Rong Qian dragged a chair into Shen Yi’s room and sat there keeping watch over him through the night, dozing off at some point without realizing it.

When she woke up in the morning, she found his jacket draped over her.

Rong Qian looked up — no one was there. She touched the bedsheets; they were still warm. The sound of rushing water came from the bathroom — he had gone to shower.

Rong Qian stretched lazily, glanced at the time. Six in the morning. Feeling unusually motivated, she decided to make breakfast.

She poured oil into the flat pan, turned the heat to high. Once the oil was hot, white smoke began to rise. Rong Qian picked up an egg, found the right angle, and cracked it into the pan.

With a sharp pop, oil splattered everywhere. Rong Qian stumbled back in fright.

Spatula in hand, she watched the egg threatening to burn. She wanted to go over and flip it, but the oil was still sizzling away, as if issuing her a warning. Rong Qian had no idea what to do — she was completely flustered.

Just then, a hand reached toward her and took the spatula from her.

A fresh, cool scent drifted to her nose. Rong Qian looked up to find Shen Yi, freshly showered, still carrying the faint mist of steam.

He skillfully turned down the heat, lifted the pan, gave it a light tilt with the spatula — and the fried egg flipped perfectly.

Rong Qian stared in astonishment. She clapped and exclaimed, “That’s incredible!”

Shen Yi’s expression didn’t change. He scooped out the already-blackened side of the egg, poured fresh oil into the pan, cracked a new egg with one hand while steadying the pan with the other — the whole sequence flowed like water.

Rong Qian couldn’t help but let her admiration show. She realized that no matter how long she’d known him, Shen Yi always found a way to catch her off guard and make her eyes light up.

Take right now, for instance — he was wearing a crisp white shirt, both sleeves rolled up to reveal lean, toned forearms. His hands were long and fair with well-defined knuckles, and she couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to hold one.

He must have been in a hurry when he washed up — his hair had been roughly towel-dried and left in a disheveled mess. Yet somehow it didn’t look messy at all; it looked deliberately styled, as though the tousled effect had been carefully crafted.

It really was true — when someone was born good-looking, they could wear rags and still look like royalty. It was all in the bearing.

“Plate.”

“Hmm?”

Shen Yi looked up at her. “Plate.”

“Oh!” Rong Qian snapped back to her senses and quickly handed him one.

Realizing she had been staring like a fool, Rong Qian silently cursed herself for being so hopeless.

But then she thought — this person would one day capture the hearts of countless young women and captivate the entire world. Getting momentarily dazzled by him was perfectly understandable. His charm was simply impossible to resist.

And yet… a person like this would eventually vanish without a trace from the pages of history.

At that thought, the light in Rong Qian’s eyes dimmed. What exactly was going to happen to Shen Yi?

Was he really going to… die?

Shen Yi had a thing about cleanliness. Once breakfast was ready, he immediately went to wash the pan. He had just brought it to the faucet to rinse when he was about to tell Rong Qian to take breakfast out — and in that moment, he glanced up and saw her.

Shen Yi suddenly panicked and dropped the pan with a clatter.

The loud clang snapped Rong Qian out of her low mood. She looked at him, puzzled.

“Why are you crying?” Shen Yi’s voice was unmistakably tense.

Rong Qian froze. Was she crying? She raised a hand and wiped her eye — it was wet. She really was crying.

How had that happened?

She hastily wiped away her tears and smiled at him. “It’s nothing — the oil splattered on me earlier. It stung so much my eyes watered.”

“Let me see.” Shen Yi said, reaching for her hand to check. And sure enough, there were a few small red marks where hot oil had spattered on her.

Shen Yi’s brow furrowed. “I’ll go get the burn ointment.”

“It’s fine, it’ll be better in a moment.” Rong Qian stopped him. It had only been an excuse she’d made up on the spot — if he hadn’t checked, she wouldn’t even have known the oil had gotten her.

Shen Yi fixed her with a searching look. “Was it really the oil that made you cry?”

“Yes! You might not know this, but I am absolutely terrified of pain!” Rong Qian said with great conviction. Shen Yi’s frown remained, and he looked at her and said, “Doesn’t it hurt when you fight?”

Rong Qian knew exactly what he was referring to. She deflected with a laugh. “Getting hit and doing the hitting are completely different things. The reason I trained so hard was precisely because I’m afraid of pain — so I’d never be the one getting hit. And besides, what I did wasn’t really fighting. It’s called lawful self-defense!”

Shen Yi was quiet for a moment. Then, after a pause, he said, “From now on, if you want to eat something, just tell me. You don’t need to cook yourself.”

“It wasn’t about what I wanted to eat. I wanted to make it for you.”

