⭐ If you're enjoying the story, please vote, comment, and add it to your library to support it! ⭐
Money doesn't arrive loudly.
It arrives quietly.
And that's exactly why parents notice it.
It started with small deposits.
Nothing impressive.
A few hundred here.A little more there.
Music platform revenue.Ad-sharing income.A minor licensing fee from a student short film.
All legitimate.
All traceable.
All slow.
Which made it impossible to ignore.
My mother noticed first.
She always does.
She didn't say anything at dinner—just watched Yueyin scroll through her phone, smiling to herself, earbuds in.
Then she looked at me.
Too calmly.
"Are you busy tomorrow evening?" she asked.
"Yes," I answered honestly.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Cancel it."
That was when I knew.
The family meeting happened the next day.
No shouting.
No accusations.
Just four people sitting around the table like a trial that pretended not to be one.
My father folded his hands.
"Your sister's account received money again," he said.
Yueyin froze.
"…You checked my account?"
"We're your parents," my mother replied calmly. "Of course we did."
I placed my chopsticks down.
"I'll explain," I said.
They both turned to me.
Good.
That was how it should be.
"She's singing," I began. "Online."
My mother blinked. "Singing?"
"Original music," I continued. "Posted regularly. Slowly gaining attention."
My father's expression hardened. "And you?"
"I manage everything," I said. "Accounts. Upload schedules. Legal matters."
Yueyin opened her mouth.
I raised a hand.
"Let me finish."
She closed it.
⭐ If you appreciate grounded, realistic development, please vote, comment, and add the story to your library! ⭐
"This isn't a whim," I said calmly. "It's structured. Controlled."
My father leaned back. "The entertainment industry is dangerous."
"I know."
"That's exactly why I'm involved."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
But not hostile.
My mother spoke softly. "How much attention?"
"Not much," I replied. "Yet."
I showed them the numbers.
No inflated screenshots.
No cherry-picking.
Just slow graphs.
Steady upward lines.
"This isn't viral success," I said. "It's organic growth."
My father studied the data longer than expected.
"…This is professional."
"Yes."
"And the money?"
"Direct platform revenue," I answered. "No contracts. No agencies."
Yueyin looked between us nervously.
"I didn't sign anything," she added quickly. "I swear!"
I nodded. "She didn't."
My mother sighed. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Because you would've said no," Yueyin muttered.
"That's not fair," my mother replied.
"It's accurate," my father said quietly.
That surprised all of us.
He looked at me.
"You're confident," he said. "Too confident for someone your age."
I met his gaze. "I prepared."
"How?"
I paused.
Not long.
Just enough.
"Research," I said. "Planning. Trial and error."
Not a lie.
Just incomplete.
Yueyin clenched her hands. "I'm serious about this," she said suddenly. "I practice every day."
My mother softened. "We know."
My father added, "That's why we're worried."
I leaned forward.
"She's protected," I said. "I won't let her get hurt."
The words left my mouth naturally.
Too naturally.
The room went silent.
My mother watched me closely.
"You've changed," she said. "You used to avoid responsibility."
I smiled faintly. "People change."
She didn't argue.
After a long moment, my father nodded.
"We won't stop her," he said.
Yueyin gasped. "Really?!"
"But," he continued, raising a finger, "no agencies without us knowing."
"Agreed."
"No private meetings."
"Of course."
"And if this starts affecting her studies—"
"I'll pull the plug," I said.
Yueyin glared at me.
I ignored it.
The meeting ended quietly.
No celebration.
No relief.
Just acceptance.
Which was better.
Later that night, Yueyin barged into my room.
"You didn't have to be so serious!" she whispered angrily.
"I did," I replied.
She crossed her arms. "…Thanks."
That was enough.
The system flickered briefly.
[Progress Update:]External trust stabilized.Financial flow confirmed.
I ignored it.
This wasn't about systems or rewards.
This was about building something that could survive scrutiny.
As I turned off the light, my phone buzzed.
A message from Xiaoyu.
"Your parents didn't look angry today."
I smiled slightly.
"They weren't."
Another message followed.
"That means you're doing something right."
Maybe.
Or maybe I was just getting better at standing between danger and the people I cared about.
Either way—
The climb continued.
Slow.
Steady.
Unavoidable.
⭐ If you're enjoying the story, please vote, comment, and add it to your library to support it! ⭐