Ling’er glanced at Feng Jiuxiao and knew what her daughter was worried about. “This is between your father and me. We aren’t young anymore; we will settle things as adults should,” she said.

Qin Shu understood where her mother was coming from but still felt worried. “Father said you want to return to Jiangcheng with me. Is that true?’

Ling’er nodded. “Mm.”

Qin Shu pursed her lips, not knowing what to say. She knew what it felt like to be lied to by someone she trusted wholeheartedly.

She would not persuade her mother to do otherwise.

…

After Qin Shu left…

Ling’er glanced at Feng Jiuxiao with no intention of saying anything else. However, just as she was about to leave, she was locked in an embrace. The faint fragrance of bamboo leaves tickled her senses. It was a familiar scent. The heat around her penetrated deep into her bones, taking a breath away.

A cold voice washed over her, tinged with guilt and helplessness. “Ling’er…”

Ling’er did not try to break free. Perhaps it was the comforting sense of familiarity he exuded or that she did not truly hate him, which was why she did not instinctively recoil in disgust.

She sighed. “Help Xiao Bao recover her memories. They are hers, to begin with, and we should not stand between her and them, even if it does not bring her joy and only sadness. It is the least you can do for her; you owe her this much.”

Feng Jiuxiao felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. “I promised Chao Yan.”

A few years ago, he made a deal with Chao Yan.

Chao Yan knew he was the one who erased Xiao Bao’s memories, so as part of his silence, he asked him to seal the memories of his and Xiao Bao’s time together.

In exchange, he would be free to lead a happy life with his wife and child.

The promise of a perfect, happy family was too great a temptation for him to ignore, so he agreed.

Ling’er was stunned by this revelation, and she turned to look at Feng Jiuxiao, surprised. “Chao Yan knew he would not live long, so he asked you to do this?” she asked.

Feng Jiuxiao nodded. “Mm.”

Ling’er did not know what to say. Her heart thrummed sorrowfully as she thought of Chao Yan, that child. He must have extracted that promise from Feng Jiuxiao because he did not want her daughter to agonise over his looming death.

It showed how much he cared for Qin Shu.

The bittersweet tragedy was more painful because her daughter was none the wiser.

She sighed again. Ling’er struggled against Feng Jiuxiao’s embrace, but that merely made him hug her tighter.

Feng Jiuxiao stared at his wife, his gaze falling on her lower abdomen. Ling’er wore a loose dress, which prevented him from seeing her stomach.

These days, he and Ling’er slept on separate beds. He could not even see the baby even if he wanted to.

He had missed his daughter’s childhood; he did not want to miss another one.

“Ling’er, I want to see how the baby is developing. It’s already been more than a month.”

Ling’er’s face turned red. “It’s been little more than a month. Why would you need to check how it’s developing?”

Feng Jiuxiao’s expression did not change as he said: “I want to feel the baby grow. This is the right that a father should have.”

Ling’er knew how important it was for a child to have a father figure in their life and stopped protesting.

She stared at the ground, urging, “Hurry up. I want to read our child a bedtime story.”

“Okay.” Feng Jiuxiao lifted her effortlessly, carrying her in a bridal hold. Instinctively, she looped her arms around his neck, stabilising herself. Feng Jiuxiao used his foot to close the door behind them before heading to the adjacent breakroom. He moved in a steady gait but with a sense of urgency.

Ling’er felt her cheeks burn as she snuck a glance at Feng Jiuxiao. He was calm, his face an expressionless mask, and it puzzled her. “What are you doing?”

“It’ll be more convenient to check on the baby with you in bed.” Feng Jiuxiao gently laid her on the small bed. His cold, somewhat aloof eyes bore down on her quietly.

Feng Jiuxiao was not sure how he was supposed to feel, his emotions a tangled mess. Ling’er could not bear the intensity of his stare and averted her eyes, hoping Feng Jiuxiao would hurry up and finish his inspection so she could leave.

“I love you.” The words rang crisp and clear in the awkward silence.

Though Feng Jiuxiao was as cold and indifferent as ever, he could not be more serious.

Ling’er was stunned for quite a while. It was her first time hearing him profess his love for her so plainly. In the past, he would only answer when she asked him, and never more than one word.

…

Qin Shu was in a bad mood. Her father had refused to help her recover her memories. Sitting on a rattan chair under a tree in the courtyard, she stared up at the dense foliage, considering her options.

She was waiting for a message.

It had been a while since they left Mongolia, and she still had not received word from Yin Shi.

Could it be that Chao Yan had not been found?

Dinner was a quiet affair. She did not utter a word and excused herself immediately after the meal concluded.

All the adults knew the reason for her reticence. Only Xiao Jiu was left in the dark.

