When Meng Yuxin learned early that morning that Shen Yi was returning to the Shen family home, her expression turned ugly.

She had gone to such lengths to drive him away — and now he was coming back? Did that mean all her effort had been for nothing?

The last time she had personally gone to find Shen Yi, the whole thing had turned into an embarrassing mess. When she came back afterward, she had sent people to investigate again — but strangely, the address had not been wrong. It was indeed Number 17, Sheng Luo Street, Apartment 302.

But asking her to make another trip herself — Meng Yuxin flatly refused. She had reported the situation honestly to Shen Chi, and Shen Chi had told her it wasn’t necessary.

At the time, she had assumed he simply didn’t want that son of his to come back, and had felt rather pleased about it for a few days.

She hadn’t expected Shen Yi to pull off such a turnaround.

Well then. Since Shen Chi wasn’t home at the moment, Meng Yuxin intended to give Shen Yi a proper talking-to, and hopefully goad him into leaving before Shen Chi even returned.

On the other side of things, after watching Shen Yi’s car pull away and disappear, Rong Qian turned around — and found both Chen Shiyi and Lu Xuan wearing expressions of total shock. She found that rather amusing.

Lu Xuan swallowed and said to Rong Qian, “You knew all along he wasn’t an ordinary person?”

“Is that so remarkable?” Rong Qian didn’t see what was worth discussing.

Lu Xuan shook his head. “No, it’s just — a bit unexpected. So it turns out Shen Yi isn’t what we thought. He’s not short on money either. He was just experiencing life for himself.”

Hearing that, Rong Qian frowned slightly, a hint of displeasure crossing her face. “You think he moved out on his own and built an independent life just to ‘experience’ things?”

“Isn’t that what it is?” Lu Xuan hadn’t thought much more of it than that.

Rong Qian gave a self-deprecating smile, a trace of something cold passing through her eyes. “He was escaping.”

Chen Shiyi and Lu Xuan exchanged a glance. Escaping? What did that mean?

Rong Qian hadn’t told them much about Shen Yi’s past, but from the few things she had said, both Chen Shiyi and Lu Xuan could sense that life in that family had not been good for Shen Yi.

More than not good — it could be said he had been put through something close to torment.

It was only now that the two of them realized how suffocating Shen Yi’s previous life had been. Anyone in his place would have wanted to escape.

It had to be said that what Rong Qian shared gave them an entirely new understanding of Shen Yi — not distancing them from him because of his background, but drawing them closer.

As she spoke, Rong Qian thought of the fact that she might not have much time left here. She looked at Chen Shiyi and Lu Xuan, and decided to leave them with a few instructions. “I’ll probably be leaving in a few days. I’d like to ask a favor of you both — pay more attention to Shen Yi, especially what happens to him in the future. This is very important.”

Rong Qian wasn’t sure if this counted as altering history, but it was the only way she could think of right now.

As long as they knew what had happened to Shen Yi in the years ahead, once she returned through time, she could come find them and ask — and she’d have her answers.

She might even be able to find out who had been attacking her.

But when Chen Shiyi and Lu Xuan heard this, their immediate reaction was to ask where she was going. Rong Qian had no choice but to say she was returning to China. The two were reluctant to let her go, but they knew this kind of thing couldn’t be stopped.

Lu Xuan asked, “Does Shen Yi know?”

“Not yet. Don’t tell him either — when the time comes, I’ll tell him myself.”

Lu Xuan nodded to show he understood.

Of course, this wasn’t Rong Qian’s main point. She impressed upon them with gravity: “Whatever happens to Shen Yi in the years ahead — you must pay close attention. The more detail the better. For example, who his enemies will be, who will oppose him. And above all, the most important thing.”

Rong Qian took a slow breath and emphasized: “In 1988 — the year Shen Yi turns thirty-two — what happens to him? Why does he disappear at sea?”

“Rong Qian, what — what are you talking about?” Lu Xuan was utterly bewildered. The more she said, the stranger it got.

Rong Qian wasn’t joking. Her expression remained grave throughout: “It’s 1972 right now. Forty-eight years from now, I’ll come find you, and I need you to tell me everything about what happened to Shen Yi back then. When that time comes, you must tell me every detail.”

Forty-eight years from now? By then they’d all be little old men and women, wouldn’t they?

Rong Qian sat down as she spoke, wrote something on a sheet of paper — a point in time and an address — then sealed it into an envelope and handed it to Lu Xuan.

“This envelope and the paper inside — keep it safe. It’s best if you memorize it as well. I’m only writing it down in case you forget.”

