At seven o’clock in the morning, Shen Yi came home.

Rong Qian stood at the doorway, watching the cars pull up outside. The driver was first out, umbrella raised, stepping around to open the rear door — carefully shielding whoever was inside from the rain.

Rong Qian watched Shen Yi step out, accept the black long-handled umbrella from the driver, and start toward her.

The moment she saw him — safe, unharmed — the weight she had been carrying all night finally settled.

“Were you waiting for me?”

Shen Yi held the umbrella low as he walked, its canopy angled down. Only when he drew close did he lift it, and there in the fine, whispering rain, he smiled at her — soft and warm.

He was dressed in a black suit, one hand tucked into his pocket, his eyes resting on her with a gentle, lingering gaze. In that moment, Rong Qian’s heartbeat distinctly skipped.

This man was far too good at casting a spell over people.

Rong Qian was just about to say something when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a teenage boy walking in through the rain. Unlike Shen Yi — composed and unhurried — this boy was soaked through, water dripping from the hair plastered to his forehead, a school bag still slung over one shoulder.

The moment she saw him, the name left her lips before she’d thought about it: “Lin Feng?”

The boy heard, glanced up at her briefly, then lowered his head and walked on past, deliberately keeping his distance as he went by.

Shen Yi closed the umbrella and came to stand beside her. “He is Lin Jie.”

“Lin Feng’s younger brother? No wonder — those two look incredibly alike!” Rong Qian was genuinely surprised. Then, a beat later, she caught herself and asked Shen Yi: “Wait, that’s not right — wasn’t he still studying over in America? How is he here with you?”

“Let’s go inside first.” It was perhaps a long story. Shen Yi motioned for her to head in.

Rong Qian glanced toward the entrance. No sign of Xu Mo. “What about Xu Mo? He went to the casino to find you — you didn’t run into him?”

“…We did run into each other. He has something to take care of. He’ll be back a little later.” Shen Yi clearly hesitated for two beats before giving her that answer, along with a smile.

Rong Qian looked at him, feeling that something wasn’t quite right — but unable to say what.

Once inside the main hall, Lin Jie stopped and stood there, rooted to the spot. He didn’t sit. His whole bearing was like someone who had lost their soul.

Shen Yi asked Fu Bozhong to take him to wash up and change clothes, then come back down.

When Lin Jie heard this, he glanced over at Shen Yi.

His expression was unreadable. And though he was no more than a teenager, his entire person was wrapped in a heavy, brooding darkness. He said nothing — like someone who had forgotten how to speak.

After Fu Bozhong had taken him away, Shen Yi finally turned to Rong Qian. “I found him at the casino.”

“Don’t tell me he was there gambling.” It was only a guess, but Rong Qian already had a bad feeling it was right.

Shen Yi nodded. He sat down, poured himself a cup of hot water, and told her: “He had gambled away every last coin he had. Even after losing it all, he refused to accept it — started shouting that the croupier was cheating. If I hadn’t happened to walk by, he was about to get himself beaten to a pulp.”

“How did someone who’s supposed to be in America end up gambling at Yao Zhengxing’s casino?” Rong Qian was genuinely puzzled.

At that, Shen Yi let out a quiet sigh. “I only just found out myself. He developed a gambling habit six months ago. Stopped going to school entirely — just started drifting around the world with a crowd of wealthy, idle young men with nothing better to do.”

“Apparently, he dropped my name — told them I was his older brother — and that’s how they let him into their circle.” Something in Shen Yi’s eyes spoke plainly of his disappointment in Lin Jie.

Hearing this, and recalling the look Lin Jie had given Shen Yi just now, Rong Qian felt as though she were beginning to sense something beneath the surface.

Still — Lin Jie was only a side issue. The real matter was Thomas. Had there been any progress in tracking him down?

“I’ve already spoken to Yao, and showed him the photograph of Thomas. I asked him to keep an eye out for this person going forward. Yao was a man of his word — that very night, he had the entire casino searched. Unfortunately, by then, Thomas was already gone.”

Hearing this, Rong Qian was fairly certain that this was not yet the moment when Shen Yi would come under attack.

But Thomas’s appearance had sounded a warning in her mind. There was a strong possibility that Thomas had already seen Shen Yi at the casino.

And that he had already begun to lay his plans for retribution.

Whatever Rong Qian was turning over in her mind, Shen Yi seemed to give it little thought.

He gave a lazy yawn and rubbed his eyes. “After a night of running around, I’m somewhat tired. A’Qian — I’m going to sleep for a while. If anything comes up, come and get me, alright?”

“Of course — go and sleep.” Rong Qian began to usher him along.

Before he went up, he paused to say: “You haven’t slept all night either, have you? If you’re tired, go ahead and rest.”

“I know, I know, now go, go!” Rong Qian waved him off.

Once Shen Yi had gone upstairs and back to his room, Rong Qian turned — and only then noticed his suit jacket on the sofa.

This was the jacket he had draped over her in the car that night.

And he had left without taking it.

The thought made her pause. Wait — before he came home, why had he made a point of changing his clothes?

Had he been caught in the rain, and not wanted her to see him looking disheveled?

Or was there some other reason?

In his room, Shen Yi closed the door and turned the lock behind him.

He walked to the mirror, took off his jacket, and began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

When the white shirt came off, Shen Yi turned sideways — and in the mirror, he could see his lower back covered in a large, dark bruise, already swollen and pooled with blood beneath the skin.

Across his back were also several raw scrapes — wounds that had already stopped bleeding, the dried blood stark against his fair skin, each one an arresting sight.

When the shirt came away, the fabric pulled at the wounds and sent a sharp sting through him. But Shen Yi only furrowed his brow.

This trip had not been without harm. Quite the contrary — he had been in a car accident.

He had delayed coming home until now so Rong Qian wouldn’t worry.