Rong Qian had made a “fatal” mistake.

It left her stone-faced for the entire drive back, lips pressed flat in a hard, unbroken line, her expression severe and unapproachable.

In that moment, with no time to think, Rong Qian had pulled her trigger first — before the gunman could fire.

The man took the bullet in the chest and went down.

A dead silence fell over the scene. Everyone stared at her in horror, the woman who had just shot a man. Rong Qian simply, calmly, put the gun away.

She hadn’t killed him. If he received emergency treatment in time, he would survive. And Shen Yi was unharmed.

Chen Shiyi had been pulled to safety by Lu Xuan. By every measure, the rescue had gone well — Lin Feng and the others had only come away with minor scrapes, nothing that a bit of medicine wouldn’t fix.

So why was Rong Qian in a bad mood?

Because she had fired her gun.

Her pistol was now one round short. When she got back, how was she supposed to explain that in her report? Was she meant to write that she had left a bullet behind in 1972 America?

There was absolutely no way she could submit a report like that.

Miserable. Just thinking about it made her face crumple in distress — on the verge of tears, yet unable to cry. That report was going to be a nightmare to write.

What Rong Qian experienced as misery, however, looked entirely different from Shen Yi’s perspective — it looked like fear.

Shen Yi’s expression was dark as well. After getting into the car, he sat with his head lowered and his fists clenched tight. The look on Rong Qian’s face when she fired the shot refused to leave his mind.

She must have been so frightened in that moment.

To save him, she had fired a gun for the very first time, taken a man’s life — and then forced herself to appear calm in front of everyone so they wouldn’t worry. The more Shen Yi thought about it, the heavier his chest felt.

“Come inside. Shen Yi’s room has all kinds of medicine — if you’re hurt, go get treated. If you’re fine, come to the kitchen and help. We’ve been running around all day and haven’t eaten a thing — let’s all just have a simple meal together.”

At six in the evening, Rong Qian drove back to Saint Rue Street. She changed her shoes at the entrance and walked in as if it were her own home, waving them all inside without ceremony.

Lin Feng and Jessie both had wounds that needed tending. Chen Shiyi helped treat them, while Lu Xuan went to the kitchen to assist Shen Yi.

As for Rong Qian — after a day of exhaustion, she flopped onto the sofa the moment she was back and had no desire to move.

Besides, she had wanted to help cook, but a certain someone wouldn’t let her near the kitchen.

Half-lidded, Rong Qian observed Chen Shiyi. On the surface she seemed calm, but the trembling in her hands as she helped with the first aid gave away the fear still lurking beneath.

Rong Qian walked over and patted her on the head. “It’s over now. Just be more careful from now on, and don’t go anywhere alone — always let the rest of us know where you’re going. Understood?”

At those words, Chen Shiyi’s tears finally broke free and spilled over.

Chen Shiyi threw her arms around Rong Qian all at once, burying her face in her shoulder, and began to cry. Between sobs she managed, “I was so scared… I was so, so scared…”

“It’s over, it’s over — don’t be afraid. Let it out.” Rong Qian patted her back gently.

Lin Feng and Jessie watched the two of them, and after a long moment, a starry-eyed Jessie murmured, “I’m so envious.”

Lin Feng shot him a look of pure disdain.

Though he was envious too. He just wasn’t going to say it.

Lu Xuan stood in the kitchen doorway, a green onion in his hand, poking his head out to watch. The sight warmed his heart.

He walked over to Shen Yi and said, “Your sister is so gentle. And yet she stays so calm under pressure — and she’s incredibly capable.”

He paused, then studied Shen Yi’s expression carefully before asking with a certain delicacy, “Shen Yi, what does your sister actually do? How does she have a…”

“Don’t ask.” That was Shen Yi’s only response.

Lu Xuan nodded. He wouldn’t push where he wasn’t wanted. If someone didn’t want to say something, he wouldn’t pry.

“One more thing.” Shen Yi looked up at him, his voice low and steady. “She’s not my sister.”

Once Rong Qian had comforted Chen Shiyi, she headed for the kitchen to check whether dinner was ready — and found only Lu Xuan there. Shen Yi was nowhere to be seen.

She walked over and asked, “Where’s Shen Yi?”

“He said he needed some air. He told me he’d handle the rest here — it’s almost done.” Lu Xuan ladled a finished plate of stir-fried pork with chili peppers.

Rong Qian breathed in the aroma, remarked that it smelled wonderful, and then went to find Shen Yi.

Shen Yi was alone in the stairwell. The hallway light only turned on automatically at seven, so the entire staircase was still dim at this hour. He sat there in the quiet, as if becoming one with the shadows.

“What are you doing in here?”

Rong Qian’s bright voice broke through the somber stillness.

At the same moment, the hallway light came on. Shen Yi looked up — and there was Rong Qian, leaning over the stair railing, smiling down at him. Her eyes held something like starlight; when she smiled, she was radiant.

“Did you hurt your hand?”

She noticed some scraped skin across his knuckles. Rong Qian dug a bandage out of her pocket, walked over and sat beside him, and pressed it gently into place.

Once it was done, she looked up and began, “If you’re hurt, just say so — stop bottling every—”

She didn’t finish. Shen Yi pulled her into a hug.

Rong Qian went wide-eyed with shock, but Shen Yi let go almost immediately. It was brief, barely even contact — the kind of hug that might have been meant as encouragement.

No one knew what it cost Shen Yi to hold back in that moment.

“You—”

“Let’s go back inside.” Shen Yi stood before she could get another word out.

Rong Qian blinked. What had gotten into this kid all of a sudden? Had the scare left him shaken enough that he was hugging her for comfort?

She had expected the dinner to be a subdued and sobering affair — but apparently she had underestimated youth’s capacity for resilience.

When the shock wore off and the exhilaration of what they had pulled off that day began to set in, the energy at the table took a sharp turn upward.

Lin Feng had even gone out and come back with a crate of beer, declaring that no one was leaving sober, and enthusiastically pouring for everyone.

When he got to Shen Yi, Rong Qian stopped him with a smile. “He’s a minor. No alcohol.”

So Shen Yi sat alone with his fruit juice while Rong Qian and the others — all legal adults over eighteen — drank cheerfully.

Then Rong Qian proceeded to drink every single one of them under the table.

She laughed softly and shook her head. Youth. That was a very modest tolerance for alcohol.

Shen Yi had long since finished eating, and sat to one side reading quietly. Watching him, Rong Qian noticed that he hadn’t really changed much from when he was small.

At twelve, he had sat just like this — still and absorbed in a book. She could already picture it so clearly: the composed, mature version of him years from now, settled in a corner of a sofa with a book.

“Can I ask you something?” Rong Qian said.

Shen Yi set down his book and looked at her.

“If I hadn’t found Chen Shiyi’s location,” she said, “were you going to ask your father for help?”

Shen Yi lowered his gaze. After a long pause, he said, “Yes. I don’t want to admit it, but with his influence, the police wouldn’t dare ignore him.”

“But he wouldn’t help you unconditionally. The moment you went to him, you’d have to start making compromises.” It was simple enough logic — Rong Qian understood it, and Shen Yi understood it far better.

Shen Yi said nothing. Evidently, he had already prepared himself for that possibility. The thought had come to him while they were still in the car.

Rong Qian took a sip of her beer, and her gaze gradually drifted and softened with memory. She recalled that day — meeting with Shen Chi, and what she had said to him.

Strictly speaking, it was Rong Qian who had proposed a “deal” to him.

And that deal concerned what lay ahead for Shen Yi…