Zhong Nian only realized she had taken the wrong suitcase when she was placing it in the trunk.
Her suitcase was black, with straight lines, immaculate, not a scratch in sight. The one in front of her, however, had a combination lock with two characters inscribed on it:
— Jin Xin.
Not hers.
Zhong Nian: “I think you grabbed the wrong one.”
Sui Yu’s hand on the trunk paused. “Wrong one?”
“Yeah.” She pointed to the inscription. “My suitcase doesn’t have these characters.”
Sui Yu frowned and pulled out his phone to call the airline.
While he made the call, Zhong Nian stood idly by.
Outside, the sky was an endless, cloudless blue.
Twelve years had passed in a blink. Coming back now, nothing seemed to have changed.
Nan City was just as bustling as ever. Boarding the plane, the familiar sound of Mandarin and a sea of Chinese faces made her feel instantly at home.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen Chinese people abroad.
She had spent some time living in London’s Soho, a hub for Chinese expatriates. But among them, the Chinese spoken always felt slightly off.
Slightly off—but enough to make someone far from home tear up at the sound.
Zhong Nian recalled what she had told her boss, William, when she resigned: “I’m Chinese. Sooner or later, I have to return to China.”
She had even used a Chinese phrase: “Fallen leaves return to their roots.”
William had been unsatisfied. He couldn’t understand why she would give up such a good job—the influence of The Times was unmatched by any Chinese newspaper.
“But no matter what, the UK’s influence in the world can’t compare to China’s.”
After she said this, William was silent for a long while. Finally, he patted her shoulder and said, “Good luck, my girl.”
Resignation, farewells to her uncle, and then—returning home.
She inhaled the fragrance of unknown flowers, her feet touching the familiar land, cotton-like flakes drifting in the air like snow—pure and beautiful. Finally, a sense of reality settled in her heart.
Lost in thought, a voice suddenly interrupted:
Sui Yu: “I’ve told the airline to keep an eye out. But is there anything important in that suitcase of yours?”
Zhong Nian glanced at him. “Yes.”
“That’s troublesome,” Sui Yu sighed.
After all, whoever had taken her suitcase might never contact the airline.
Zhong Nian understood his concern. The suitcase could easily be broken into, and inside were her savings from all these years, as well as a visible DSLR, laptop, and tablet—things anyone could check online and see their value.
She wasn’t worried about those things, but there was one item inside that mattered to her.
She glanced down at the suitcase again. “This one costs over five thousand.”
Anyone who could afford a suitcase at that price probably wasn’t short of money.
Sui Yu rubbed his temple, looked at the inscribed name, and said, “Hopefully Miss Jin will return it.”
He glanced at her after saying that.
Zhong Nian stood in the sunlight, her expression cool and aloof. Her peach-blossom eyes curled slightly at the corners, giving a subtle allure, but her face betrayed no emotion—an icy beauty.
Over all these years, her temperament hadn’t changed.
Quiet, detached, independent.
Sui Yu closed the trunk, tilted his head, and smiled with a hint of roguish charm. “Let’s go. I’ll show you my turf.”
Zhong Nian murmured, “Mm.”
It was a weekday, and the roads were packed.
The sky shifted from clear blue to hazy orange, streetlights flicked on, neon signs shimmered, and night fell.
Zhong Nian checked her emails on her phone, unaware that something unexpected was about to happen.
“—Watch out!” a shout rang beside her. The wheel turned sharply, and she slammed against the car door. The Maybach skidded to the side of the road.
Sui Yu braked and immediately turned to her, concern etched on his face. “Are you okay? Any injuries?”
Rubbing her left shoulder, Zhong Nian hummed lightly and subtly avoided his hand. “I’m fine.”
Sui Yu hesitated, as if the moment hadn’t happened, and withdrew his hand. “Really?”
“Yes.” She glanced in the rearview mirror. “Let’s get out and see.”
Sui Yu shook his head firmly. “Stay in the car. Don’t move.”
Zhong Nian hesitated, but he was unwavering. “Sit tight. Don’t move.”
·
Shen Fang, in high spirits after picking up Liang Yifeng, hummed all the way.
Liang Yifeng sat silently in the passenger seat, as always.
Suddenly, Shen Fang perked up. “Hey, isn’t that Sui Yu’s car?”
Liang Yifeng barely frowned, adjusting his glasses and following Shen Fang’s gaze.
Shen Fang grinned mischievously. “It’s Sui Yu! Don’t you remember? And the girl beside him—she’s gorgeous! Where’d he get a model like that? Sui Yu hasn’t exactly been living as a monk all these years; he’s really out there having fun.”
Liang Yifeng remained expressionless, tapping his fingers on his knee with a rhythmic precision.
His dark eyes narrowed suddenly, fist clenching.
A cool voice broke the moment.
“See that car?”
“Yeah, which one?” Shen Fang followed his gaze. “Sui Yu’s Maybach?”
“Hit it.”
“??????”
Shen Fang blinked in disbelief. “Are you crazy?”
Liang Yifeng’s gaze remained locked on the passenger seat.
“Get out. Apologize,” he ordered.
“Uh—what?”
Liang Yifeng: “You’re driving. You hit someone. Go apologize.”
“…Okay.”
Shen Fang begrudgingly got out, muttering a hundred curses, before tapping the Maybach’s door. “Hey, Young Master Sui.”
Sui Yu froze, then looked at him incredulously. “Hey, Shen Fang, are you insane? On a road this wide, you had to squeeze in?”
“Oh, bad eyesight, forgot my glasses—my apologies!” Shen Fang laughed.
Nan City was small. Both were well-known in business circles, so after a few words, the incident was over.
As Shen Fang left, his eyes kept darting toward the passenger seat.
Sui Yu blocked his view, closing the door, back broad and relaxed. “Still curious, Shen Zong?”
Shen Fang teased: “Why hide the beauty in the car?”
Sui Yu exhaled smoke lazily, smiling carelessly. “You wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
He pressed the cigarette out on the hood, his eyes flashing a warning: “Look all you want, now scram.”
Shen Fang clicked his tongue. “You’re really grumpy.”
He left, muttering about the unseen treasure in the car.
Inside, Liang Yifeng’s gaze never left the passenger seat.
These years, he had heard all about Sui Yu. One story made him especially disdainful: the notorious playboy never let women sit in the passenger seat.
Today, he had.
Liang Yifeng lowered his eyes as the neon lights streaked across his face, highlighting his chiseled features. Beneath the gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes grew colder, thoughts sharp as a knife.