Shen Lingxi fell asleep while on the IV drip.
Her slender body curled sideways, shrinking into a small ball as if she had no sense of security.
Fu Jinglan turned up the room temperature by two degrees.
Then, he pulled a chair over and sat down beside Shen Lingxi’s bed.
Time was so quiet, like a lit match slowly burning.
Fu Jinglan lowered his gaze, silently watching Shen Lingxi.
She looked just like a child when asleep.
Fu Jinglan tried speaking to her, his voice low and hoarse.
“Shen Lingxi, how long do you plan to sleep? Are you still going to eat dinner?”
How ridiculous—even lunch had been ruined by the cat.
She had knelt in the snow, yet when complaining, she still remembered to emphasize her large yellow croaker.
She probably didn’t even get a bite of fish.
Fu Jinglan scolded her with displeasure, “No temper, no backbone.”
Shen Lingxi was sound asleep, offering no response.
Not even her eyelashes fluttered.
Fu Jinglan leaned forward and reached out, playfully touching Shen Lingxi’s chin first, then pinching her cheek.
Soft, smooth, and utterly innocent.
With little ability to resist.
Finally, Fu Jinglan’s hand rested on Shen Lingxi’s forehead.
It was burning hot, scorching what little humanity he had left.
Only then did Fu Jinglan feel a pang of guilt, murmuring to himself:
“I won’t bully you anymore.”
Today, besides Jiang Qingyan, he had bullied her too.
As soon as Shen Lingxi entered the room, he had made her do things she was unfamiliar with, and she had been frightened.
Fu Jinglan couldn’t quite explain it—usually, aside from the discomfort in the mornings, he had little desire.
But from her photo to the real person, one glance at Shen Lingxi had made him lose his senses.
He wanted her.
He wanted to do it.
In fact, when Shen Lingxi first arrived at Lu Manor and stood waiting in the living room, Fu Jinglan had looked at her.
He had glanced at her casually.
She was pretty.
Now, Fu Jinglan lowered his head, pressing his cheek against Shen Lingxi’s forehead.
Still burning hot.
After staying like that for a while, Fu Jinglan whispered to himself.
“Spineless, where does that milky scent on you come from?”
It was somewhat pleasant.
Shen Lingxi was delirious with fever.
Suddenly, she raised her two hot arms and wrapped them tenderly around Fu Jinglan’s neck, forcing him to bend down, his body looming over her.
Their faces pressed close, ears almost touching.
Shen Lingxi’s lips lightly brushed Fu Jinglan’s ear, her breath scorching hot.
“Da^^ddy, can you help me wash something?”
Fu Jinglan felt hot and ticklish.
Unsure if Shen Lingxi was talking nonsense, he asked her in a deep voice:
“What do you want to wash?”
He certainly couldn’t bathe her.
Shen Lingxi closed her eyes, giggling foolishly.
Her words were soft and sweet: “Like me~”
Then her arms went limp, and she fell back into a deep sleep, silent once more.
She really was talking nonsense.
But was Shen Lingxi so afraid of not being liked, of not being accepted?
Even while sick, she couldn’t rest, still trying to please.
Fu Jinglan felt an indescribable discomfort in his chest, hard to put into words.
He still answered the delirious Shen Lingxi:
“I can’t help. I don’t like kids who get sick easily.”
“If you didn’t get sick, I might like you a little.”
Five minutes later, Fu Jinglan stood up from the chair. Before leaving, he patted the top of Shen Lingxi’s head.
“Spineless, learn to be sensible.”
“Get better quickly, waste less on medical expenses, or I’ll deduct it from your living allowance.”
At that moment, Shen Lingxi let out a soft whimper.
“Just starve Pangpang until she’s skinny, then drive her away. No need to starve her to death.”
Outside the floor-to-ceiling window lay the boundless gray-white expanse after the snow.
Fu Jinglan’s room remained unlit.
The safe flickered between light and shadow, opened then closed.
Something was taken out.
Then, Fu Jinglan settled into the deep brown sofa, a match flaring and dying in his long fingers.
One after another.
In the air, the scent of burning wood enveloped the man in wisps.
Time seemed to slow and grow quiet.
Finally, Fu Jinglan flicked his wrist, extinguishing the match with a decisive motion.
He dialed a number. “Come over.”
In front of the internal office building of Lu Manor.
A black Bentley had just parked. Mu Suizhou, who had originally come to work, urgently turned the steering wheel full circle to head back.
“Alright, I’ll be right there.”
When Mu Suizhou arrived, Fu Jinglan was standing by the window.
His tall figure, shrouded in dim light, appeared utterly lonely. A long-life lock dangled gently from his fingers.
Like duckweed adrift, unable to grasp its own fate.
