Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Exposing Each Other’s Identities

“Fifty million?”

Even Zhou He Chen was stunned by the number.

Qin Xian never considered consequences. Zhou He Chen had cleaned up plenty of messes for him, and the Qin Family had paid heavily for it.

Qin Group had been listed for years now, and its market value was already over nine billion. Even so, fifty million wasn’t pocket change you could toss out without thinking. Market value didn’t mean liquid cash.

“Yes.” Sheng Yun Yi sounded genuinely confused. “He Chen, you’ve known her for a long time. Why is she so desperate for money? Was she staying by your side back then because of money, too?”

The question tightened Zhou He Chen’s chest. That hollow sinking feeling rose again. He pinched the bridge of his nose, irritation flickering—but his voice stayed gentle. “Yun Yi, don’t worry about her. And don’t go near her. I’m afraid you’ll get hurt.”

“I understand,” Sheng Yun Yi said softly. “But if you have time… you should still go see her. Maybe you can bring her back to normal.”

Zhou He Chen didn’t answer that. He only said, “I’ll pick you up tonight for dinner.”

The call ended. Unease lingered in the air.

—

“Yun Yi, you must’ve been frightened today.” Madam Qin approached again, warmth carefully pasted onto her face. “Our A Xian never plays with women. His temper is bad, sure, but he listens to you. When you have time, come sit at the Qin Family home more often. Aunt truly welcomes you.”

Sheng Yun Yi only smiled, neither agreeing nor refusing. “Aunt, let’s go.”

—

At the Lin Family home, Ye Wan Lan closed the door and lowered her voice. “Aunt, I’m sorry. You got scared. I almost dragged you into this.”

Xu Pei Qing looked at her, something shifting behind her eyes.

Then, as if a memory snapped into place, her expression turned cold. Without a word, she walked into the bedroom.

Bang.

The door slammed, cutting Ye Wan Lan off.

Ye Wan Lan didn’t move. Four years of memories surged up like dark water.

“A Lan, I bought you some specialties from South City. Do you want—”

“What cake? I only eat cakes from White Swan. How much did yours cost per pound?”

Then, with a scornful spit:

“Pah. Take your cheap stuff and get out!”

Cake shattered across the floor.

And so did Xu Pei Qing’s already battered heart.

Ye Wan Lan closed her eyes.

For those four years trapped inside her body, she could only see and hear. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move.

It was the first time she’d ever understood helplessness—a word she’d long since erased from her dictionary.

And even now, she still didn’t know why her body had been taken by the Transmigrator.

Why her?

Anger?

Refusal?

There was only pain.

Pain so deep her nerves felt like they’d been seared red by fire.

For a moment, a vast galaxy seemed to bloom before her eyes—clusters of light flickering, countless numbers floating like code.

Ding-dong!

A notification snapped her back. She steadied herself, and the vision vanished.

[Rong Yu]: Classmate Ye, there’s a classical instrument exhibition at No. 1 High School tomorrow. Interested? You have to come. Music is also very helpful for your recovery.

[Ye Wan Lan]: I’ll be there on time.

She drew the curtains open. Sunlight flooded the room and fell across the Seven-String Qin, as if notes were dancing along its surface.

The good weather held into the next day. The morning sun was even softer.

Ye Wan Lan put on a bucket hat and went to meet Rong Yu.

Rong Yu and Yan Ting Feng were waiting in the counseling office.

Ye Wan Lan knew Rong Yu was from the Rong Family, an inheritor of the Tai Su Lineage. Yet he’d come to River City No. 1 High School to work as a counselor.

She considered it in silence.

This Rong Family man didn’t look particularly sharp.

“Classmate Ye,” Rong Yu asked brightly, “do you have someone you like? Say, Ting Ting?”

He leaned in, eager. “Don’t worry—I have professional ethics. I’ll keep your secret.”

There was a kind of therapy called love therapy.

Ye Wan Lan replied flatly, “I do. But he’s dead.”

Using a dead man as a shield wasn’t too much, was it?

On the road to seizing the world, love was insignificant to her—something she didn’t need.

Rong Yu froze. “Dead? Who?”

Was this young lady, at such a young age, already carrying an unattainable first love in her heart?

How was he supposed to treat that?

Ye Wan Lan casually named someone she’d never even met. “Tower Lord Shen Xiao.”

Yan Ting Feng suddenly looked up, his phoenix eyes narrowing.

Rong Yu laughed, relieved. “You scared me. I thought it was someone else. My brother said not long ago that he also likes a dead person—Princess Yong Ning.”

Ye Wan Lan met Yan Ting Feng’s gaze. He looked perfectly calm and smiled at her.

She fell silent.

Yeah.

Using a dead person as a shield really was too much.

Ye Wan Lan stood and went out for a walk.

The door closed.

Two beats of silence passed before Yan Ting Feng spoke softly. “What a pity…”

Rong Yu blinked. “A pity for what?”

Yan Ting Feng pressed a hand lightly to his chest. His smile looked gentle; the shimmer in his eyes looked almost like water. “A pity the one I hated didn’t die, and the one I loved could never be mine.”

He hated.

He hated that three hundred years ago, Shen Zhou was destroyed, a million bones left scattered.

He hated the shattered land and rivers—and his own helplessness.

He hated that his old friends had all died in battle, none surviving.

He hated that three hundred years later he woke from long sleep. Even with Bei Ming arts and the Life-Devouring Gu sustaining him, he could only drag along a ruined, sick body.

If only Princess Yong Ning were still here…

Yan Ting Feng gathered himself and said evenly, “Has the International Strategic Research Institute replied?”

“No.” Rong Yu sighed. “That was three hundred years ago. They don’t have a heavenly eye. With only that scrap of a clue, how could they infer the enemy?”

Yan Ting Feng closed his eyes. “Let me know if there’s news.”

Rong Yu truly couldn’t understand his obsession.

Three hundred years had passed. Whoever invaded Shen Zhou was surely dead by now. Life had long moved on. What was left to chase?

“Brother, let it go. We don’t need to drown in the past. The future—”

Before Rong Yu could finish, Yan Ting Feng’s eyes opened.

His gaze turned, slow and sharp.

For an instant, it felt like blades and thunder fell at the same time.

Rong Yu stiffened, frozen by the killing intent.

Then footsteps approached—another presence entering, and the murderous aura dissolved as if it had never existed.

Rong Yu turned and saw Ye Wan Lan come back, a guqin tucked in her arms.

“Borrowed it,” she said, calm. “Want to listen?”

Yan Ting Feng looked at her. The darkness between his brows faded completely. “With respect, I accept.”

Ye Wan Lan nodded. “Consider it repayment for those shoes.”

Yan Ting Feng paused, then smiled again, gentle as ever. “Okay.”

“This is unbelievable,” Rong Yu muttered as he sat. “Someone can actually keep you in check.”

The guqin music flowed—winding and clear. It spun with the breeze and drifted out the window.

The familiar melody made Zhou He Chen pause below. He lifted his head and looked toward the counseling office.