When Yan Qingyao woke and found that the sheets and blankets had been changed, while the rest of the room still lay in ruins, she sat in a daze for a while before calling for a maid to come in.

“Yes, my lady? What do you need?” The maid lowered her head, tense and nervous.

Yan Qingyao asked her: “Is there a woman in the young master’s room?”

“A woman? No, there isn’t,” the maid replied, looking puzzled.

Yan Qingyao fell silent for a long moment, then dismissed the maid.

She still remembered that woman’s eyes — clear and bright, clean and unwavering, with an inner strength that was plain to see. Beautiful, in a way that was wholly untouched, unadorned, pure and unstained.

Who was she?

In the days since Shen Chi’s return, he came and went early and late, and Rong Qian didn’t encounter him often. Shen Yi, as always during those days, remained in his room studying.

Just when Rong Qian had resigned herself to being cooped up in the room indefinitely with no chance of going out, Shen Yi told her one evening that he was to accompany his father to a banquet that night.

“A banquet? So that means we get to go outside!” Rong Qian’s eyes lit up immediately, her face breaking into a broad, delighted grin. She hadn’t set foot outside in over two full months.

Shen Yi looked at her and said plainly: “Not we. Me.”

“Who says? I can go with you too!”

“How?”

“Ah, that’s where you underestimate me. Hehe — I have my ways!” Rong Qian flashed him a smug grin, eyes sparkling.

Shen Yi looked at her, and for just a moment, his gaze lingered. He found himself thinking: she must live in sunlight — it was the only explanation for why she shone so brightly.

Yan Qingyao had shut herself in her room. Through the window, she watched father and son board the car and drive away from the estate. Only then did she emerge, making her way to Shen Yi’s room.

She checked under the bed, inside the storage cabinet, inside the wardrobe — every hiding place, one by one. Nothing unusual anywhere. Yan Qingyao closed the wardrobe door, her face expressionless, and turned and left.

Sitting in the car, Shen Yi rode in silence the whole way, consumed with worry: had Rong Qian managed to slip out with him? Where was she hiding now? What if she was discovered?

Children can’t hide their thoughts well, and Shen Chi noticed from the corner of his eye. He spoke: “What are you worried about?”

Shen Yi’s tightly clenched hands slowly loosened. He lowered his head and answered in a small, timid voice, “Afraid of you.”

“Pathetic.” Shen Chi’s eyes showed displeasure. He opened the car window, lit a cigarette, and between languid exhales said: “When we get there, don’t embarrass me. Otherwise, I’ll thrash you thoroughly when we get back.”

Shen Yi’s fists tightened again. After a long pause, he made a single sound: “Mm.”

The banquet was held in a magnificent castle. A long red carpet stretched down the entrance, and there were camera operators and journalists positioned along the way. A conspicuous Lamborghini Miura pulled up to the entrance, and every camera immediately swung toward it.

The driver opened the car door. Shen Chi stepped out, holding Shen Yi’s hand. The flashbulbs were blinding. Though Shen Yi was uncomfortable, his eyes remained fixed ahead — unmoved, composed.

Father and son, as though cut from the same mold, one large, one small, both equally cold of expression. From the moment they entered, all eyes were on them.

Once the banquet was underway, Shen Yi was brought to join the other children his age. Every one of them was dressed like little princes and princesses.

Shen Yi didn’t fit in. He sat alone in a corner, scanning the crowd, searching for Rong Qian.

But among all the guests passing by, the person he wanted to see was nowhere to be found.

The light in Shen Yi’s eyes dimmed. Perhaps she hadn’t come after all…

Just as that thought formed, a maid in a serving uniform walked over and held out a glass of juice to him. Shen Yi didn’t even glance at it and said coldly, “I don’t want it. Take it away.”

“I carried this over personally, and you dare not drink it?”

Hearing that voice, Shen Yi’s head snapped up — and there was Rong Qian, wearing an exaggerated stern expression, hands planted on her hips, issuing her command: “Drink it!”

Shen Yi blinked, looked at her, then looked away as if confirming something, then looked back again.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you recognize me?” Rong Qian glanced down at herself, puzzling over whether she looked all that different.

Her hair was down. She’d put on a cute cat-ear headband. And she was wearing a maid’s outfit that showed off a pair of very long legs. With a face as lovely as hers, she looked good in anything.

Shen Yi picked up the glass and obediently took a sip of the juice, then asked her: “How did you get in?”

“Don’t even ask — it cost me a great deal of effort.” Rong Qian waved her hand with a world-weary look.