Rong Qian said it plainly, without thinking twice. There was nothing wrong with saying it as far as she was concerned — but Shen Yi’s ears went red, and no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, the corners of his mouth curved up in a smile he couldn’t quite hide.

“Either way,” he said, schooling his expression back to something neutral, “you should probably stay out of the kitchen from now on.”

Rong Qian smiled. “Is that because you’re worried I’ll get burned by the oil again?”

“I’m afraid you’ll cry.”

Shen Yi held her gaze, and those three words came out almost before he could stop them.

Rong Qian blinked. Goodness — she’d nearly fallen for that!

In the end, Shen Yi still applied the burn ointment for her.

“That time Lu Xuan carried you to the hospital in the middle of the night — that was because one of your headaches came on, wasn’t it?”

After breakfast, Rong Qian stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Shen Yi was focused on washing the dishes, head down, not looking up — but when he heard her question, he replied, “More or less.”

“Such stubbornness.” Rong Qian laughed softly and shook her head. This proud, tight-lipped boy. “I heard from him that your school has a twenty-day break for Christmas. Does your holiday start today?”

America was different from back home — there was no summer vacation or winter break in the traditional sense. Most universities had three months off in April, May, and June, plus twenty days off for Christmas.

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any plans for these twenty days?”

Shen Yi finished rinsing the last dish and turned to look at her. She was leaning against the doorframe, eating an apple. She loved apples — especially the kind that made a crisp crunch when you bit into them.

She’d once mentioned that biting into an apple helped her concentrate. Her colleagues back home all relied on cigarettes to stay sharp, but she disliked the smell of smoke, and it wasn’t healthy either.

Shen Yi rarely heard her talk about herself. When she’d said that, he had immediately asked whether her colleagues were also time travelers — and she had casually changed the subject to avoid answering.

Shen Yi was deeply curious about who she really was, but Rong Qian always managed to cut him off before he could ask — with an excuse, or by suddenly doing something else. After a while, Shen Yi stopped asking.

“Is there something on my face?” Noticing he had gone quiet while staring at her, Rong Qian instinctively touched her cheek.

Shen Yi shook his head and was about to say something when urgent knocking at the front door interrupted them.

The two exchanged a glance. To be safe, Rong Qian was about to go hide — when she heard the person at the door calling out anxiously: “Shen Yi! Are you home?”

That voice — it was Lu Xuan!

Shen Yi went to open the door, and Rong Qian followed behind him. The door swung open to reveal Lu Xuan, out of breath and covered in sweat. “Shen Yi, have you seen Shiyi? Has she come by here?”

Shen Yi shook his head. “No.”

“Chen Shiyi? What happened to her?” Rong Qian asked with concern.

Lu Xuan had been in a frantic state the entire way here, his heart tied in knots with worry. But at the sight of Shen Yi and Rong Qian — composed and calm — he felt, inexplicably, as if he’d found something to lean on. He instinctively wanted to rely on them.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to settle down. “She didn’t come back to her dorm at all last night. Her roommate said she left campus alone yesterday afternoon and never came back.”

Rong Qian glanced at Shen Yi, then beckoned Lu Xuan inside, gesturing for him to sit down and explain properly.

According to Lu Xuan, Chen Shiyi had told him a few days earlier that she had found a part-time job and was going for an interview in a couple of days.

Yesterday afternoon, she had left campus to go to that interview.

And then — nothing.

Lu Xuan was now full of regret for not having asked what job it was or where the interview was being held. At the time, Chen Shiyi had kept it a secret, saying she wanted to give him a surprise — and Lu Xuan hadn’t pressed for details.

Looking back now, Lu Xuan berated himself for being so careless, for letting a young woman go off alone to an unfamiliar place without a second thought.

What if she’d been scammed? What if she’d been drugged — what if she’d been sold?

The more he thought about it, the more frantic he became. He couldn’t stop himself from raising a hand to slap himself — but Shen Yi moved quickly and caught his arm before he could follow through.

“I went to the police this morning, but they said she hasn’t been missing for twenty-four hours yet — not enough to open a missing persons case. They told me to keep looking.” Lu Xuan was equal parts frustrated and guilt-ridden, his emotions a tangle of anxiety and agitation. He had been pushed to his breaking point.

Rong Qian, however, was perfectly calm.

Missing persons cases were the most common thing at the precinct. Compared to those who came in to report someone missing after several months, someone like Lu Xuan — coming in before twenty-four hours had even passed — was already doing remarkably well. It would also be of great help to any investigation.

Still, even if the American authorities wouldn’t open a case, she — Rong Qian, criminal investigator — was no decorative figurine to be left sitting on a shelf.