Bai Wanjun fell silent for a moment. After a while, she gritted her teeth. “Shi Han is our biological daughter. We should at least check with her first, so no one can accuse us of neglecting our parental duties.”

Father Shi also fell silent.

…….

Shi Han settled into the guest room. She went in to take a shower and changed into clothes from her suitcase.

She pulled out her laptop and opened it, half-reclining on the bed. The screen flickered with lines of code as Shi Han accessed a system that couldn’t be monitored.

As soon as she logged in, a message popped up.

[Bandit, we’ve decided to buy your backend system. The price is ten million. Are you interested?]

It was just one of the little things she created when she was bored, but Shi Han agreed without hesitation.

Perhaps someone was monitoring her on the other end, because almost instantly after she replied, the next message popped up.

[Bandit, you have remarkable talent in computer science. Would you be interested in joining our company? The annual salary is fifty million. If you’re not satisfied, we can discuss it in person.]

[I’m not interested.]

Several more messages followed, each offering increasingly generous terms. Shi Han didn’t bother reading them. She simply shut the laptop.

She lazily crawled under the covers. Although she was tired, her mind kept circling back to the messages from just now.

“You have remarkable talent in computer science.”

Shi Han’s fingers brushed over her full forehead as memories of her childhood flooded back — memories of the fear she felt while lying on the experimental table.

She hadn’t been sold to another family when she was abducted as a child. Instead, she was taken to a private research facility.

Inside the facility, there were many other children, all of them brought in the same way she was.

They were subjected to injections, given medication, and had blood drawn every day.

Occasionally, she learned the true purpose of the experiment.

— The Superbrain Experiment.

It seemed that she had been one of the successful subjects. After the craniotomy, she hadn’t gone insane or died.

After she was rescued, she realized how different she was. Shi Han was incredibly intelligent — things that would take others a long time to learn, she could grasp in no time at all.

But life was fair. She had a fatal weakness: at random moments, she would forget certain things, certain people, and sometimes, even experience confusion in her memories.

Shi Han could sense that she had forgotten something important, but every time she tried to recall it, her mind was a blank.

A headache throbbed in her head.

She rubbed her temples and exhaled a slow breath.

Shi Han picked up her phone and scrolled through the pictures of her grandmother, trying to solidify her memories of her.

At that moment, the soft sound of a violin began to play, filling the quiet space.

Shi Han instantly recognized that it was Shi Yinyin playing the violin.

It had been two years, and the violin sound was finally reaching a level worthy of the stage — though it was still clumsy as ever.

And the fact that Shi Yinyin had chosen this moment to play in what used to be her bedroom was nothing less than a declaration of dominance.

Shi Han turned over in bed.

This family was unbearably dull.

If it weren’t for the fact that there were still people behind the lab experiment, people who were even investigating her existence, Shi Han wouldn’t have returned to this home. She wouldn’t have bothered to disguise herself as a college student.

It seemed she needed to transfer her household registration out of here sooner rather than later. Staying here made even sleeping feel restless.

Perhaps from sheer exhaustion, Shi Han closed her eyes for a while and soon drifted off to sleep. When she woke again, it was already nine in the evening.

She went downstairs and poured herself a glass of milk. Just as she was about to take a sip, Bai Wanjun came down the stairs. Seeing the milk in her hand, she snorted coldly.

“So now you want to win me over? You were so defiant when you came back at noon.”

Shi Han didn’t understand, but when she saw Bai Wanjun’s gaze fall on the glass, she suddenly remembered how, two years ago, she used to serve Bai Wanjun a cup of milk every evening.

Bai Wanjun had stomach issues, and Shi Han worried about her health, so every night, she’d bring her a warm cup of milk to help soothe her stomach.

Win her over? Perhaps two years ago, Bai Wanjun thought of it that way too.

=^_^=