She glanced around — no one was paying attention to them — and sat down beside Shen Yi, launching into a full account of all the trials and tribulations she had endured to get here.

As she spoke, her expressions shifted dramatically, every word animated and vivid. Shen Yi watched her the entire time, the corner of his mouth curving upward without him realizing it, his whole body relaxing.

From across the room, Shen Chi swirled his wine glass, deep in conversation with several Americans. His gaze strayed casually to Shen Yi in the corner.

He had assumed the boy would still be sitting alone. Instead, he found him in conversation with a maid.

Shen Chi had always considered himself to know his son rather well: quiet and withdrawn, aloof and guarded, never approaching anyone. And yet here, right now, the boy was clearly completely at ease talking to a strange woman.

Shen Chi narrowed his eyes. But the woman had her back to him, and he couldn’t see her face.

Just as Shen Chi was thinking of going over, someone called out to him. He weighed his options, then turned and went with that person instead.

The moment Shen Chi walked away, Rong Qian let out a long, quiet breath.

She had been monitoring Shen Chi’s movements the whole time. The moment she had felt his gaze fall on her, she had already prepared herself to stand up and leave. Fortunately, Shen Chi had ultimately not come over.

“Is something wrong?” Shen Yi hadn’t noticed.

Rong Qian smiled. “Not at all!”

“Excuse me — is it alright if I sit here?”

A warm, polite voice. Rong Qian looked up, and saw a young man walking toward them with an amiable smile.

His words were addressed to Shen Yi — but regardless of whether Shen Yi agreed, he had already taken a seat.

Rong Qian studied the man. He appeared to be somewhere in his early thirties, wearing a sharply tailored, custom-fitted suit, though his overall impression was gentle. He smiled with an ease that put people at ease, courteous and well-mannered, and very handsome — a classic warm, dependable type who, it was obvious at a glance, was naturally well-liked by women.

Xu Zhiwei noticed Rong Qian looking at him, but didn’t think much of it. He was used to it.

“Your name is Shen Yi, isn’t it?” Xu Zhiwei looked at Shen Yi, his expression remaining consistently warm and friendly.

Shen Yi said nothing, his face blank and cool.

Xu Zhiwei didn’t seem to mind, and continued: “My name is Xu Zhiwei. I’m a friend of your mother’s — Yan Qingyao’s.”

Rong Qian’s eyes widened slightly. Xu Zhiwei — this was the man Yan Qingyao had loved?

Shen Yi’s brow furrowed. It was clear that he too already knew of Xu Zhiwei’s existence.

“I have a letter I’d like you to help me deliver to your mother. But you must be absolutely certain your father — Shen Chi — does not see it. Will you help me?” Xu Zhiwei’s manner was sincere. He had not condescended to Shen Yi on account of his young age.

Shen Yi’s frown deepened — but before he could respond, Rong Qian spoke first, fixing Xu Zhiwei with a direct look: “What are you trying to do?”

“And you are?” Xu Zhiwei heard the question and, only then, turned his attention fully to Rong Qian.

Rong Qian’s guard was up. She adopted an unequivocal tone. “I’m the one asking the questions right now. Answer what I just asked you: what are you trying to do?”

Years of questioning suspects had made it second nature, and the quiet force of authority she carried came through without effort. In the balance of power between them, she held the advantage.

Xu Zhiwei looked at Rong Qian with a particular kind of attention — a faint note of something unusual in his gaze.

This woman was quite unlike others. When she smiled, she had the easy warmth of an older sister next door. But the moment her lips pressed together and her eyes grew still, there was an effortless gravity about her — an authority that required no anger to command.

Noticing that Xu Zhiwei’s gaze kept returning to Rong Qian, Shen Yi’s eyes flickered with a trace of displeasure. He spoke up: “Why should I help you?”

Xu Zhiwei turned to look at Shen Yi, and said with a slight air of difficulty: “Could we speak somewhere quieter?”

He couldn’t keep Shen Chi distracted for too long.

Shen Yi instinctively glanced at Rong Qian. Rong Qian, at exactly that moment, turned to look at him too. Reading his intent from his expression, Rong Qian’s thoughts grew complicated.

She didn’t know what role Xu Zhiwei played in all of this, or what influence he might have on where Shen Yi’s future led — and could she truly make this decision for him?

Shen Yi wanted to go. He wanted to know what Xu Zhiwei was after. Rong Qian hesitated for a moment, then said to Shen Yi: “You decide.”

And so, Shen Yi left with Xu Zhiwei. Rong Qian followed.

After all, the entire reason she had come out tonight was to stay by his side.