Ginkgo leaves rustled in the breeze, and the scorching sun baked the earth until the soil emitted a parched, toasted scent.
A black bulletproof Mercedes-Benz pulled up silently beneath the ginkgo tree at the village entrance, its body gleaming with a cold, metallic luster under the sunlight.
The car door opened, and a man in a bespoke white shirt stepped out. His posture was as straight as a pine, his shoulder lines sharp. Aviator sunglasses obscured most of his face, leaving only a cold, hard jawline and thin, tightly pressed lips visible.
Two plainclothes aides with watchful eyes followed him immediately. One of them moved efficiently to open the trunk.
The aura the man exuded was entirely out of place in this rustic setting, like a cold current from an ice field, instantly suppressing the surrounding heat.
Liang Zhaodi, clutching a massive snakeskin bag, shuffled over cautiously. She looked up and offered a bright smile.
“Is… is it you who’s come to pick me up? Sorry to keep you waiting.”
The man took off his sunglasses, revealing a pair of deep, icy eyes. His gaze swept over her like a hawk. “Liang Zhaodi?”
The village head, his back already hunched in a fawning bow, waited at the side with a sycophantic smile plastered on his face.
“Mr. Jiang, you’ve finally arrived! This girl is Zhaodi. I hope she won’t be too much trouble!”
He secretly tugged at Zhaodi’s sleeve and lowered his voice. “This is a big shot from Tianbei. Hurry up and greet Mr. Jiang!”
Zhaodi lowered her head timidly. “Mr. Jiang.”
The man’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. His gaze fell upon her faded floral shirt, and his voice carried an unquestionable authority. “The name is bad.”
He said nothing more, merely tilting his chin toward his aides. “Load the things.”
The assistant, Xiao Lin, stepped forward immediately and took the snakeskin bag from Zhaodi. The bag was so heavy she could barely carry it, yet he lifted it effortlessly with one hand and tossed it neatly into the trunk.
Just then, the sound of a car engine approached from the distance. A sedan sped toward them, and the District Chief himself jumped out, jogging the rest of the way with a respectful smile. “Oh, Chief Prosecutor Jiang! I had no idea you were visiting. Please forgive me for the lack of a proper welcome!”
Jiang Tiansong didn’t even lift his eyelids. His voice was flat, carrying a distance that pushed people a thousand miles away. “Private business. No need to trouble yourself.”
Jiang Tiansong was a native of Tianbei. His family lineage traced back six generations of founding heroes of the nation. Raised under meticulous family care, he had been a top student throughout his youth, earning prestigious residency opportunities during his studies. After graduation, he rose through the ranks of the system. Six months ago, he had been promoted into the power center of the Procuratorate. At only twenty-eight years old, he had already made a name for himself in Tianbei’s elite circles.
The District Chief’s advances were rebuffed, but he didn’t dare show the slightest dissatisfaction. He rubbed his hands and smiled apologetically.
“Yes, yes, of course. Your private business comes first. If there’s anything you need, just say the word. I am at your service at all times!”
Jiang Tiansong ignored him and said to Zhaodi, “Let’s go.”
Zhaodi hurried to follow. As she passed the village head, she heard him muttering under his breath:
“My God, even the District Chief has to bow and scrape. Just who is this Mr. Jiang?”
A gust of hot wind swept past. Zhaodi caught a whiff of the man’s scent—a crisp, cedar fragrance mixed with the faint, indefinable pressure of someone in high power.
She stole a glance at his ramrod-straight back, her mind racing.
This man is completely different from the men in the village. He looks like he walked out of a painting, though he seems a bit scary.
They hadn’t walked far when the sound of children crying erupted behind them.
Jiang Tiansong didn’t stop, merely giving a look to the aide beside him. The man understood instantly, stepping forward to discreetly block the path between Zhaodi and the wailing children. He didn’t scold them or move too close; he simply used his presence to stabilize the situation.
Zhaodi couldn’t help but look back. Seeing her two younger sisters, Pandi and Wangdi, crying until they were out of breath, her heart clenched. Ignoring the aide’s attempt to stop her, she ran back and knelt to comfort the children.
“Sister, Papa said you don’t want us anymore…” Pandi sobbed.
Zhaodi’s eyes reddened. Just as she was about to explain, Jiang Tiansong’s voice came from behind her, tinged with a hint of impatience yet carrying a certain decisive weight.
“Liang Zhaodi, time is limited.”
He stood a short distance away, the sunlight outlining his cold silhouette. He watched the scene with indifferent eyes, as if observing a play that had nothing to do with him.
The village head and several village women rushed over, stuffing candies into the girls’ hands and coaxing them, finally managing to pull the two young girls away.
Zhaodi looked up to see that Jiang Tiansong was already in the car. An aide signaled for her to get in. The car door opened automatically and smoothly, leaving Zhaodi wide-eyed with shock.
“Get in,” Jiang Tiansong’s voice came from inside the car, sounding like a command.
Zhaodi carefully sat in the back seat. The leather was so soft she didn’t dare lean back fully. The cool air from the air conditioner instantly chased away the heat. She couldn’t help but whisper in awe, “It’s so cool…”
From the front, Jiang Tiansong glanced at the girl in the corner through the rearview mirror, his gaze deepening.
Before leaving, his grandfather’s words had echoed in his ears: “Her name is Zhaodi. She’s a child who has had a hard life. Her mother passed away early, and she lived with her grandfather for years. Now that he’s gone, her family is trying to force her into marriage for a dowry. Her grandfather saved my life on the battlefield; I owe him a life. In all these years, my old comrade never asked for a single favor. Now, his only request is for me to help this child go to school in Tianbei. Her college entrance exam scores were excellent; don’t let her talent go to waste.”
