It wasn’t that she hadn’t imagined the scene of going to the hospital for a blood test, but every time she started imagining, she didn’t dare think further, dragged down by unknown fears. But when this moment truly arrived, when the needle truly pierced her vein, it was like those thriller movie scenes she didn’t dare watch as a child—suddenly seeing the behind-the-scenes production process, she felt it was nothing special. Or perhaps Jin Yiken’s sweet words last night had an effect, keeping her adrenaline pumping until now. She didn’t feel anything.

Just like a simple physical examination.

She left getting the report to Lao Ping. For the next two days, she stayed holed up in the school dormitory, attending classes as usual. Jin Yiken openly returned to his home. As soon as Ban Wei caught wind of it, he started getting wild, urging people to organize gatherings. But Jin Yiken was busy being the dutiful son—three out of five phone calls got responses of “no time,” making Ban Wei harass Long Qi instead. She was even busier, taking ballet classes—she declined everything.

Lian Shaozi had just taken office at Valango, right at the height of her spirited momentum with thousands congratulating her. It also coincided with the critical juncture of dividing assets from the divorce. Jin Yiken said his father was making big moves—whether he was approaching it as a last meal or still harboring old feelings preparing to turn things around was unclear. Not only had he personally taken charge of organizing the birthday celebration, he’d also summoned half the board of directors to attend that evening’s family banquet. In previous years, Jin Yiken returning home for a reunion dinner was already giving plenty of face. That Jin Yiken had easily obtained Lian Shaozi’s permission to return home with one phone call that evening was also related to this.

That’s what he said. Long Qi didn’t understand. He didn’t explain much, and she didn’t press.

Wu’er’s production entered its final preparation phase, filming would start in November. Long Qi juggled “Small Town,” “Wicked Woman,” and school courses—busy beyond measure. However grand the Jin family banquet’s spectacle, however much buzz it generated, she wasn’t a guest of honor. Without getting the test report, she remained in the prohibited contact period with Jin Yiken. She could only manage herself.

The weather grew colder and colder.

Long Ziyi had replaced Qijie and Wukong’s nests with autumn-winter ones.

She saw it through the surveillance.

Perhaps the old lady’s anger had subsided, or perhaps Lu Zimu had secretly lent a hand. After angering Long Ziyi by escaping the blood test last time, the surveillance had been off for a week. These past few days, on a whim, she took a look—it was back on. After the last class in the afternoon, the day-night temperature difference had become absurdly large. Cold wind mixed with light rain threads. Most people returned to their dorms to warm up and add layers, while Long Qi called a car and rode to the entrance of Long Ziyi’s residential complex.

Upstairs, closed the door, turned off the surveillance.

Not having seen them for weeks, Qijie had grown quite a bit and become shy of strangers, crouching in the corner of the sofa. A pair of blue eyes narrowed to slits. Hearing sounds, her body was too lazy to move even a bit. Wukong was increasingly pig-like, puffing and snorting wherever she went. She walked all the way into Long Ziyi’s master bedroom, smoothing her long hair, and rummaged through the nightstand drawers on both sides.

Didn’t find the household registration booklet.

She went into the dressing room again, sweeping through some small drawers, then went to the storage room, to the study, to nooks and crannies, searching while keeping track of time. Long Ziyi usually got off work at seven and arrived home at eight. Right now it was seven-fifteen—three-quarters of an hour until she got home. If Lu Zimu wasn’t home at this time, she was either helping Long Ziyi take the twins to tutoring or had a private appointment. The timing was uncertain, but Lu Zimu wasn’t really a threat.

Searching busily, her phone suddenly rang, startling her with a shiver. A cabinet door she was opening slid, and a whole box of books fell out. The call was from Ban Wei. She put the phone on speaker, placed it on the cabinet, and put the spilled books back in the box one by one. Ban Wei’s side was especially noisy—clearly he was soaking in a nightclub, his words also carrying the smell of alcohol. “Where are you, Qiqi?”

“At home.”

“Come drink a couple with me if you’re not busy.”

“I’m busy.”

“Hey, it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. I’m feeling sad and want to chat with you.”