Fu Tingyu put down his bowl and chopsticks and looked up at his parents-in-law. “Mother, Father, I’ll see how she is.”

His parents-in-law nodded in tacit understanding. Fu Tingyu excused himself and rushed after his wife.

Seeing their son-in-law chase their daughter, Feng Jiuxiao and Ling’er looked at each other and sighed. There was nothing they could do in this situation.

…

Qin Shu fell asleep quite quickly and had a long dream. It was about Chao Yan.

The dream was so realistic that it might as well have happened.

Qin Shu jolted awake. When she opened her eyes, she saw Fu Tingyu watching over her. His dark eyes were clear, untouched by sleep. He did not look like he had just awoken. She did not know how long he had kept a vigil over her.

Fu Tingyu noticed his wife had woken up and asked worriedly, “You’re awake. How do you feel?”

Qin Shu edged closer to Fu Tingyu, muttering, “I had a dream. I dreamt of Chao Yan.”

Vague images flickered in her mind, restless fragments of her dream. The longer she tried remembering them, the clearer they became and soon, every word and action seemed so real that she could not distinguish dream from reality.

Fu Tingyu cradled his wife, hugging her protectively. If he said he was not jealous, he would be lying. Who would not be jealous when another man occupied their wife’s dreams?

“Did you remember something?”

It took her a long time to digest the memories and what they showed her. Had it not been for Fu Tingyu’s presence, she would have floundered, lost in the sea of her consciousness.

She nodded. “Mm. Father restored my memory.”

She spoke with confidence. Other than her father, no one else around could have restored it.

Fu Tingyu brushed a few stray locks aside as he comforted her. “How could your father not feel sorry when you look like this?”

Even as master and disciple, Feng Jiuxiao had always had a soft spot for Qin Shu. He could not bear seeing her suffer. Qin Shu had her father wrapped around her finger. A few tears and a woe-is-me expression were all it took for Feng Jiuxiao to cave in.

Now that he knew she was his daughter, Qin Shu’s power over him had increased, and the mere thought of making her unhappy made his heart bleed.

Feng Jiuxiao appeared late the previous night while she was sound asleep, saying he would restore her memories.

Fu Tingyu had never witnessed the process before, and it was an eye-opener. Seeing an Emperor-level martial artist at work was a rare opportunity. The skills they used to slow ageing, erase people’s memories, and even restore what was lost… if he could grasp even a fraction, it would be enough.

Qin Shu wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck, burying her face in his chest so he would not see how devastated she looked. Fu Tingyu rubbed slow circles into her back and asked, “What’s wrong?”

She remembered everything about Chao Yan.

It was just that her mind was a mess, and she needed time to sort everything out.

Still, those fragments she could make sense of were enough to pain her for a very long time.

She remembered that autumn, the one she promised to celebrate Chao Yan’s birthday with him. She had even wanted to prepare a gift for his birthday.

He said that no one had ever celebrated his birthday since he was young because his birthday was the anniversary of his mother’s death, and his father would treat him coldly.

“Baby treats me the best. What’s mine is yours,” he said.

But she broke her promise.

Her mother brought her away. They departed from Mount Qi, and she forgot all about him, her memories sealed away.

With Chao Yan’s character, he would have kept waiting. He would have waited for her to celebrate his birthday with him.

She could not imagine how he must have felt. For someone to raise his expectations, only to be stood up at the last minute.

Even the Crimson Sand Organisation was because of her. He had taken her words seriously and built up an empire, an organisation of trained assassins for hire.

He had kept the promises he made, but what of her?

She promised to celebrate his birthday with him and did not live up to her word.

She promised to be his eyes for as long as it took for him to see again.

She promised to be by his side at the tender age of eighteen, but that she never fulfilled.

She failed him at every turn, at every promise she had ever made.

Only now did Qin Shu understand why Chao Yan wanted to be by her side.

He had always been alone. Even the servants who cared for him kept their distance, doing the bare minimum of preparing his three meals a day.

Perhaps she had not known before, but now it was clear how lonely he must have been, sitting as if he were invisible to the world.

No one talked to him. No one bothered with him.

He had once said that the world was comprised of greys and black.

Back then, she had not understood what he meant.

She entered his world, teasing him, hoping to draw him out of the world he had hidden in. Not once considering how her actions would impact him in the years to follow.

She coaxed him out of his shell and encouraged him to interact with critters big and small.

If others were to describe Chao Yan’s personality, they would depict him as a man of few words, bloodthirsty, and temperamental.

When unhappy, he would kill anyone who so much as annoyed him without batting an eye.

Qin Shu recalled hearing how he had wiped a village off the face of the earth. People feared him, not daring to approach lest he turn against them as a monster would.

