“Mr. He, what do you make of him?”

Outside, once they’d left the villa, the assistant asked He Jicheng for his impressions of this Shen Yi they’d heard so much about.

He Jicheng didn’t answer. The warmth had completely vanished from his face — he was an entirely different man from moments ago.

After they’d gotten into the car, He Jicheng sat with a casual arrogance, one leg crossed over the other. He tugged at his tie, a cold, sinister gleam in his eyes, and gave a cold smile: “This Shen Yi is essentially what I expected. The outside world hasn’t exaggerated his reputation.”

“It’s just a pity — he’s still too young. At this stage, he poses no threat to me.” He Jicheng paused, a calculating look gradually settling into his gaze. “Though that woman gave me pause.”

“The one surnamed Rong? The woman from the mainland?” The assistant looked confused. He couldn’t see anything particularly remarkable about her.

He Jicheng could tell what the assistant was thinking and gave him a contemptuous look. “If you could see what makes her remarkable, would you still be a mere assistant?”

The assistant lowered his head in shame. He had overestimated himself.

He Jicheng pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. The assistant, seeing this, quickly produced a lighter and lit it for him.

After taking a slow drag, He Jicheng said with an air of unhurried satisfaction: “In my eyes, women fall into two categories: those with money and those without. The wealthy ones are unreasonable, carrying themselves like spoiled princesses. The poor ones pull out every trick to reel you in — greedy, vain, utterly common.”

“Then Miss Rong belongs to…?” The assistant no longer dared to venture a guess.

He Jicheng gave him a sidelong glance. “She belongs to neither. Which is precisely why I said she’s unusual.”

“Despite clearly being kept, there’s something upright about her — a kind of integrity. How to put it…” He Jicheng turned the thought over in his mind, and finally landed on it: “She reminds me of a police officer.”

“Achoo!”

On the other side of the city, Rong Qian suddenly sneezed. She rubbed her nose and muttered: “Who’s talking behind my back?”

No sooner had the words left her lips than Shen Yi’s hand reached over and rested on her forehead. “Good. No fever.”

“Relax, I’m perfectly healthy,” Rong Qian said with a proud tilt of her chin. Then she remembered: “Oh right — where were we?”

Shen Yi reminded her: “You were about to tell me about He Jicheng.”

“Right, I was going to tell you about him.” Rong Qian recalled she’d pulled him into her room for exactly that reason.

She wasn’t sure whether this counted as revealing history, but she figured telling him shouldn’t be a problem.

But before she could even open her mouth, Shen Yi said: “This He Jicheng — his ambitions are far from small.”

“How do you know?” Rong Qian was surprised. She hadn’t even said anything yet, and he already knew?

Shen Yi just smiled and said nothing, giving her a meaningful look. Rong Qian had an inexplicable feeling of being goaded.

“Fine, fine, you’re clever, I’ll admit it.” Rong Qian complimented him very reluctantly.

Shen Yi’s eyes curved with a smile. “Thank you for the praise, my dear A’Qian.”

“Your relationship with Yao Zhengxing must be fairly good.”

Rong Qian said this out of nowhere. Shen Yi was quite curious. “What makes you say that?”

“Because if the relationship were poor, you wouldn’t have gone to his funeral.”

Shen Yi went still.

This was an article Rong Qian had come across in the newspapers concerning Shen Yi. The headline had read clearly: Gambling King Yao Zhengxing Dies Under Mysterious Circumstances — Thousands Attend Funeral — Rising Star Wei Long Makes Low-key Appearance to Lay Flowers at the Graveside, Drawing Wide Attention.

In the media, Shen Yi had always been synonymous with a low profile and mystery. He had no scandals, no rumors, and rarely attended public events.

So whenever there was news of him, the media covered it extensively.

Rong Qian had said she knew how long everyone had left to live, and that was the truth — including Yao Na. That girl’s ending had also been deeply saddening to read about.

“He Jicheng ends up as the final victor. Everything Yao Zhengxing owns ultimately falls into his hands.” Rong Qian’s lips pressed together, and for once, there was a rare trace of gravity in her expression. “He Jicheng’s father and Yao Zhengxing were close brothers. After his father died, Yao Zhengxing took He Jicheng in as his adopted son — without changing his surname.”

“But He Jicheng has always believed his father was killed by Yao Zhengxing. Over the years, as Yao Zhengxing aged and handed the casino operations over to He Jicheng, He Jicheng has been quietly making moves behind the scenes.”

Upon hearing this, Shen Yi wanted to know one thing: “Was Yao Zhengxing’s death connected to him?”

“Yes.” Rong Qian gave a definitive answer.

Shen Yi stroked his jaw, deep in thought. This was the first time he’d learned about someone else’s fate.

“If He Jicheng could orchestrate an accidental death for Yao Zhengxing, then Yao Na — as his sole heir — is someone He Jicheng would never allow to live,” Shen Yi reasoned.

Rong Qian found it quite impressive that his mind leapt that far. She suddenly realized that if he had gone into law enforcement, his investigative instincts would be no less sharp than her own.

“She was kidnapped. The abductors demanded a ransom of two hundred million. Yao Zhengxing paid. But the kidnappers broke their word.” At the memory of the accompanying photograph in the newspaper, Rong Qian couldn’t bear it and shut her eyes.

Those abductors had violated and murdered her. Yao Na — that poor girl — had died a truly wrongful death…

“So some also said that Yao Zhengxing chose to take his own life out of grief after losing his beloved daughter. That narrative was clearly designed to rehabilitate He Jicheng’s image after he inherited the estate.”

Shen Yi thought for a moment and asked: “Is there any evidence?”

“Unfortunately, no.” The reason Rong Qian was so certain He Jicheng was involved was that all of these truths only came to light after He Jicheng himself died.

As long as he was alive, no one would ever know the truth.

Finally, regarding that evening’s invitation from Yao Zhengxing, Rong Qian gave Shen Yi her conclusion: “Yao Zhengxing’s reason for inviting you is to assess your character — to see whether you’re worth building a deeper relationship with. He almost certainly has the idea of marrying his daughter off to you, but if you refuse firmly, he won’t force you.”

“So tonight is actually quite crucial. Whether or not you earn his respect depends entirely on how you carry yourself this evening.”

Rong Qian gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. The heavens have placed a great burden upon this person — Shen Yi, your road ahead is heavy with responsibility.

Shen Yi looked into her eyes, then suddenly asked: “A’Qian, tell me — can history be changed?”

Rong Qian froze. Can history be changed? She didn’t know either…

But she knew this: once history was changed, the consequences could be unimaginable.

That thought sent a sudden wave of confusion washing over her.

If history couldn’t be changed, then what was she doing here? Why had she gone through so much hardship to find him?

Rong Qian panicked — because she realized she had never once contemplated letting him die.