He had simply agreed with a faint nod at the time. Now, looking at this girl in ill-fitting clothes and her eyes full of both curiosity and timidity, he felt a genuine flicker of distaste for the name “Zhaodi” for the first time.
“Do you want to change your name?” he suddenly asked, his tone still devoid of much warmth.
Zhaodi snapped her head up, her eyes full of shock. “Change my name?”
“Mhm,” Jiang Tiansong said, looking straight ahead. “That name is not good. Have you thought of a different name yourself?”
Zhaodi froze. She had never imagined she could change her name. At home, she was just “Zhaodi”—a tool used to “invite a younger brother.”
She murmured softly, “I… I used to secretly think that if I could be called ‘Nianchu,’ that would be nice… ‘Nian’ as in ‘to miss,’ and ‘Chu’ as in ‘original heart’…”
Jiang Tiansong nodded, his tone carrying the decisiveness of a leader. “Fine. You’ll be Liang Nianchu.”
He said to the aide in the front seat, “Take her to the registry office first to get the name changed.”
Having grown up surrounded by top-tier resources, he was long accustomed to handling trivial matters with high efficiency. This decisiveness, bearing the hallmark of a superior, was a direct result of his years of experience within the rapid-fire environment of the system.
Zhaodi’s eyes widened, unable to believe the matter had been settled so easily. She opened her mouth to ask “Is that okay?” but was silenced by the indisputable aura in Jiang Tiansong’s eyes.
Half an hour later, the car stopped in front of the local household registry center. It was close to closing time, and only one window in the lobby was still lit. A staff member wearing glasses was packing away his stamps. Seeing them enter, he frowned. “We’re closed. Come back tomorrow.”
Jiang Tiansong didn’t stop. He merely glanced at his assistant, Xiao Lin.
Xiao Lin immediately stepped forward, produced a set of credentials and flashed them in front of the staff member, whispering something.
When the man saw the emblem on the ID, his fingers jerked violently, and the stamp nearly fell off the desk. He looked up at Jiang Tiansong’s retreating back, his face turning pale instantly as he scrambled to his feet.
Zhaodi hadn’t even processed what was happening before she saw the staff member jogging to turn his computer back on, frantically operating it with her ID card.
“Liang Zhaodi… changing to Liang Nianchu, right? Doing it now! Right away!”
Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as he clicked the mouse repeatedly. In less than five minutes, he printed a new household registration page. When he handed it over with both hands, his fingertips were still trembling.
Jiang Tiansong took the page, glanced at it, and said flatly, “Let’s go.”
Zhaodi clutched the brand-new registration page, the ink on the name “Liang Nianchu” still fresh.
She stole a look at Jiang Tiansong’s back and noticed that he hadn’t even slowed his pace for this interlude, as if the scene of the staff member being rendered speechless with fear had never happened.
It wasn’t until she was back in the car that she fully realized this man had, with a casual remark, helped her change the name that had been a source of shame for eighteen years.
As the car drove into the small town, Liang Nianchu instinctively gripped the hem of her shirt. “Mr. Jiang, could I meet with my homeroom teacher, Teacher Huang? I need to get my admission letter.”
Jiang Tiansong looked straight ahead. After a moment, he uttered a single, faint word: “Mhm.”
The black sedan came to a halt in front of a small restaurant. Huang Ruobing’s eyes lit up when she approached. Her gaze lingered briefly on Jiang Tiansong’s upright figure and the aides’ official briefcases, her smile gaining a touch more cautious politeness.
“And this is…?”
“This is Mr. Jiang,” Nianchu introduced quickly.
However, Jiang Tiansong merely gave Huang Ruobing a slight nod. His gaze never lingered on her face as he spoke directly to the aide. “Bring the things inside.”
Huang Ruobing’s hand froze mid-air. The village head’s previous comment about a “big shot from Tianbei” suddenly felt very real.
Watching the efficient way the aide opened the trunk, she realized the person before her was no ordinary visitor.
“Teacher Huang,” Nianchu said, holding a brand-new backpack containing the admission letter to Tianbei University. “Mr. Jiang helped me change my name. From now on, I am Liang Nianchu.”
Huang Ruobing’s hand trembled slightly as she took the copy of the registration page. She looked up at Jiang Tiansong, who was currently wiping his fingertips with a wet wipe. The aura radiating from him made the small restaurant feel cramped.
“Mr. Jiang has gone to a lot of trouble,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “Nianchu is lucky to have met you.”
Jiang Tiansong didn’t respond. He simply tilted his chin toward Nianchu. “Leave as soon as you’re done eating. The plane won’t wait.”
During the meal, he barely touched his chopsticks. Only when Nianchu pulled out her admission letter did his gaze linger for two seconds on the gold-embossed name of the university.
Eighteen-year-old Liang Nianchu did not yet know that this seemingly cold man, ten years her senior, not only carried the glory of his family but had already reached a level of power at the age of twenty-eight that many could never hope to achieve.
As they walked out of the restaurant, Huang Ruobing watched the taillights of the sedan as it vanished into the distance. She suddenly remembered Nianchu mentioning a “benefactor” who was helping her secure a chance to study. Only now did she realize that this benefactor could make the District Chief wait at a village entrance and have a name change processed in five minutes—this man’s status was definitely not simple.
In the airport lobby, Nianchu felt the admission letter in her bag, then looked at Jiang Tiansong, who was checking in. He stood before the VIP lane, his profile etched in cold lines under the lights. The watch on his wrist gave off a faint but piercing reflection.
“What are you standing there for?” Jiang Tiansong’s brow quirked as he looked back. “We’re boarding.”