Rong Qian lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall back asleep.

The moment she closed her eyes, Shen Yi’s face surfaced in her mind — eyes reddened, isolated and helpless, heartbreaking to look at.

She suddenly remembered: at this hour, he would normally be studying foreign languages.

All those complicated, tongue-twisting languages — Rong Qian could never keep them straight. Every time Shen Yi quizzed her, she’d resort to her cleverest trick and annotate the passages she needed to memorize in Chinese.

Every time Shen Yi heard her read them aloud like that, he’d end up laughing.

And ever since she had witnessed his learning ability — extraordinary, far beyond anything normal — Rong Qian had wanted nothing more than to call him a freak.

Shen Yi was undeniably brilliant. When they read the same book, he could pinpoint exactly which page any particular exchange appeared on. His memory was staggering.

The more she thought about it, the sadder she felt. The thought of her being gone, of him withdrawing back into that solitary state all alone, made her worry on his behalf without being able to stop herself.

“No — wait!” Rong Qian sat bolt upright. “This is no time for sleeping. I need to find him as soon as possible and explain — I didn’t abandon him on purpose!”

She hadn’t anticipated her impact on him would be so profound. He’d been ill for over two months, and even after recovering, he’d been left with lingering health problems. If she didn’t give him an explanation, it truly wasn’t right.

Rong Qian opened her laptop and typed in Xu Zhiwei’s name, hoping to turn up some lead. But after searching for a long while, she found nothing.

Had he already passed away?

She did the math. In 1967, Xu Zhiwei had been in his thirties. That would make him over eighty now — close to ninety.

She had no way of knowing whether he had lived to such an age.

“What are you doing in here? Come and have some tonic.”

Her mother noticed the door was unlocked and looked in to find her sitting at the computer, scratching her head in frustration. She suddenly thought that what she should have brewed wasn’t a tonic for the body — it ought to have been one for the brain.

Rong Qian drifted to the dining table in low spirits, sat down, and without really registering what was in front of her, started spooning whatever it was into her mouth. Beside her, her mother watched with a strange expression. “Is air tasty?”

“Hm?” Rong Qian blinked. Right — there was nothing in the bowl.

Seeing her daughter in this state, her mother couldn’t help but start in: “Just look at you, wandering around like you’re not all there. What are you thinking about? I was meaning to introduce you to someone — thought you were working too hard. But did you give the poor man even a chance? Not a bit.”

“Who says having someone to date means work gets any easier?” Rong Qian muttered under her breath. Her mother shot her a sharp look, and Rong Qian immediately fell quiet and went back to eating air.

Her father signaled with his eyes for her mother to let it go. Her mother didn’t enjoy nagging either, but the man she had selected for her daughter was genuinely impressive.

“So tell me — what exactly are you looking for in someone? Xu Yang is such a fine, accomplished young man, and you didn’t even give him a second glance. What are you holding out for — someone divine?”

Rong Qian pushed back: “It’s not a matter of whether he’s good enough. If there’s no spark, there’s nothing you can do about it, is there?”

“He’s such a good-looking young man — and he’s not some actor or celebrity. For an ordinary person, that’s already remarkable. If you’re still not satisfied, what, are you waiting to marry a famous star?” her mother said, clearly exasperated.

Rong Qian’s head was starting to ache. Here we go again.

“I’m not just saying things to make you feel better — Xu Yang isn’t just accomplished himself. His family background is no small thing, either. His second great-uncle, Xu Zhiwei — now there’s a legendary figure.”

Her mother had said it only in passing. But Rong Qian leapt to her feet.

“Mom — did you just say his second great-uncle’s name is Xu Zhiwei? Which three characters?”

Rong Qian hurried to confirm it. Her mother thought the reaction was thoroughly bizarre but told her all the same.

Once she was certain it was the same person, Rong Qian was overjoyed. She cupped her mother’s face in both hands and planted a smacking kiss on her cheek.

“Mom! Thank you so much — I’m going to find Xu Yang right now!”

She was already flying toward the door when she stopped, turned back, and asked: “Wait — Mom, what’s Xu Yang’s phone number?”

Her mother stared at her.

This reckless girl — the carefully chosen prospective match she had gone to such effort to select, and she hadn’t even kept his phone number.

Rong Qian reached Xu Yang and asked to meet him. He said he was on his way to an auction and asked if they could reschedule.

“Where’s the auction? I’ll come to you!” Rong Qian had no time to wait.

Xu Yang found it a little odd, but since she was so pressing about it, he gave her the address. “Miss Rong, you need an invitation to get in. If you arrive before me, you’re welcome to wait — I’ll bring you in with me.”

Rong Qian had no objection. That would work.

When she arrived at the auction venue, it was exactly as Xu Yang had described — strictly controlled access at the door. Without an invitation, entry was not permitted.

