Hong Kong 1980: Me and the Queen Swapped Clothes

Xiao Li knocked on the door: "Ah Ming, there's no toilet paper? I can't hear you."

"It's okay, I'm fine now." Fang Yanmei quickly composed herself, pretending nothing had happened, but she was unwilling to touch her face.

Xiao Li was already used to Qin Weiming's strange behavior, but seeing Fang Yanmei walking, he still asked curiously, "Ah Ming, why do you walk a bit like a woman?"

Fang Yanmei coughed and, in a moment of panic, lied: "I held it in for too long, and I feel a little uncomfortable."

"I understand. It's because Uncle Qin pressured you too much. You know, you can write music, why didn't you tell Uncle Qin?" Xiao Li had a good relationship with Qin Weiming, but what he said made Fang Yanmei pause. The original Qin Weiming could write music? She quickly dismissed the idea. The Qin Weiming she transmigrated into looked only fifteen or sixteen years old. How could he possibly write music?

"Xiao Li, you must be mistaken. I'm only a few years old, how could I possibly write music?" Fang Yanmei tried to change the subject because she felt that Xiao Li might have been deceived by Qin Weiming.

Xiao Li asked doubtfully, "Really? You said it was the song you dreamed about, and you even showed me a black notebook where half of the song was already written."

Fang Yanmei did not inherit Qin Weiming's memories, and quickly said, "Let me go back and take a look. I still think it's not perfect enough."

"You have such high standards for yourself. No wonder you kicked out your previous teacher. Ah Ming, I think you've done a great job. If it weren't for your act of bravery, you wouldn't have been expelled from school. Don't put so much pressure on yourself." Xiao Li's words were sincere and touching, which moved Fang Yanmei. She thanked Xiao Li earnestly, but in her heart, she became somewhat curious about the original Qin Weiming.

"Ah Ming, go back and practice the piano for a while, or read some comics. Mom will call you when dinner is ready."

Qin's mother was busy in the kitchen wrapping the pork chops with batter and asked Fang Yanmei what flavor she wanted. Qin's father grumbled and said, "Don't give A-Ming so much fried food. He loves my chicken legs, and I'm already making them."

Qin's mother laughed in exasperation: "Do you think I don't know that you fry your chicken legs first and then boil them? It's so complicated. Only you would be willing to spend so much time on Ah Ming."

Fang Yanmei only said "Don't make it too spicy" before retreating to her room. Looking at the clean and tidy room, she felt that the original owner, Qin Weiming, was surrounded by love and warmth in every corner of the house. Yet, he still talked back to his father at every turn and acted the same way, just like her older brothers.

Perhaps this is what it means to be loved and therefore fearless.

"It doesn't seem like me," Fang Yanmei chuckled lightly, dismissing those irrelevant emotions, just a few hardships.

She calmly began searching the room; the notebook Xiao Li had mentioned should be somewhere in the room.

There is no desk.

I opened the drawer; nothing was there.

The room was very clean, even the floor was sparkling. When she looked at the guitar again, it stood out, and she couldn't help but squat down.

I couldn't resist touching the guitar strings; they felt icy cold.

If Qin Weiming were using this guitar now, would he sit in this chair and softly sing his own songs?

Fang Yanmei couldn't resist picking up the guitar and sitting down in the chair. She lowered her head and imitated strumming the strings. She didn't know how to play, but when she lowered her head, she caught a glimpse of a small notebook peeking out from the corner of the bed.

Fang Yanmei was overjoyed to find the notebook Xiao Li had mentioned. She carefully put the guitar back in its place, then took the notebook out from under the bed, locked the door, and finally opened it.

A thick 180-page notebook, but only the first page had writing on it.

A short, complete musical score, but without lyrics.

Fang Yanmei read it carefully and was shocked. The other person seemed to be different from the ignorant and incompetent person she had imagined.

After all, Fang Yanmei makes a living by singing, and she has read most of the popular songs on the market. Even with limited access, she is still one of the people who loves music the most.

As for the short musical score in front of her, Fang Yanmei was certain that she had never heard a similar melody before.

How did the other person do that? They're two years younger than me, yet they're so amazing.

Fang Yanmei felt a sense of defeat. If even a boy like this was disliked by Qin's father, then what was she?

She could only sing two songs. She didn't believe that Qin Weiming, who could write such musical scores, couldn't sing. Perhaps, as Qin's father said, he was just hiding his talents, and in the end, he ruined it himself.

Thinking about how she had repeatedly ruined Qin Weiming's plans after transmigrating, Fang Yanmei felt uneasy.

Just then, Qin's mother came to ask her to come down for dinner, and at the table she kept putting pork chops and chicken legs on Fang Yanmei's plate, urging her to eat more.

Qin Ma's unconditional maternal love and care melted away Fang Yanmei's defenses and even gave her somewhat parched heart new energy. However, she still realized that she was robbing Qin Weiming's parents, which was the act of a thief, and she could not do it.

Even though Qin Ma gave her the kind of maternal love that Fang Yanmei had always longed for in her dreams, she still tried very hard to pull her hand back.

She began to eat rice in small bites, trying to swallow the bitterness in her heart.

Qin's mother worried, "Aming, don't just eat rice, eat more meat. Did I put too much salt in today?"

Fang Yanmei couldn't hold on any longer.

She took a small bite of the pork chop. The batter was fried just right, and the crispy texture of the freshly fried pork chop made a crunching sound between her lips and teeth. The fragrant and juicy pork chop was incredibly delicious.

"It's so delicious!" Fang Yanmei's eyes were shining.

She seemed to have never eaten anything so delicious before. Even the fattest roast goose from her regular roast meat shop couldn't compare to the fried pork chops made by Aunt Qin.

Qin's mother smiled: "Silly son, if it's delicious, eat more. Mom will make you something else delicious tomorrow."

"Hey." Since she couldn't hold on, Fang Yanmei decided to steel herself and eat her fill, even if it meant dying a full one.

After half a bowl of rice.

Fang Yanmei put down her chopsticks: "Mom, I'm full."

Aunt Qin was stunned: "You usually eat three bowls of rice before you're full, how come you're full so quickly today?"

Fang Yanmei was embarrassed. She hadn't expected Qin Weiming to have such a large appetite. She could only stammer for a while before saying, "Then I'll have another bowl."

Fang Yanmei ate another bowl of rice and felt like she was about to burst, but she didn't feel anything. The craving made her laugh.

"I can't eat anymore," Fang Yanmei said reluctantly as she left the table. She felt as if she had entered a paradise where she didn't have to earn money to support her family and had loving parents. She wished she could stay here forever.

Qin's mother reminded her, "We're going to Aunt Xia's house tomorrow to thank her. I'll take you there. Aunt Xia is very busy; she's going to act in a TV series. I don't know why she chose you. You'd better be good."

"Oh, oh." Fang Yanmei responded habitually, then suddenly realized what she meant and stared at Qin Ma in surprise: "Mom, why didn't you say so earlier?"