Back at the hotel, Jiang Yue had just stepped out of the shower, towel in hand, drying her hair.
Qin Sang had stayed at the hotel Jiang Yue booked for the past two days. Out of thoughtfulness, she had picked up a set of skincare products on the way back and handed them to Jiang Yue.
Jiang Yue’s eyes lit up. She hugged Qin Sang’s arm excitedly. “Aww~ This set is perfect! I was just thinking I needed to get some these past couple of days.”
Qin Sang smiled at her. “I noticed your supplies were running low last night.”
Jiang Yue, touched, pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you, beautiful Sang Sang.”
“Ew—wet kisses!” Qin Sang teased, laughing. Then she added, “I’m heading back to Nancheng tomorrow. Back to long-distance calls again.”
“Ah?” Jiang Yue frowned. “Already going back?”
Suddenly remembering something, she hurriedly said, “Wait, I just met a lawyer. He has his own ways of handling rights and claims cases. Do you want me to introduce you?”
Qin Sang forced a wry smile. “No, thanks. I don’t need it anymore.”
Jiang Yue studied her, hesitating for a moment before asking carefully, “You really plan to give up on pursuing your father’s case?”
Qin Sang let out a light, almost freeing smile. “I gave up a long time ago. Almost a year ago, actually.”
“I thought maybe you were just telling us you’d given up to keep us from worrying… but secretly, you were still trying behind our backs,” Jiang Yue said softly, draping an arm around Qin Sang’s shoulder. “Do you… regret it?”
Qin Sang’s heart skipped a beat.
Of course she regretted it—how could she not?
“But regret doesn’t help,” she said, almost inaudibly. “People like us, with no influence, have such a hard time defending ourselves. We only risk losing everything… maybe even ourselves. And when danger finds us, those who don’t know still say, ‘You knew it was risky. What were you thinking?’ They don’t understand… we’re surrounded by abysses on every side.
“But you still have to try, see if there’s even a glimmer of hope—just a chance to survive safely…”
But now, she had tried. Every path was dark. No light.
Seeing the quiet despair in Qin Sang’s eyes, Jiang Yue immediately regretted bringing up the topic. She forced a smile and shifted the conversation:
“Ah, let’s just focus on living well in the present. I believe your uncle and aunt in heaven only want you to be safe and sound.”
“Mm,” Qin Sang murmured. “We’ll all be safe.”
After showering, Qin Sang reached for her phone to confirm her flight for tomorrow. But when she opened her bag, her eyes landed on her mother’s ring—the very one that should have been in Sheng Yu’s hand.
He had been so furious that night, almost as if he truly wanted to strangle her, yet beneath that anger was a suppressed care, ensuring she was unharmed.
In the past, thinking back on their time together, she had wondered if his deep affection could be a kind of disguise.
Otherwise… how could he have had an engagement with someone else, yet treated her with such intensity?
The words he had said in the car that night suddenly replayed vividly in her mind:
“I haven’t married anyone. Other than you, I never had an engagement with anyone.”
“That child… belongs to Zhang Qiao.”
No engagement. Then who had approached her father all those years ago? Was that person lying? Or had Sheng Yu deceived her tonight?
Qin Sang quietly stared at the ring. After a few seconds, she picked it up, holding it in her palm. It still seemed to carry his warmth.
She had to admit, in that moment, she believed in Sheng Yu.
Fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of irony.
Because now… the truth didn’t matter.
She couldn’t go back to him.
Late at night, in the depth of her dreams, he was everywhere. Qin Sang woke to find her pillow soaked.
That sense of being cornered, overwhelmed with frustration and desire, made the night almost unbearable.
The silence of night was broken only by the fluttering of a few birds.
In a Chinese-style villa…
A large study was dimly lit by a single night lamp. A redwood desk held an open file, documents scattered across the surface.
Each sheet detailed everything that could be learned about Qin Sang over the past five years.
During those five years, so much had happened. Her parents were gone.
Her father had died in a hospital, and it was discovered that his body had been incomplete afterward.
She had been such a gentle girl, wanting nothing more than peace. But in the despair and torment following her parents’ deaths, she had fought tirelessly for her father’s rights, refusing to let him rest in peace without justice.
And in the course of her already difficult, fragile fight for justice, she had angered many people… and had even been kidnapped in a violent incident.
Fortunately… the police had arrived just in time to rescue her.
How desperate, how terrified she must have felt…
And that was only the information recorded in the police files. How she had lived through the untraceable, day-to-day struggles… no one knew.
Across the room, Sheng Yu sat in a redwood chair, leaning back with his eyes closed. His hands rested on the armrests, crushing a cup in his grip, and the broken glass had cut his hand. Drops of red fell to the floor, glinting in the dim light.
The metallic scent of blood filled the room.
Yet he did nothing to stop it, letting it flow freely.
It wasn’t just the blood on the floor—it was as if arrows pierced his heart one by one.
He hadn’t felt pain in so long.
Now, every cell in his body throbbed with a searing agony that reached his bones.
And the worst pain of all… was that despite her hardship and desperation, she had never thought to come to him.
Soft… yet impossibly strong.
Like the way she had ended things with him: decisive, leaving no room for compromise, catching him completely off guard.
Sheng Yu would never forget that winter five years ago—how it had frozen him to the bone.
Her cold, merciless breakup message:
“Sheng Yu, we’re breaking up. We won’t meet again. Do not think of me.”
At that moment, he hadn’t even put on his coat before rushing out, frantically calling her as he ran. But the phone rang unanswered, until finally it was switched off.
Snow fell heavily, settling on his eyelashes and eyebrows, as he listened to the endless busy signal.
It was the first time in his life he felt winter’s bite so acutely, trembling all over from the cold.
Desperate, he kept calling, until he finally reached her house… only to find the doors locked and empty.
He wanted to wait for her, to ask what had made her unhappy…
He tried to soothe her.
But through that heavy snowfall, from dawn to dusk, day into night, the girl never returned.
That night, the snow piled thick in just a few hours.
The biting wind and flying snow pierced through him, chilling him to the bone.
He waited in the snow all day and night. By dawn, his legs were buried, numb to the cold.
Ice had formed on his eyelashes, brows, even hair tips. His face was pale, ghostly… a lifeless shell.
Until a neighbor, an old lady, pityingly told him:
“You’re waiting for the little Qin girl? They’ve moved away.”
One sentence shattered the last thread of hope he had. His eyes burned red.
In the next moment, his frozen knees gave way, and he fell to the snow. The world blurred around him.
Later, a phone call altered the course of his life, allowing him to finally stand again.
She really was ruthless.
Sheng Yu shook off the memory, his expression dark as he rolled his black jade ring between his fingers. Then he called Ye Huai.
“Tomorrow’s three-party meeting with the Island Nation. You go as the representative. I’m heading to Nancheng.”
“Nancheng?” Ye Huai seemed to understand, smiling. “Sure. But then I won’t get my holiday.”
“After the meeting, you’ll get your holiday back. Make sure to take the Island Nation’s portion, kick them out of the game,” Sheng Yu instructed.
“Understood. I’ll keep my phone on,” Ye Huai replied.
After hanging up, Sheng Yu’s eyes were heavy with shadow.
If she wouldn’t tell him anything, he’d find out on his own.