Rong Qian hadn’t planned to go inside anyway. The person she needed to see was Xu Yang.

Before long, Xu Yang arrived with an assistant, though he seemed to be in a hurry. He said she could tell him whatever she had to say once they were inside.

Rong Qian had no choice but to follow him in. Once they were seated in their designated spots, Xu Yang apologized. “I’m so sorry — there’s something very important I absolutely must get my hands on today. I hope it won’t take too much of your time.”

“Not at all. I have the day off today — I’ve got nothing to do.” Rong Qian waved it off easily. She had never actually been to an auction before; it would be an experience.

And from a glance at the room, it was clearly no ordinary auction. The whole event had a distinguished, refined air, and whatever was to be sold here was undoubtedly of significant value.

Xu Yang looked at her, and the corner of his mouth curved slightly. He genuinely liked her personality — easy and pleasant to be around.

“Right — you were in such a hurry to find me. What is it?” Xu Yang only then recalled.

Rong Qian didn’t beat around the bush. “I heard you have a second great-uncle named Xu Zhiwei?”

Xu Yang paused. “That’s right. Is something the matter?”

Rong Qian came straight out with it: “Would it be possible for me to meet him?”

“Miss Rong — you came this urgently, just to… meet my second great-uncle?” Xu Yang’s expression was impossible to describe. He hadn’t expected to hear that name from her.

By any stretch, there was no conceivable connection between them. Why would she suddenly be asking about his great-uncle, and why on earth did she want to meet him?

Rong Qian knew the directness of it must seem jarring, but she had always preferred saying things plainly rather than dancing around them. “I know this seems strange out of nowhere, but I do have something I need to say to your second great-uncle. So — can you help me arrange it? If not, that’s alright. I’ll find another way.”

“Miss Rong, my second great-uncle is eighty-nine years old this year. At his age, very few people who knew him back in the day are still around. So I’m genuinely curious — what could you possibly want to say to him?” Xu Yang was equally blunt.

Rong Qian pressed her lips together, on the verge of answering — when the host took the stage and announced the auction was officially open.

Rong Qian had to set the matter aside and wait until the auction was over.

“I mentioned earlier,” Xu Yang said suddenly, “that there’s something very important I absolutely must obtain today.”

Rong Qian was focused on watching the stage, where a jewelry set was currently being auctioned off at a price that made her eyes widen. She answered him only half-attentively. “What?”

“It’s something my second great-uncle wants.”

That got her attention. Rong Qian turned to him immediately. Xu Yang smiled slightly. “Wait a little longer. The item will be brought out shortly.”

Rong Qian waited. Eventually, two staff members carefully carried out a painting in a red-cloth-draped frame. Xu Yang said then: “That’s it. The painting.”

“A painting?” Rong Qian stared for a moment. Then something struck her and she muttered: “Surely not…”

In no time, the red cloth was lifted — revealing the subject of the painting, confirming exactly what Rong Qian had half-feared.

Rong Qian covered her face and couldn’t bring herself to look.

Xu Yang took one look at the painting and was stunned. He clearly hadn’t known ahead of time what it depicted — he had only known his second great-uncle had told him to acquire the single painting being auctioned that day.

He looked at Rong Qian with wide, startled eyes. Was it a coincidence? The angel painted on that canvas — she was the spitting image of the woman sitting beside him.

The host on stage explained: the painting was created in 1968, by an unknown and anonymous artist. The painting bore the title “ANGEL” and had passed through the hands of numerous wealthy collectors over the decades, making it a one-of-a-kind treasure.

In 1981, at a private auction in New York, it had been purchased by a mysterious buyer for sixty million.

Twenty years later, in 2001, the painting was donated to a charitable organization — and now, it had returned to the auction stage.

When the introduction concluded, the room buzzed with murmuring. An unknown artist, yet with a value this high — would acquiring it as a collector’s item be likely to appreciate further in value?

Rong Qian was astonished. Someone had paid sixty million for a portrait of her in 1981? Were they out of their mind?

No — actually, she corrected herself. Whoever it was had probably seen the artistic technique rather than caring about the subject’s face. Completely unrelated to what the person in the painting looked like.

Xu Yang, though full of questions, raised his bidding paddle the moment the host called for bids. He had to get this painting.

Not that Xu Yang needed to worry — there were barely any other bidders competing with him. In the end, he got it for eighty million.

When the host announced that price, Rong Qian felt even more strongly that the mysterious buyer who had spent sixty million in 1981 had been a fool.

Wait — Rong Qian suddenly thought of another possibility.

What if that buyer had been absolutely determined to have the painting — and someone had deliberately driven up the bidding against him, pushing the price up to that figure, and that mysterious buyer had bought it without batting an eye?

Who on earth was that mysterious buyer?