“Your sadness boils down to two things—one, can’t write songs; two, can’t get Wu Jiakui. Your new song just went online the day before yesterday and hit number one, and as for Wu Jiakui, I’ve heard that topic until my ears are calloused. Obviously I have more sad things than you.”

The books in the box should all be Lu Zimu’s—quite profound. As she spoke, she looked at them. Ban Wei, hearing Wu Jiakui’s name, had his conversation box activated, completely ignoring her preceding and following words. Revolving around these three characters, he began chattering endlessly again. Finally, he asked, “As a woman, tell me, what do you all like about Jin Yiken?”

“Talks little, flirty, doesn’t cling.”

Instant response.

Ban Wei choked. She’d already put all the books back in the box, leaving only some photo albums wrapped in yellow envelope paper. One had fallen to the ground in an open state. She saw a childhood photo of herself, looking like she was under one year old, wearing purple one-piece baby clothes, held on Long Ziyi’s lap. Only then did she remember that Long Ziyi had never shown her any childhood photos, saying photography wasn’t popular back then. But clearly other families had basketfuls of children’s growth records, especially those from well-off families like Jin Yiken’s—just the growth documentary before age five could fill an entire day of viewing. She only started having photos after junior high when she got her first phone.

Long Ziyi, that old liar.

She picked up the photo album and looked.

She was so adorable as a child.

So tiny, fair and tender, impossibly cute. Ban Wei began his second wave of endless chatter. She sat leaning against the cabinet door, flipping through the album pages. Next was a first birthday photo—she was held by Long Ziyi at a table with a small cake, Long Ziyi holding her as they blew out the candle.

Really surprising—Long Ziyi had actually celebrated her birthday.

She took a photo and sent it to Jin Yiken, continuing to flip through. They were all first birthday photos. That day Long Ziyi was in a very good mood, holding her, lifting her up, smiling the whole time. She thought Jin Yiken had really lucked out, finding a girl whose features had been absolutely stunning since childhood. Future children—having one would be a profit, each one.

…

But who was taking the photos?

According to her aunt’s account, Long Ziyi had gotten pregnant with her from a one-night stand and was single until she was five years old. Only after five did she remarry Chu Yaozhi and have the twins. But Si Bolin had found out that Long Ziyi and Chu Yaozhi had a marriage of convenience. In those five years of Long Ziyi’s single life, her aunt had also mentioned she’d briefly dated one or two boyfriends. So Lu Zimu should have appeared after those two or three boyfriends, before Chu Yaozhi. Therefore, these photos should have been taken by a boyfriend at the time…

That couldn’t be right.

How could she have a boyfriend just one year postpartum? Taking care of a baby would be overwhelming. In the photos, Long Ziyi’s figure hadn’t even recovered yet.

She continued flipping pages. Whenever there were photos of Long Ziyi with her, they were all taken at home—helping her change clothes, shaving her head, holding the back of her head while bathing her, even breastfeeding photos with clothes half-undone. The cameraman could be said to be filming 24/7. It didn’t seem like a girlfriend, nor a boyfriend. Long Ziyi’s personality wouldn’t allow her unrecovered figure to be exposed to a romantic interest. She’d lived with Chu Yaozhi for so many years, yet still maintained the habit of waking up half an hour early to put on makeup and pretend it was her natural face.

She leaned back against the cabinet door.

It seemed… there was only one possibility.

Ban Wei’s babbling voice gradually faded from her ears. She felt she might have discovered something extraordinary—something Long Ziyi had been laying out plainly on the table since childhood, telling her straightforwardly, yet always just those few words, never bothering to add details.

Maybe.

Long Ziyi’s wasn’t a one-night stand.

Maybe she had dated that person for a period of time.

Maybe that person had planned to stay and accompany her as she grew up.

Maybe…

The photographer was him.

…

But this thought came to an abrupt halt when she flipped to a photo near the back cover. The person who’d been behind the camera all along finally appeared, arm around Long Ziyi’s shoulder, faces pressed together smiling at the camera. Baby-stage her slept soundly in Long Ziyi’s arms. Long Ziyi was also smiling.

…