The car turned back onto the bustling main road. As it passed a grand dance hall, Su Fuying caught a fleeting glimpse of Su Qingwan stepping down from a rickshaw, her face dark with sullen fury.
Su Fuying tapped gently on the window, resting her chin on her hand, watching Su Qingwan’s figure vanish in an instant.
They soon arrived at the Cantonese restaurant, which was quite busy. Song Bo walked ahead, and she followed close behind. They were ushered into a private room—secluded, and quiet. Being seen with Song Bo drew eyes everywhere; Su Fuying was not yet comfortable eating a full meal beneath so many gazes. Besides, for a man of Song Bo’s standing, a private room was clearly the proper choice.
Song Bo pulled out a chair for her, then walked around and sat across from her. A waiter brought over the menu. With a simple wave of his hand, Song Bo passed it to Su Fuying.
She scanned the list of mouthwatering dishes and looked up. “What are your house specialties?”
The waiter pointed to a section on the page. “Everything in this column is our signature, Miss—please take your pick.”
Su Fuying ordered the classic Cantonese dishes: white cut chicken, sweet and sour pork, roast goose, salt-baked chicken, and honey-glazed barbecued pork. Song Bo added a soup and several other dishes he guessed she might enjoy.
While they waited, hot water was brought to the table. Song Bo poured a cup and set it neatly within her reach.
“The day after tomorrow I leave for Northern Capital,” he said evenly. “Should anything arise while I am gone, go to the Military Governor’s Headquarters and seek Xu Mang. He will remain here in Haishi.”
“Very well,” she replied. “I shall remember.”
As the dishes began to arrive one by one, Song Bo asked casually, “Have you decided which universities you intend to apply to?”
From the moment she had awakened to this second life, Su Fuying had known exactly which schools she would target. Rebirth had granted her foresight. In her past life she had sat these same entrance exams; she knew the questions, and she knew the standards. Getting into university was never in doubt—the only question was how fine a university she could reach. She had studied relentlessly since returning, determined to aim higher. Heaven had granted her a second chance; she would not live only to settle old scores. She would see the wider world, and make this rebirth count.
“Northern Capital University, of course,” she said. “I shall also submit applications to Southern Capital University, River Capital University, and Haishi University.”
In her past life her grades had been decent but unexceptional, and she had not dared aim so high. This time, she meant to try.
Song Bo nodded simply. “I shall arrange transport for you.” Rail travel was slow and tiring; a young woman should not be jostling from place to place unescorted.
Su Fuying had already known he would say as much. She tilted her head and looked at him, a soft smile touching her lips. “Then thank you, General.”
The soup had cooled to a pleasant warmth. Song Bo filled her bowl. She accepted it gladly, and ate with a light and contented heart.
That afternoon Song Bo took Su Fuying to see the apartment he had mentioned. The building was only a few years old, set in pleasant surroundings. Inside, it was immaculate and uncluttered—only a bed and a desk stood in the main bedroom.
“I have rarely stayed here,” Song Bo told her. “It was used occasionally for brief visits when official business kept me in the city. I shall have Xu Mang send workmen to renovate and decorate it. Tell them exactly what you wish, whatever comes to mind. Everything shall be arranged to your liking.”
The apartment was spacious, presently finished only with plain white plaster walls, basic lighting, and utilities laid. The Song Manor was elegant and opulent; this place would be kept simpler, a change of pace. And with examinations drawing near, she had little time to oversee elaborate works anyway.
“Simple and clean is perfectly fine,” Su Fuying said. “The floors and walls are already in good order. Just have desks, cabinets, and wardrobes made, and bring in sofas and furnishings to fill the rooms. That will be quite enough.”
Song Bo nodded slowly and said nothing more. They had all the time ahead of them; things could be added and arranged gradually, at her leisure.
Su Qingwan arrived at the dance hall Qin Yiheng had once brought her to. Couples danced and laughed across the floor—but Qin Yiheng was nowhere to be seen. The Qin family had assured her he would be here.
She stood rigid-faced in the center of the hall, drawing many curious stares.
Up on the balcony landing, several men leaned over the railing and watched. One curled his lip in a knowing, leering smile.
“Boss… isn’t that the little beauty from Red Six Gate last time?”
“Soft and sweet little thing. We were just getting started when we got interrupted.”
“Shall we bring her over again?”
The man they called Boss narrowed his eyes. Though still young, his face bore a cunning, hardened look. “She stands there bold as brass—likely she comes from some family of consequence. Go find out who she is.”
Perhaps their gazes burned too hot. Su Qingwan sensed them and looked up. The moment she saw the men, a jolt ran through her. They seemed familiar. She felt certain she had seen them before—and yet she could not recall a single memory of who they were.
“Boss, the girl looks at us like she doesn’t remember a thing,” one of them murmured.
Lou Zhai curled his lip and waved lazily down at her. Su Qingwan’s frown deepened; the feeling of familiarity grew stronger by the moment.
Lou Zhai turned and walked back into the shadows of the upper room. “That mixture we gave her… in too great a quantity it clouds the mind and eats away memory. Just how much did you lot dose her with?”
They had been unable to get enough of her soft, helpless form. In hindsight—the amount they had given her was easily twice what they would have given a grown man.
When Su Qingwan stepped back out into the sunlight, she felt chilled to the bone. Instinct screamed these men were dangerous. She could not shake the feeling that she had been marked. Distracted and uneasy, she hailed a rickshaw and returned home—completely unaware that a man had stood watching her from the shadows all the while.
Shortly afterward, that man reported to the private room.
“Boss. The woman just returned to the Su household. I made inquiries—apparently she is the Second Daughter of the Su family.”
Lou Zhai puffed on a cigar, smoke curling around his face. “The Second Daughter.”
“Is she not betrothed to Qin Yiheng?” another man said with a sneer.
“Fancy that. Young Master Qin’s intended… and we had our turn with her first.”
“Qin Yiheng cares little for women these days,” laughed Li Yongjun, who had recognized Su Qingwan downstairs. “He’s likely drowning in wine and pleasure somewhere, oblivious.” He smirked. “Still… I kept the photographs we took. A daughter of the gentry… truly a sight one never tires of.”
Lou Zhai’s expression hardened. “Print more copies. They shall serve us well later.”
“Understood.”
Lou Zhai’s smile faded into cold amusement. “Send word to Qin Yiheng. Tell him to stay quietly at home. I shall send men to call upon him.”
He stood up and walked to the table, picking up the morning newspaper. Across the front page was printed the news of Song Bo and Su Fuying’s engagement.
Lou Zhai pressed his cigar into an ashtray and ran a finger over the grainy photograph of Su Fuying.
“The elder sister is far lovelier than the younger… and still a student. Song Bo’s luck is truly extraordinary.”
Li Yongjun clicked his tongue. “That Second Su girl must be addled in the head. She turned down Song Bo—and swapped herself into Qin Yiheng’s bed.”
Lou Zhai set the paper down and stood gazing out the window, hands behind his back. “Song Bo is ice and iron. Cold as the grave. Who could compare him to the dashing, carefree charm of young Master Qin?”
Li Yongjun let out a low whistle. “Still… you have to pity that Su Second Daughter. Pan Jiaxiang brought her here and ruined her virtue… then hopped on a boat and fled abroad to study.” He chuckled darkly. “Which means… does she even know what was done to her?”