This was how others saw him, but not her. Chao Yan had never behaved in such a way before her.

Though he was not the chattiest person around, often sitting still like a statue, he never bared his fangs her way.

Whenever she noticed him unhappy, she would give him candy and accompany him.

Qin Shu thought about Chao Yan’s request. All he had asked was for her company, to give him a reason to continue living as she had done so many times in the past.

He had asked this of her with a child’s innocence; he did not expect anything fancy in return, just the comfort of sharing his time with her.

If only she had done as he asked, he would have been happy.

… But she did not comfort him and even called him disgusting.

What was the difference between her and those who pushed him into hell?

No. She was worse than those mongrels. She gave him hope only to snatch it away ruthlessly, stepping on his trust and thrusting him back into that world he hated.

How crushed must he have felt by her words that he would venture off alone?

Fu Tingyu knew something was wrong, but he did not know how to help her. After regaining her memories, she curled up in his arms, turning wholly unresponsive. At first, he thought it was fatigue ailing her and that she needed rest, but it was becoming obvious something deeper was troubling her.

Half an hour passed, and Qin Shu showed no signs of sleepiness. Instead, her breathing grew heavier, each breath more laboured. He felt his shirt dampen, causing him to stiffen in panic.

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

He tried to extricate himself from her grip on him. He wanted to know what was wrong with her and why she was crying.

Qin Shu did not let go. She kept mum, not out of want but necessity. She did not know what to say, and even if she had some clue, she could not bring herself to say it, knowing how damning it would sound. Chao Yan merely wanted a farewell hug, but she cruelly rejected him, snubbing and calling him disgusting.

Worst of all, she had said that she would only give it to him if they became friends again the next time they met.

How would there ever be a next time when he had given up on living?

To think she had said they were not friends…

Chao Yan promised he would never appear or disturb her again. He was a gentleman through and through, and a gentleman’s word is a promise.

How heartbroken must he have been then?

Was that when he resolved himself to leave alone? Surviving in obscurity or death… were they the only options he saw?

Fu Tingyu felt like he was about to die from worry. How long had it been since Qin Shu cried like this? He cupped her face in his hands, realising how quickly they were drenched in tears. He froze. If he had known she would react like this, he would have stopped his father-in-law, no matter the cost. Nothing was more important to him than his wife’s happiness.

“Babe, don’t cry… Everything will be alright.”

Qin Shu could not help herself; her tears seemed to have a life of their own, flowing down her cheeks in endless streams. She felt sorry for Chao Yan, but more so guilt for her part in his suffering.

Nothing she did could make up for the empty promises she made her in youth. Chao Yan’s life was a constant string of disappointments, and she had failed him when he needed her most.

Fu Tingyu did what he could: he patted her back, whispering soothing words to stabilise her emotions.

While worry was at the forefront of his feelings, jealousy burbled in the rear. Qin Shu was crying because of another man.

He now understood why his father-in-law had been so reluctant to help Qin Shu remember the past. His reluctance sprang forth from a desire to shield her from sorrow.

Qin Shu still had not settled her emotions when Feng Jiuxiao and Ling’er visited later in the day.

Fu Tingyu had spent all this while holding her, offering her a shoulder to cry on.

Qin Shu’s eyes were swollen by the time she stopped crying, the sight of which was torture upon Fu Tingyu’s heart.

Fu Tingyu took a long shower to freshen up after that painful ordeal. He met with his father and mother-in-law to share what had transpired when Qin Shu woke up.

Even Fu Tingyu did not realise how sour his tone was.

Ling’er and Feng Jiuxiao finally understood why Chao Yan did not want Xiao Bao to remember anything about him. He was probably afraid that Xiao Bao would be distraught.

Qin Shu stepped out of her room, and when she saw Feng Jiuxiao and Ling’er, she smiled. “Mother, Father, why are you here?”

Ling’er saw that her daughter’s eyes were red and swollen and could not help but eye her worriedly. “I came to see you. I heard from Tingyu that you cried all morning… What do you plan to do now?”

“It has been a few days, and I still haven’t heard from him. I want to look for him. I still have things I need to say to him,” Qin Shu said.

Fu Tingyu was jealous. He was between two minds. On the one, he wanted nothing to do with Chao Yan, while on the other, he wanted to know the cause of his wife’s tears. If he did not know the kind of relationship they shared, how was he to do anything?

“What if he won’t see you when you find him?”

Qin Shu answered with great certainty, “He won’t turn me away.”

Fu Tingyu was so jealous. “Are you so sure?”

Qin Shu nodded. “Yes.”

Fu Tingyu almost died from jealousy. “I want to know why you treat Chao Yan so well.”