if he grasped her intent; after all, she had made her position clear.
Given Simai Lu’s emotional intelligence displayed during their chats, he was likely to understand.
I am a pigeon: Not talking about this anymore, are we playing games or not?
Simai Lu: I have something to do, let’s talk later.
I am a pigeon: Okay.
Jiang Zhi replied somewhat disappointedly; she had watched Sister Jiang playing games all day, her operations one after another, and it made her eager to play.
Without her big brother, she didn’t dare to play.
What if she lost points?
She had only just reached the Mythic rank this season!
After chatting for a while longer, Simai Lu logged off citing work.
Jiang Zhi also detached herself from the relaxed atmosphere of chatting with friends and slapped her face, not hurrying to shut down the computer.
She opened the browser.
Don’t misunderstand, she wasn’t trying to procrastinate (—
Jiang Ruyan’s conversation from the morning reminded her—it was time to arrange for Qian Qian’s schooling.
So what’s the prerequisite for school?
Answer: A legal identity.
Qian Qian isn’t just any child; she came from the future, and at this point, she hasn’t even been born yet.
Not being born, naturally, means she can’t have an identity.
In this world, a little girl appearing out of nowhere might not attract attention.
But to grow up healthy and happily, lacking an identity is simply not feasible.
Translation:
Qian Qian might lack an identity, but it’s unlikely she will remain without one.
Jiang Zhi needed to secure an identity for her daughter.
She spent a long time researching information about stateless individuals online, long enough to work up a sweat before stopping her search.
“Why is it so hot?”
Jiang Zhi’s hair felt a bit greasy; wiping her sweat off, she adjusted the air conditioner down by two degrees.
Then she shifted her gaze back to the information she had found on the computer screen.
Hiss (⊙_⊙)…
This…
It isn’t as hard as she imagined, is it?
Previously, when she read those novels about picking up wives from the Tang Dynasty, the Republic of China, or sword immortals, it seemed obtaining an identity was exceedingly difficult.
But when she searched, she discovered it wasn’t that complicated at all!
It was as simple as a paternity test that confirmed Qian Qian was her biological daughter.
However, there was a little extra difficulty for her…
She herself didn’t have an identity either, so she had to sort hers out first.
After all, the ID belonging to the male version of Jiang Zhi could definitely no longer be used.
So she needed to go to the hospital for a physical check-up, to confirm that she was indeed Jiang Zhi, before she could get her ID.
“Hey…”
Jiang Zhi felt a bit melancholic.
Going to the hospital meant she had to tell the doctor all about what happened to her.
Including revealing that she used to be a man, she would have to disclose that too.
Although she could understand—doctors are special—but if possible, she wanted to keep it to herself.
Really.
What’s the point of being dramatic, Jiang Zhi!
Her daughter’s identity is more important, okay!
She wiped her face again and was just about to take out her phone to make an appointment with the hospital when her little face suddenly scrunched up.
“Isn’t it just too hot?!”
Jiang Zhi finally realized something was off; how could it still be so hot with the air conditioner on? Wait… air conditioner?
Why isn’t it blowing air anymore?