The lock was gold, and so was the chain.
Fu Jinglan turned around, his handsome face cast in shadow, his features somber.
Just as Mu Suizhou was about to ask what was the matter, he heard Fu Jinglan speak in a hoarse voice.
“Suizhou, tell me… could Xiaosi still be alive?”
Surgery at ten, amnesia, the familiar eyes and brows…
What if Xiaosi wasn’t meant to die, what if she escaped death?
What if Shen Lingxi is Xiaosi, who lost her memory?
Mu Suizhou sat on the sofa, smoking as he pondered deeply.
To this day, he still remembered how Xiaosi had looked lying in a pool of blood.
Falling heavily from the rooftop, her young body twisted and broken.
Her innocent, pale little face, the trickling crimson blood blooming beneath her head like a tragic red flower.
Fu Jinglan had been driven mad with heartache, nearly destroyed.
He lay in bed for days and nights, neither eating nor sleeping.
As a result, the knife wound on his waist healed slowly, and when he returned to the fighting ring, the scar tore open repeatedly.
Beneath the red and black serpent tattoo, droplets of blood seeped out one by one…
Mu Suizhou stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.
“Miss Shen does bear some resemblance to Xiaosi in the eyes and brows, but we need to verify it from multiple angles.”
Across from him, Fu Jinglan had undone a few buttons of his shirt.
His pale collarbone and a hint of chest muscle were exposed, while the old wound on his side ached faintly in the rainy, snowy weather.
He frowned slightly.
“Contact Shen Lanting. Ask him the reason for Shen Lingxi’s craniotomy at age ten.”
“Also, have him and Shen Lingxi undergo a DNA kinship test.”
“And investigate Shen Lingxi’s photos and videos from childhood to now for comparison.”
Mu Suizhou nodded. “I’ll get on it right away.”
Winter at Beizhou Airport carried an indescribable desolation.
Shen Lanting, dressed in a black overcoat, walked in silence, moving in the opposite direction of a girl in a pink-and-white tiered dress.
Before entering the terminal, he tossed the bouquet in his hand into a trash bin.
Then he removed the couple’s ring from his middle finger and discarded it as well.
He never looked back.
Until a tearful voice called out from behind, “I’m sorry, d-^^dy, I’m a bad person!”
She wanted a sugar daddy who could keep showering her with money even more.
Shen Lanting still didn’t turn around, only waving his hand casually with his tall, retreating figure.
He had once really wanted to have a child with her, but now he didn’t have to think about it anymore.
It didn’t matter. It was simpler this way.
His little puppy had abandoned him.
And he was about to fly away from Beizhou.
Perhaps the fate between people is predetermined with an endpoint, whether long or short.
When he saw Mu Suizhou’s call, Shen Lanting gradually slowed his pace.
Finally, he impatiently pulled off his gold-rimmed glasses, hooking them on his finger, and came to a complete stop.
“First, I won’t cooperate with you arbitrarily investigating my niece.”
“Second, Axi and I don’t need to undergo a kinship test.”
Shen Lanting leaned against the cold wall, closed his eyes for a moment, and steadied his breathing.
“I’m not biologically related to the Shen family, so there’s no blood connection between me and Ah Xi.”
No matter who Shen Lingxi was, they wouldn’t show any familial ties in a test.
Shen Lanting’s mother was the second concubine of the Shen family, his father’s first love.
The two were forced apart back then due to his father’s arranged marriage.
His mother conceived Shen Lanting through IVF abroad, and his father never stopped caring for the mother and son.
Finally, after many years, he brought them back to Beizhou.
On the phone, Mu Suizhou’s words continued.
“Mr. Shen, the governor considers you a friend, so we can discuss things reasonably. Don’t you agree?”
How could Shen Lanting not hear the sharpness in those words?
If they weren’t friends, there would be no need for further talk.
Those at the peak of Beizhou could do whatever they wanted.
Shen Lanting picked up his boarding pass and walked to a slightly quieter corner.
Leaning against the wall, he said, “Ah Xi has been frail since childhood and never attended school outside before her surgery recovery.”
“When I returned to the country, the little girl was ten years old, having just undergone brain tumor surgery. I have a photo, and that’s all I can provide.”
Mu Suizhou soon received that photo.
The uncle and niece stood in the villa garden under bright sunlight.
Shen Lanting had his arm around Shen Lingxi’s shoulder.
At that time, Shen Lanting was eighteen—tall, slender, with a handsome yet mischievous smile.
Shen Lingxi, having just recovered from her serious illness, looked pale and fragile, as if a gust of wind could knock her over.
After viewing the photo, Mu Suizhou immediately forwarded it to Fu Jinglan.