Zhang Jingchan’s study was decorated quite fresh and elegant, with a sprig of wintersweet placed diagonally in a plain white small porcelain vase on the clean white desktop. Outside the window, birds chirped clearly.

Li Weiyi sat in front of the computer. Zhang Jingchan had one hand on the chair back, the other holding the mouse, leaning close as he bent over.

Li Weiyi looked at the new eighty-five-page PowerPoint and fell into deep silence.

Zhang Jingchan raised his hand and tapped the back of her head, saying: “No need to memorize it. When we go back, I’ll redo it. But you need to be very familiar with it.”

Li Weiyi: “What is this about this time?” Last time they’d already torn Fuming apart thoroughly, explaining everything. She really couldn’t think of what else there could be to discuss.

“Futures.”

Li Weiyi froze. He couldn’t possibly be thinking…

Zhang Jingchan said: “In 2014, La Niña weather patterns will cause South America’s worst drought in forty years and North America’s worst drought in a hundred years. U.S. soybean prices will rise from early in the year until early September, with the magnitude and duration of the increase setting historical records that exceed everyone’s expectations. If we go back this time in May, the market will have a small dip—perfect timing to enter. If… he truly is powerless, we’ll help him cheat once.”

Futures—Li Weiyi had never touched them, only heard they carried extremely high risk, with ten or even fifteen times leverage. She asked: “Aren’t you considering buying lottery tickets?”

Zhang Jingchan’s palm patted her chair back, saying: “With my father’s status and circumstances at that time, if he bought lottery tickets and won a billion, wouldn’t he end up in prison?”

Alright, winning a billion was indeed a bit much.

“But the principal—you estimate needing ninety million. Where could your father get that kind of money?”

Zhang Jingchan straightened up.

Today he wore a crew-neck diamond-patterned dark gray sweater and black pants, with a watch on his wrist, looking like a refined and gentle homebody. Yet the words he spoke were ruthless enough: “The choice is in his hands—choose the dead end or the living path. If he can offend both the government and all his partners without hesitation, immediately abandon all of Fuming’s ongoing projects, liquidate, sell off, and mortgage all assets at the fastest speed, then borrow more money under cover—I think he can scrape together ninety million. The best result would be that he’s not in debt, just left with nothing.”

——

That night, 10:06.

The black sedan slowly drove into the tunnel.

The car emerged from the tunnel. At the intersection ahead, the green light flickered. Li Weiyi’s heart slowly tightened.

Red light.

Zhang Jingchan’s car stopped first in the left-turn lane.

A group of people surged out from the subway entrance, crossing the pedestrian walkway in front of them, blocking their view. No different from the previous five nights.

Suddenly commotion came from ahead—engine sounds, the sound of tires rapidly scraping the ground. Someone was hit and sent flying into the air.

Zhang Jingchan suddenly pressed hard on the horn. The people in front of the car jumped in fright and scattered. Zhang Jingchan floored the accelerator and charged through.

Blazing white light shot straight toward them. Li Weiyi’s vision blurred. Zhang Jingchan’s car had already rushed to collide with the other vehicle before it could hit more people. The two cars crashed head-on with a violent roar as people who’d escaped disaster cried out in alarm.

In her spinning vision, Li Weiyi was thrown up then pulled back by her seatbelt. She struggled to turn her head. In the blinding white light, she vaguely saw in the opposite car a man sitting in black clothes, with an upright back, wearing a baseball cap and mask, his face almost invisible except for the blood. Yet in this moment when fates crossed, the man seemed to sense something. Despite his blood-covered face, he looked in her direction.

——

When Li Weiyi woke up, she found herself lying in what looked like a dormitory. The room had four bunk beds with desks below, and she was lying on the upper bunk by the window.

She immediately sat up, looking at her lean, solid long legs and a pair of large hands.

Li Yunmo sat on the lower bunk opposite, playing a game, and said: “Why did you sleep until this late today? Hurry up, there’s English class at ten.”

Li Weiyi quickly climbed down, opened the wardrobe, threw clothes on herself, hurriedly washed up in the bathroom, grabbed her wallet and phone, and was about to leave.

Li Yunmo stretched out his long leg to block her path: “Where are you going? Not going to class?”

Li Weiyi: “Don’t worry about it. I have something to do.”

Actually, from the moment she’d climbed down from bed using both hands and feet, Li Yunmo had noticed. Because normally Brother Chan would just lightly tap the ladder and jump down—he’d never climb down so delicately.

Li Yunmo stood up, his gaze complex: “Are you… going to find Li Weiyi?”

Li Weiyi looked at him in surprise and nodded.

Unexpectedly, when she walked out of the dorm building, Li Yunmo followed. But Li Weiyi now had Zhang Jingchan and didn’t need him as a driver anymore. So she imitated Zhang Jingchan, saying coldly: “I told you I have something to do. Don’t you have class? Why are you following me?”

Li Yunmo just followed along with his head down, saying nothing.

Li Weiyi: “Don’t follow me!”

He raised his head. Li Weiyi froze. His face was flushed bright red, his gaze extremely complex—fear was there, courage was there, struggle was there.

“Who… exactly are you?”

Li Weiyi was startled and stepped back. The two stared at each other blankly. Li Weiyi quickly composed herself, thinking that Li Yunmo and Zhang Jingchan were close as brothers wearing the same pants—with her behaving so abnormally every time, sooner or later he’d notice something fishy.

So instead she smiled. This relaxation meant she stopped pretending entirely, and her feminine manner immediately showed through, her smile sweet and refined.

This scene falling on Li Yunmo’s eyes was even more horrifying. His face went white: “What—what are you smiling at? Don’t come closer… Isn’t occupying Brother Chan’s body enough?”

Li Weiyi spat “Bah!” What occupying his Brother Chan’s body—that sounded so vulgar. She said seriously: “Don’t talk nonsense. Actually, I’m an immortal. Every time I descend, it’s to save your Brother Chan’s destiny.”

Li Yunmo: “You taking me for a kid?”

Li Weiyi: “…”

Too lazy to explain. She was in a hurry. She’d just checked—today was May 11, 2014, and her father had gone missing on the evening of May 8. Which meant nearly sixty hours had already passed. Her heart sank deeper and deeper as she walked toward the school’s main gate.

Li Yunmo followed like a tail, boldly asking: “You’re going to find Li Weiyi, right? Every time you come, you drill toward her place.”

Li Weiyi glanced at him sideways: “That’s right. So what?”

“I… drove here.”

Li Weiyi laughed at this. A good boy was a good boy—scared like this but still so obedient.

“Lead the way!”

“Oh…”

The two got in the car. Without Li Weiyi giving directions, Li Yunmo already knew the way well. He was driving an ordinary sedan worth around a hundred thousand yuan. Li Weiyi sat in the back seat.

Li Yunmo secretly observed her through the rearview mirror, only to be caught red-handed. She leaned forward, resting her arm on his seat. Li Yunmo’s scalp tingled as he drove with stiff arms.

Li Weiyi was curious: “You’re so afraid of me, why did you follow, and why are you actively driving?”

“I… I have a favor to ask of you.”