“A’Qian?” He looked at her with puzzlement, a warmth in his tone that Rong Qian hadn’t yet perceived.

“You’re calling for me?” Rong Qian pointed at herself, asking uncertainly.

His expression grew even more confused. Rong Qian, at this point not bothering with anything else, walked over and asked directly: “Are you Wei Long?”

“Why would you suddenly call me by that name?”

Hearing that, Rong Qian immediately asked: “Does that mean you have another name?”

He tilted his head. Behind the frames of his glasses, a pair of narrow, elongated eyes blinked, his eyelashes long. That look of confused innocence carried a potent impact on the female sensibility. After a long moment, she heard him say: “A’Qian, is this a new game you’re playing with me?”

“What new game? What are you talking about?” Rong Qian was bewildered too — but she quickly regained her footing and glared at him: “Never mind all that — I’m asking you a question!”

“Heh heh.” He couldn’t suppress a soft laugh, raising a cupped hand to his lips to conceal it. His gaze was indulgent and tender as he looked at her. Gently, he said: “You really haven’t changed one bit. Wei Long is my stage name. My real name is Shen Yi — have you forgotten?”

“Shen Yi?” Rong Qian furrowed her brow and thought for a moment before asking: “Which characters?”

Seeing that she was being completely serious, Shen Yi — though still uncertain what she was playing at — played along. He took her hand and slowly wrote the two characters for “Shen Yi” on her palm.

His fingers were lovely — long and pale, nails neatly trimmed. Rong Qian nearly found her attention pulled entirely to his hands. Only when he finished writing did she silently mouth the characters on her lips: Shen Yi.

It occurred to Rong Qian to wonder — could it be that the reason she’d found no information about Wei Long on the internet was because he went by the name Shen Yi instead?

That thought had barely formed when Rong Qian’s pupils slowly widened. She wrenched her hand back and stumbled several steps away from him.

Rong Qian now had two theories. One: she was dreaming. She gave herself a sharp pinch — it hurt. So not a dream. Which meant, in all likelihood: she’d been possessed by something.

“I’m done for — I was so obsessed with that man that I’ve completely lost my mind…” Rong Qian buried her face in her hands, pacing anxiously in circles, feeling as if she were going crazy.

“Looking at a man?” Shen Yi’s brow rose slightly, and his voice dropped a note. “Who have you been looking at?”

“You!” Rong Qian snapped back, exasperated. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm down.

She didn’t notice that the moment she said those words, the man across from her let the corners of his mouth curve with genuine pleasure. He gazed at her with warmth and amusement, murmuring softly: “A’Qian, what gift have you brought me this time?”

Rong Qian’s eyes flew open. “Gift?” she asked, bewildered.

Shen Yi shook his head slightly with a resigned smile — though his eyes held not a trace of reproach, only indulgent fondness and helpless affection.

He smiled and said never mind, then removed the watch from his own wrist and fastened it onto hers. He said to her: “This is something I’ve been wanting to give you. But I didn’t know when you’d come, so I kept wearing it — waiting. Now, at last, it can return to its rightful owner.”

Rose gold case, brown alligator leather strap, automatic mechanical movement — a classically vintage style that, even at a glance, clearly indicated extraordinary value.

The watch still carried his warmth. The moment it was fastened on, there was no cold sensation of metal. Rong Qian stood there baffled — she didn’t know this man at all, yet he behaved as though they were intimately familiar.

“Young Master… oh? Miss Rong is here!”

At that moment, a voice came from behind her. Rong Qian immediately turned around to find an elderly man of kindly appearance walking in — dressed in a western suit, holding a vintage old-fashioned camera in his hands.

Upon seeing him, Shen Yi curved his lips and called out: “Steward Fu.”

Rong Qian’s brow knitted. If only Shen Yi had been here, that might still have been explicable — but where had this Steward Fu come from?

Rong Qian rubbed her chin, at a complete loss. She had absolutely no idea what was happening — only that everything felt somehow out of place.

It was like her first time traveling abroad: everywhere she looked was unfamiliar. Just like right now — it felt as though she didn’t belong here.

“A’Qian, look at the camera, please.”

Lost in thought, she suddenly heard his voice. Rong Qian looked up and found that without realizing it, she had ended up standing behind him — and when she looked down at what she was wearing, she understood in a flash. She let out a startled sound.

“What’s wrong?” He immediately turned to her with concern.

Rong Qian was barely able to contain her excitement. She said urgently: “This — this photograph, I’ve seen it!”

“Oh?” The other’s expression remained puzzled.

“I mean the photograph of the two of us together! Right here — and I was standing exactly like this!” Rong Qian quickly struck the pose she’d seen in the photograph — arms folded across her chest, a smug and playful smile curving her mouth.

There was a soft click — Steward Fu, who had been waiting patiently with his camera, captured the moment in that instant.

The flash from the camera was intense. Blinded by the sudden burst of light, Rong Qian instinctively shut her eyes. When the brightness finally faded and she opened them again, she was left utterly stunned — she was back in the car.

Rong Qian gaped in disbelief. She was sitting in her vehicle, but her hands had left the steering wheel.

Seeing that she was about to collide with the car ahead, she gave a startled jolt and grabbed the wheel, jerking it hard to swerve clear.

In that same instant, she turned her head — and saw the car beside her with its window rolled down, a Black man in sunglasses making a shooting gesture at her, simultaneously signaling for her to pull over.

At that sight, Rong Qian stared in total disbelief. What was happening? Hadn’t this already occurred before her accident? Why was it happening again?

The other party, seeing she hadn’t stopped, rammed into her just as before.

Rong Qian still had absolutely no idea what was going on — but she knew one thing: her opponent had provoked her a second time. That feeling was one she did not appreciate.

She slammed the accelerator down. She tore through traffic, overtaking vehicle after vehicle, and when she reached the intersection, she wrenched the steering wheel hard.

The tires screamed against the pavement in a violent, shrill shriek — as if the tires themselves were crying out — and at high speed, the car executed a sharp change of direction, narrowly avoiding the vehicle that had come hurtling out of the intersection.

Rong Qian gripped the steering wheel, steadied herself, and didn’t let up — driving directly into the flow of traffic ahead until she had shaken the car behind her entirely.

She drove at full speed, and only when she reached the police station did she finally allow the tension strung taut within her to ease. She closed her eyes and drew a slow, deep breath.

When she opened her eyes and glanced at the bag on the passenger seat, she picked it up and searched through it — but could not find the old photograph.

Rong Qian went still. The photograph… had disappeared?

She searched everywhere, but there was simply nothing to find. This inevitably called to mind what had just happened, and she found herself wondering: what on earth was going on?

Whenever Rong Qian had a headache, she habitually pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose — but the moment she raised her hand, she felt a heaviness at her wrist. She looked down, and her eyes went wide.

On her wrist was the watch that the man called Shen Yi had put there.

Rong Qian quietly pinched herself again. It hurt. Thinking back on the surreal sequence of events that had just unfolded, she felt as though she were on the verge of shutting down completely.

She dropped her forehead against the steering wheel with a heavy thud. Utterly dazed, her spirit completely deflated, Rong Qian murmured to herself: “Wei Long… Shen Yi… what on earth is going on?”