“What do you mean, you don’t recognize me? When have I ever not recognized you?”

Qiaoqiao looked utterly bewildered.

Jiu’er’s words were far too strange.

“And what’s this about Qiao Mu and Xiao Yingtao? Are you craving cherries or something? I didn’t bring any, and you can’t even buy fresh fruit out here.”

Zhen Jiu’er said nothing, only stared into her eyes, sinking into deep thought.

If it weren’t for Lu Qihong’s appearance, she might have still been able to tell herself it was all just coincidence.

Young Master Jiu was the Ninth Imperial Uncle, but his face was different, and the past had been completely forgotten.

If she hadn’t known the Ninth Imperial Uncle so thoroughly, even she wouldn’t have been certain.

But the deeper she got to know Young Master Jiu, the more she could tell — he truly was the Ninth Imperial Uncle.

Even the feeling of being held by him was exactly the same.

And Lu Feifan — he had everything of Mu Mu’s: his appearance, his mannerisms, his habits, even every expression on his face, every subconscious reaction.

He was, unmistakably, Mu Mu.

But like the Ninth Imperial Uncle, he retained not a single memory of his past life.

And then there was Qiao Mu’s face and Xiao Yingtao’s personality — this Qiaoqiao in front of her was a fusion of the two of them.

Up until today, she had still been able to more or less accept it, to convince herself it was coincidence.

A coincidence born of fate carrying over from one life to the next.

She had found them again.

But after meeting Lu Qihong, an unease had settled deep in Jiu’er’s heart.

A deep, profound fear.

This was no coincidence.

He was Feng Qiongcang!

What was terrifying was that she seemed to sense that Feng Qiongcang was still Feng Qiongcang — that he knew everything!

Those eyes, tinged with bloodthirsty killing intent, had been smiling the whole time, yet murderous intent stirred within them all the same.

Even though she had put on a show of knowing nothing in front of him, deep down, Jiu’er had no confidence at all.

He must know something. She was certain of it.

Why were all these people converging in this particular point in time and space?

And exactly what kind of time and space was this, anyway?

If this was supposed to be the twenty-first century, then why had her old unit simply vanished without a trace?

Before coming to Ying’an City, she had searched for related information, even tried to reach people she used to know.

But there was nothing. Nothing at all.

Not a single trace of news about any of them.

In the end, Jiu’er could only draw one conclusion: this twenty-first century was not the same twenty-first century she had once lived in.

So then — what kind of time and space was this?

Why was it that, in this particular world, there happened to be a Ninth Imperial Uncle, a Mu Mu, a fusion of Qiao Mu and Xiao Yingtao, and even a Feng Qiongcang?

Jiu’er felt as though her head were about to explode!

Her thoughts were a complete mess!

Her mind was in chaos, and so was her heart.

“Jiu’er, Jiu’er?” Qiaoqiao suddenly gave her a push.

Jiu’er jumped, startled, and snapped back to herself. “What is it?”

“I should be asking you that. What were you even thinking about, so deep in thought like that?”

“It’s nothing. I was just… thinking about that Third Master of the Lu family.” Jiu’er casually changed the subject.

Sure enough, the moment Qiaoqiao heard this, she perked right up.

“That Third Master… wow, he’s really something, isn’t he? Like some kind of ancient emperor, you know? Wherever he goes, it’s like a gust of wind sweeps through — honestly no different from a real emperor.”

“Oh, and I heard he’s already forty-eight, but he looks like he’s only in his early thirties — barely older-looking than Young Master Jiu. It’s incredible, really — I have no idea how he takes care of himself.”

“And there’s more, there’s more… ugh, Jiu’er, why did you just walk off, I wasn’t even done talking! Jiu’er, Jiu’er, wait for me…”