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“The time is up.”
Chen Shuoyin heard the reminder and snapped out of his unserious tone. She nodded at the police officer behind her, got up, and lightly tapped the table twice. “It’s too creepy. Better not.”
Zhou Qi had been waiting outside for a long time. He opened the car door and picked her up. “Sister-in-law, you can’t go back for now.”
Seeing Chen Shuoyin’s stunned expression, Zhou Qi explained, “Brother Pei’s family wants to meet you. They have intervened in the mediation after learning about this matter, but—”
“I understand. Just do as they say.”
It was a two-hour drive from Tanzhu to Licheng. Zhou Qi drove into a suburban riverside villa, where the housekeeper came out to open the car door for Chen Shuoyin. “Miss Chen, please come inside.”
The interior courtyard followed a traditional Chinese garden style. As soon as she stepped into the living room, the sound of flowing water from the backyard reached her ears. Unlike Pei Yu’s understated luxury, every detail of this residence exuded extravagance.
Chen Shuoyin glanced around briefly before withdrawing her gaze. She walked past a long corridor to the waterside pavilion by a small pond. The night lights glowed in a warm orange hue. A woman in a silk beige long dress stood with her back to her, holding a porcelain teacup in her hands, swirling the misty tea within.
“Madam,” the housekeeper called out.
The woman slightly turned her head. Her elegant demeanor kept her posture perfectly upright. Her face was fair and smooth, showing no traces of age. However, the pair of watery eyes—identical to Pei Yu’s—made it difficult to meet her gaze for long.
The woman naturally took Chen Shuoyin’s hand. “Yinyin, sit.”
Chen Shuoyin nodded politely. “Hello, Auntie.”
The woman kept a gentle smile, as soft as moonlight. “Why still call me Auntie? Call me Mom. If that’s too much, you can call me by my name—Zhang Jingyi. That’s what that brat loves to call me. Makes me feel like we’re the same age. Keeps me young.”
Chen Shuoyin had never met such an easygoing and carefree woman among people of this generation. She felt like a student caught daydreaming in class, her eyes flashing with unease. “Auntie…”
“Alright, alright, I won’t tease you.” Zhang Jingyi held her teacup delicately as she poured tea for her. “No need to be nervous. I originally planned to meet you when Ah Yu formally brought you home, but he gave me so many warnings in advance. Then he got arrested halfway, and as his mother, I naturally got anxious. I hope you understand.”
Chen Shuoyin accepted the tea and glanced around. “His aunt came to see me.”
“Don’t worry, she’s not here.” Zhang Jingyi noticed her wariness. “Did she threaten you?”
Chen Shuoyin’s silence confirmed Zhang Jingyi’s suspicion. “Back then, Pei Yu was just a child. A director friend of mine said he had great screen presence and recommended him for a small movie role. It was just for fun at first, but he kept going down that path. His aunt claimed she was worried about him and voluntarily became his agent, taking over his work. None of us expected her to turn on him and use a child as leverage.”
“Come with me.”
Zhang Jingyi led her upstairs. This grand house didn’t favor dim lighting—its corridors were designed to let light in from all directions. Along the way, the walls were lined with family photos, Pei Yu’s paintings, and awards. One spiral corner had even been turned into a display case, filled with his trophies under a glass cover.
“This is his first solo photo from an ad. This one is from his first TV drama, where he played a shepherd boy. They had to shave his head and put on a wig. He cried on my leg for an entire afternoon before agreeing.” Zhang Jingyi introduced each one with a neutral tone, never overly glorifying him. The funny stories were plentiful, but the imagery was vivid.
By the end, even Chen Shuoyin couldn’t help but laugh.
Zhang Jingyi led her into Pei Yu’s room. It was bright and clean, filled with the scent of sea salt and citrus. As she rubbed her nose, she unintentionally looked up and saw a photo wall—identical to the one in Jiangyu Mingdi.
Only him and her.
But the photos were all from their school days. Most of them showed cold expressions, keeping a safe distance from each other, without any hint of intimacy.
Seeing her interest, Zhang Jingyi pointed to the bottom of a frame. A hidden mechanism was triggered, and a small cloth strip fell down with a soft click. On it was a line of printed text:
“Tanzhu’s 13th City Mathematics Olympiad—Pei Yu, First Prize. Chen Shuoyin, First Prize.”
Below that was a handwritten note: “Keep up the good work.”
Chen Shuoyin tried touching the others. Sure enough, they all had the same hidden design, each revealing detailed annotations.
A strange current tingled at her fingertips. Before she realized it, her heartbeat had climbed to her throat.
When she first heard from Liao Ya that her achievements were part of Pei Yu’s records, she didn’t feel much. After all, he was the type who had others handle everything for him. But now, seeing firsthand how he had meticulously labeled every single photo, the knots in her heart suddenly started to unravel.
“He always loved designing and building things—taking apart circuits, assembling machines. He was a natural. When he didn’t pursue that path, I even scolded him.”
Zhang Jingyi wasn’t surprised and smoothly shifted the topic. “I arranged for him to join a summer camp, even contacted professors at prestigious universities, hoping to send him abroad. But he lectured me instead. ‘Mom! Interests are just interests. I can do many things well in this life, but I’ll only ever be truly devoted to one thing.’ I wondered then, what could possibly make him so devoted?”
She glanced at Chen Shuoyin, her gaze meaningful. “Turns out, it was you.”
As a journalist, Chen Shuoyin had faced many unexpected and shocking live interviews. But no moment had ever made her lose her composure like this. She had no idea where to place her hands.
Should she refute it? Tell her that their relationship back then was terrible and that he only did this for comparison—to gauge his next strategic move? Or should she remain silent and let the misunderstanding persist?
Zhang Jingyi was patient with her awkwardness and gently held her hand. “His room is never locked. I watched him fill up this wall over time. And today, I finally get to meet you. That boy…”
“Auntie, I—” Chen Shuoyin bit her lip.
“You must be wondering why I’m telling you all this. He got the marriage certificate from me. We talked late into the night, and he assured me—he wanted to marry you and would never regret it.” Zhang Jingyi sighed helplessly. “As far as I know, he’s been in Tanzhu all these years. I’m sure he’s caused you and your family plenty of trouble. I should’ve come to find you myself, but I’ve been too tied up at home. In just a few hours, I have to rush back to work.”
She squeezed Chen Shuoyin’s hand. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“No, I haven’t,” Chen Shuoyin answered softly.
“We only have one child, and we’ve always indulged him. Since his father disappeared, I’ve poured all my energy into him, but I also worried he’d go astray. He is our treasure, but so are you. Yinyin, I’m telling you all this because I want you to step into his world and see for yourself. A one-sided pursuit can be a burden to the other person. I don’t know if this marriage was your choice, but this is your chance to make one.”
Chen Shuoyin’s thoughts were in turmoil. If Pei Wei wanted her to divorce him to sever his romantic ties, then why was his own mother offering the same option?
“Auntie, I don’t understand.”
“You will,” Zhang Jingyi let go of her hand. “I know him too well. He is a man of strong desires. Once he wants something, he’ll never let it go.”