Rong Qian had traveled through time again.

And not just through time — she had traveled to the side of a twelve-year-old Shen Yi, in 1968, in the United States of America. Arriving at that conclusion, Rong Qian felt like curling up into a ball.

Well, traveling through time and space was one thing, but crossing international borders on top of it — she hadn’t even needed to go through customs!

No, wait — that wasn’t the point.

Rong Qian rubbed her throbbing head. She sat on the floor, arms folded, expression grave, and began to think it through. Based on what she’d learned from her last experience, if she wanted to return, she needed to have that same photograph — the one that had brought her here — taken again.

Shen Shuhuai had told her that the piano in the photograph was the one in Shen Yi’s room. Rong Qian’s gaze landed on the piano. That was correct — this was the very same piano.

As long as she recreated the same pose as in the photograph, when the butler Fu took a picture of her with his camera, she would be able to return!

This wasn’t so complicated, was it? With that thought, Rong Qian quickly asked young Shen Yi, “Little buddy, let me ask you — do you know someone called Butler Fu?”

He said nothing, giving no response.

Rong Qian adopted the cajoling tone one uses to coax children in kindergarten, patiently and gently prompting, “Little buddy, don’t be scared. I’m not a bad person. Tell your big sister — do you know a butler with the surname Fu?”

“Do you think I’m a three-year-old?” the boy across from her finally spoke.

Rong Qian was struck speechless by his reply. Looking at that cold, disdainful expression, it was genuinely difficult for her to connect this child to the grown-up Shen Yi she had met the first time.

He grew up to be so gentle and refined. Who could have guessed that as a child, he would be this aloof and standoffish?

“When did you hide in the wardrobe? Was it my father who sent you to spy on me?”

Rong Qian blinked. Spy? It was hard to imagine that word coming out of a twelve-year-old’s mouth. But she’d also gotten a measure of this child in those few exchanges — he was very sharp, with a strong sense of caution, and not easy to fool.

Wanting to ensure she could stay in his room, Rong Qian fabricated a story.

“To be completely honest with you, I am actually a —” Rong Qian assumed an air of mystery. She slowly rose to her feet, crossed her arms over her chest, lifted her chin, and declared: “A time traveler!”

The child across from her showed absolutely no reaction whatsoever.

Rong Qian suddenly went rigid. She was wondering — in 1968, had films with time-travel themes even existed? Did this child have any concept of what time travel meant?

“Felita —” He called out loudly for someone. Rong Qian lunged forward and clapped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t call out! Give me five minutes — I’ll make you believe me!”

Five minutes later.

Rong Qian, who had talked herself nearly hoarse, poured herself a cup of water and gulped it down. Then she asked him: “Well? Do you understand what time travel means now?”

Shen Yi said nothing. In truth, he had been observing her the entire time.

This person in front of him — whether it was her clothing and appearance, or her words and behavior — everything about her was strange. She was Chinese and spoke Mandarin, but she was unlike any Chinese person he was familiar with. She was… distinctly different.

And there was one more crucial point: that morning he had changed clothes from the wardrobe, then spent the rest of the time in the room practicing the piano without going out at all. The door had been locked.

In other words, she had appeared out of thin air.

Though inwardly he had already come to believe her, the young Shen Yi — already calculating beyond his years — did not let it show.

Seeing him silent, Rong Qian assumed he hadn’t understood. She straightened up, cleared her throat, and said, “That’s alright — if you didn’t follow, I’ll explain it again. It basically means —”

“What’s your name?” He cut her off.

Rong Qian paused. She hadn’t told him yet? “My name is Rong Qian. The character for ‘rong’ as in ‘easy,’ and ‘qian’ as in ‘depth.'”

“Then do you know what my name is?” he asked.

Rong Qian nodded. “I do. Your name is Shen Yi.”

“How do you know my name?” His brow furrowed, and he became guarded again.

Rong Qian had known he would ask this and had already prepared her answer. “Of course I know your name — because I came here to protect you!”

Shen Yi was momentarily taken aback. She — was here to protect him?

“Don’t worry, little buddy. I won’t harm you.” Rong Qian patted him on the shoulder. “The thing is, I can’t leave this room, and I can’t let anyone discover I’m here — because my mission is to protect you from the shadows. Can you let me stay here?”

