Early morning…
The curtains in the bedroom hadn’t been drawn, allowing sunlight to decisively stream through the window gaps, just falling on the woman who had just managed to feel somewhat sleepy. The warm golden glow enveloped her entire body.
Shu Qianzhi irritably climbed out of bed, brushed back her hair, and walked to the window, intending to close the curtains.
The next second, her gaze fell upon a group of people preparing to leave outside.
Instantly, all drowsiness vanished. She even forgot about sleeping and immediately pushed open the window door excitedly, running out while waving and shouting toward the person surrounded by the crowd, “Good morning, brother!”
But as expected, that person didn’t even glance at her, mercilessly getting into the car and closing the door, shutting her out.
Shu Qianzhi immediately pouted, her eyebrows drooping dejectedly. Even her waving lost its energy, yet she remained standing in place, unwilling to leave—firmly believing that her efforts would eventually be noticed.
…Just definitely not now.
Amid the roaring engine sound, the black car drove away from the villa courtyard. Shu Qianzhi promptly yawned, turned back into the bedroom, drew the curtains, and plunged headfirst into her blankets.
The performance was over. Now it was time to rest properly and catch up on the sleep she’d lost overnight.
One minute later.
She opened her eyes again, staring at the ceiling while feeling for her phone nearby. Unlocking it, she set an alarm.
Wake up at eleven—after all, she was a good little sister who needed to make lunch for her brother.
After finishing this task, she tossed the phone aside, shifted into a comfortable position, and began snoring soundly.
…
The alarm rang punctually at eleven. The repeatedly cycling sound was utterly irritating. Having mild getting-up grumpiness, being awakened multiple times in succession left Shu Qianzhi feeling deeply frustrated.
But remembering she needed to get up and cook for Ji Zechen revived her spirits. She swiftly climbed out of bed and hurried straight to the kitchen.
Aunt Li was still holding her post in the kitchen. Upon seeing her, Shu Qianzhi dashed to her side, grabbed her hand, and affectionately called out, “Aunt Li!”
“Hey!” Aunt Li, caught off guard, took a small step back but still steadied herself to catch Shu Qianzhi. “You just woke up? The sun’s already baking your bottom.”
“I had a nightmare and didn’t sleep well last night,” Shu Qianzhi whined tearfully, cherishing having someone in this household she could freely act spoiled with.
Aunt Li patted her head, comforting her, “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Any monsters or ghosts would steer clear of you.”
Shu Qianzhi smiled sweetly, reluctantly letting go of Aunt Li and nodding.
Aunt Li thought her nightmare referred to monsters and ghosts, but in truth, she wasn’t afraid of those—after all, she had once been one of them herself.
What she truly feared more was the recurrence of those real events from her past life.
Dropping the topic quickly, she threw herself into the busy lunch preparations. Aunt Li had already prepared all the ingredients and even kindly helped her put on an apron. Meanwhile, Shu Qianzhi slowly cooked under Aunt Li’s patient guidance while chatting and laughing with her, creating a very lively atmosphere.
“Oh, by the way, Aunt Li, did you know? I cooked for brother last night.”
“Really? What did he say?”He said not even a dog would eat it,” Shu Qianzhi decisively complained, her expression pitiful yet tinged with an inviolable pride.
But Aunt Li couldn’t help chuckling as she listened, “Don’t worry, that child is just being stubborn. I saw the bowl on the table this morning—he finished every last bite.”
“Really? Then Brother is just a closet softie!” Shu Qianzhi immediately responded, genuinely happy, her smile lingering on her face without pause.
Before long, lunch was ready. Shu Qianzhi packed everything into insulated containers, sealed the lids, and placed them in an adorable bag.
The lunch was lavish, featuring fish, shrimp, and crab—both healthy and nutritious.
After a moment’s thought, Shu Qianzhi stuck a note on top: “Brother, no matter how busy work gets, don’t forget to eat!”
Finally, under Aunt Li’s affectionate gaze, she eagerly handed the bag to a buzz-cut bodyguard at the door, repeatedly emphasizing that it must be delivered directly to Ji Zechen.
The buzz-cut bodyguard hesitated at first but ultimately couldn’t resist the earnest pleas of the cute girl and agreed.
Shu Qianzhi immediately flashed an incredibly bright smile, “Thank you for your trouble! Please send me a message when Brother receives it!”
This person was brought by Master Ji, so she must hold special significance to him. Her words couldn’t be disobeyed.
That was the only thought in the buzz-cut bodyguard’s mind.
So he nodded firmly, “Understood.”
Shu Qianzhi blinked, then turned around and secretly revealed a triumphant expression—as innocent as she appeared in front of others, that’s how sly she was behind their backs.
…
In the office, a tall figure approached the desk and sat down directly, crossing one leg over the other, exuding an aura of noble aloofness.
“What is it?” Ji Zechen asked, his tone flat as he looked at Wan Feng, who had been waiting for some time.
Wan Feng handed over a document, “The young lady’s rehabilitation reports are all here, Master Ji. Please take a look.”
Ji Zechen wasn’t kind-hearted enough to shelter a stranger for long—compassion and softness were words that shouldn’t apply to him. But ever since that person appeared, everything he did for her seemed to mock his own understanding.
While continuing to react in inexplicable ways, he remained convinced that she wasn’t as simple as she appeared on the surface. There must be something about her that he still hadn’t uncovered.
So he needed to investigate her background even more thoroughly.
He extended his slender index and middle fingers to take the file, leaning back casually in his chair to skim through it.
“For amnesia patients like her, medication isn’t an option for now, so the doctor provided three treatment plans,” Wan Feng summarized briefly.
“First, take her to places she’s been before or have her meet familiar people, letting her relive her past life. This can slowly help her connect with deep-seated memories and recover them.”
“Second, hypnotherapy. Conducting guided conversations can also effectively assist with amnesia, though it has certain limitations.”
“And the third treatment plan—this might be the fastest but also the cruelest. The doctor doesn’t recommend it…”
Wan Feng hesitated for a moment, clearly swayed by unwarranted pity, “It’s electroshock therapy, but it could cause irreversible harm to the patient.”
With a soft “thud,” a treatment report was tossed onto the desk. Ji Zechen rested his hand on the armrest without even lifting his gaze.
“Is there any need to ask?” His voice remained as cold and unfeeling as ever, this time leaving no room for negotiation. “Since there’s the most effective option, what is there to discuss?”
Wan Feng pressed his lips together and clenched his fist, wanting to plead once more for the pitiable girl. “But in terms of feasibility, the first two options are more suitable. The doctor also said electroshock therapy has severe side effects, and they’re irreversible.”
But his words were superfluous.
He knew well that if Master Ji was truly determined to cut ties, he might even wish for something to happen to the girl—so he could rightfully abandon her without a second thought.
Yet, a sliver of hope remained. After all, Master Ji had been compassionate enough to take the girl in before; perhaps he would show mercy again this time?
Her eyes were genuinely pure and innocent, her nature so delicate it evoked pity.
He truly couldn’t bear to see her suffer like this.