Lu Xuan took it. He suddenly felt slightly dizzy — as if a great deal of information had been poured into his head all at once. He asked Rong Qian: “What did you write?”

Rong Qian didn’t hide it. “I wrote the time I’ll come looking for you forty-eight years from now, and the address where you’ll be.”

“How do you know where we’ll be after all that time?” Lu Xuan asked instinctively. A strange feeling was rising in him, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint what was odd.

But Rong Qian wasn’t about to let him press any further: “I just know. Don’t ask.”

Lu Xuan and Chen Shiyi looked at each other, then stared at the envelope in their hands, both sinking into thought.

“I’m not joking with you.” Rong Qian looked both of them directly in the eyes, her expression unusually solemn, afraid they’d dismiss this or forget it the moment they turned away.

“This is serious. It concerns not only the whole of Shen Yi’s life, but also my own safety. So you must remember everything that happens to Shen Yi over the next several decades.”

In the car, Shen Yi — who had been resting with his eyes closed — suddenly opened them.

“Young Master, is something wrong?” Fu Bozhong had been watching him carefully, and seeing him open his eyes so abruptly, immediately asked with concern.

Shen Yi shook his head. “Nothing.” Just a sudden, uncomfortable feeling in his chest, that was all.

Shen Yi looked out the car window. The familiar streets told him he was drawing closer and closer to that manor.

Fu Bozhong assumed he had reservations about going back, and patted his shoulder in comfort. “Young Master, even if you hadn’t returned on your own, the Master would have had you brought back eventually.”

Shen Yi said nothing.

Knowing he didn’t want to hear such things, Fu Bozhong changed the subject. “Has Miss Rong been here long?”

“Not too long. Less than a month.” Sure enough, the moment Rong Qian was mentioned, Shen Yi became more talkative.

Fu Bozhong smiled. “She hasn’t changed at all. It really is extraordinary.”

“By the time I’m eighty or ninety years old, she’ll still look exactly the same. She’ll never change.”

Fu Bozhong paused. He turned to look at Shen Yi and saw him lower his gaze, concealing the trace of quiet desolation in his eyes.

Fu Bozhong suddenly realized that he had, once again, said the wrong thing.

Meng Yuxin had been waiting in the sitting room. When she saw Shen Yi walk in, she put on a performance — a simpering, feigned delight — and moved forward to greet him with exaggerated warmth.

Shen Yi wore an expression of cold indifference throughout. He didn’t say a word. When Meng Yuxin tried to touch him, he stepped aside and avoided her.

Meng Yuxin didn’t particularly mind — after all, the show she was putting on was for the benefit of the other people watching.

After she had dismissed the servants and bodyguards, Meng Yuxin dropped the act and put on her mistress-of-the-house demeanor, looking at Shen Yi with unconcealed disdain: “You left with such fine words back then — why are you back now? Let me guess: you ran out of money?”

“Madam, please mind yourself.” Fu Bozhong’s face was stony as he cautioned her.

Meng Yuxin was displeased. “The mistress of this house is speaking — since when does a butler have any business interrupting?”

Fu Bozhong fell silent.

Meng Yuxin was feeling rather pleased with herself — until she turned and met the full force of Shen Yi’s gaze. It was the same look Shen Chi wore when he was furious, and it was identical now on Shen Yi. Meng Yuxin was alarmed enough to rein herself in.

This wretched child — how could he look so much like his father?

“Mummy, is that big brother who came back?”

Just then, a small boy came bounding down the stairs. He was dressed in a neat little suit and leather shoes, but his skin was deeply tanned, making him look rather like a country child who had stolen the clothes off a rich boy’s back.

He walked with a springing, bouncing step, full of energy.

“Xiao Ran, you’re up so early today! Come here, let Mummy hold you.”

At the sight of her darling son, Meng Yuxin waved him over, completely ignoring what he had just said.

Shen Feng Ran walked to Meng Yuxin’s side, but his eyes kept drifting toward Shen Yi. Ever since the first day Shen Yi had come, he had thought this big brother of his was extraordinarily good-looking.

Meng Yuxin hugged her son, then looked up at Shen Yi — and found the sight of him grating.

Though the two boys were only a few years apart, standing together, the difference was immediately and starkly apparent. They were worlds apart.

The fact that her son wasn’t as handsome as Shen Yi had always been a sore spot for Meng Yuxin.

Her son was being raised freely, spending his days running around in rubbish heaps with a bunch of urchins — there wasn’t a trace of aristocratic bearing about him.

Before there had been no comparison, she hadn’t noticed it so keenly. But with this side-by-side, her son looked all the worse for it.