“Why do you need to protect me?” His thinking was clear and methodical, and he wasn’t blindly trusting every word she said.

Rong Qian thought for a moment before answering, “Because the future version of you commissioned me to protect you.”

“The future me…” A flicker of something unusual passed through his eyes, and the gaze he turned on Rong Qian became, all of a sudden, rather complex.

Looking at this child, Rong Qian found herself reaching for a phrase to describe him: precocious beyond his years. Young in age, but with a great many thoughts churning beneath the surface — and very clever.

No wonder — this was someone destined to achieve such remarkable things later in life.

In the end, through Rong Qian’s silver-tongued persuasion, the child finally agreed to keep her presence secret and allowed her to stay in the room. There was, however, one unwelcome piece of news: Butler Fu had gone on a long trip and had not yet returned — when he was expected back, nobody knew for certain.

Which meant Rong Qian currently had only one option: to wait.

Shen Yi’s three meals a day were brought to the room by a Filipino maid. Whenever someone came, Rong Qian hid in the wardrobe; only after they left would she come back out.

Fortunately the portions were quite generous, and Rong Qian could share meals with him. At night she slept on the sofa. Although the room door was locked, Rong Qian was still worried someone might suddenly enter, so she didn’t sleep soundly.

Two days passed this way, and Rong Qian was already starting to go stir-crazy. The boredom — the sheer, unbearable boredom!

Over those two days, Shen Yi treated her as though she didn’t exist. He played the piano and the violin, and beyond that, he studied, read books, practiced calligraphy, and played chess. In short, he was never idle for a single moment of the day.

And whenever a tutor came to teach him, Rong Qian had to hide in the wardrobe — and each time, she’d be stuck in there for at least two hours!

Except for going to bathe, he never left the room — it was like being locked in a cage, constantly confined, with no freedom at all. The face Rong Qian saw most often was the Filipino maid called Felita, since she was the one bringing all three meals.

There was another reason Rong Qian was going stir-crazy: by her count, she had already gone three days without a bath, and without a change of clothes either. She had originally assumed she would be here two days at most, but now it was clearly not going to be that quick.

That night, Rong Qian lay on the sofa, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. She sat up, and looked at the small sleeping figure lying flat in bed — quiet and still in sleep. She walked over and gave him a nudge.

Shen Yi was a very light sleeper and woke at the slightest sound. He opened his eyes and glanced at her.

“I want to take a bath,” Rong Qian said quietly.

Shen Yi looked at the time. Midnight. The servants should all be asleep by now. He stealthily led her out to the bathroom — and this was Rong Qian’s first time outside the room.

She had already guessed from the layout of the room that this was a grand mansion, but the moment she stepped out of the door, Rong Qian realized this was no mere mansion — this was a full-blown castle!

A Western European-style castle. Rong Qian had visited similar landmarks on overseas trips, but tourist attractions only allowed you to view them from the outside. This was nothing like that — threading through the labyrinthine corridors, with young Shen Yi walking ahead, holding a candle stand to light the way, Rong Qian felt as though she had stepped into a film, utterly novel and surreal.

The bathroom was enormous. Rong Qian didn’t even dare run the bathwater too loudly. The moment she sank into the bathtub, she let out a long breath of relief. Heavenly.

Shen Yi hadn’t left. He sat outside keeping watch, crouched by the door, listening to Rong Qian humming softly inside the bathroom.

Not daring to linger too long, Rong Qian finished up quickly, wrapped herself in a bathrobe, and stepped out. Shen Yi led her back along the same route. Midway, Shen Yi suddenly noticed something, and pulled her into a corner to hide!

“What is it?” Rong Qian asked in a hushed voice.

He said nothing, only staring in the direction of a spot not far away. Rong Qian looked as well, and saw a woman in a white nightgown standing on an observation balcony, gazing out into the distance. The night outside cast its light in through the windows and fell upon her form.

Though they couldn’t see her face, her silhouette was enough to reveal that she was a great beauty.

After a long while, Rong Qian watched the woman finally walk away. As she turned, Rong Qian caught a glimpse of her face — and indeed, she was a great beauty. But she was cold and distant, with no expression, like a shell without a soul.

Rong Qian looked down at Shen Yi, and saw him staring fixedly at that woman, a trace of sorrow and grief flickering in his eyes.

This was the first time Rong Qian had seen him wear such an expression. Who was that woman to him?