Chapter 11: Fu Zhewei’s Family Heirloom for Her

The matter was settled just like that.

After dinner, Jiang Yubai volunteered to do the dishes.

Lin Jianxue took a shower, changed into a loose cotton nightdress, and walked into the bedroom. While drying her damp hair with a towel, she took in the surroundings of the room.

The room wasn’t large, but it was tidy and well-kept.

A wooden double bed, an old five-drawer dresser, a desk, a chair. A faded family portrait hung on the wall—she was still a little girl with braided pigtails in the photo, snuggled beside her parents, smiling with innocent joy.

It had been half a month since her rebirth. Being back in this house, filled with memories from her childhood and girlhood, still felt surreal.

In the 1970s, the Lin family’s life in Kyoto was quite privileged.

Her father, Lin Yuefeng, was the director of the Kyoto Steel Plant, earning 90 yuan a month.

Her mother, Shen Wu, was the dean of instruction at Kyoto No. 1 High School, a 23rd-level administrative officer, making 55 yuan a month.

As for herself, she had earned a spot in the Kyoto Art Troupe the previous year as a pianist, with a salary of 35 yuan a month.

In those days, most workers made just over 20 yuan a month. Anyone earning over 30 yuan was considered well-off.

Together, the three of them were earning what some households wouldn’t make in a whole year. It was a life most would envy.

At a time when even ten-thousand-yuan households were rare, the Lin family’s wealth was remarkable—and widely envied.

And yet, with all this, their downfall came at the hands of Jiang Yubai and Jiang Yuning—two heartless opportunists—until their home was destroyed and their lives in ruins.

You could say the Lin family had lived such a smooth and fortunate life that they’d never even considered how cruel people could be. And that’s why they were ultimately bled dry by Jiang Yubai, the parasitic live-in son-in-law who not only took everything, but still felt they were in his way.

The thought made Lin Jianxue’s gaze grow cold.

She sat on the edge of the bed and opened a drawer in the nightstand, pulling out a small iron box.

The box was old, with rust on the corners, but polished clean.

Lin Jianxue gently opened the box. Inside lay a postcard of Kyoto’s scenic beauty and a jade bracelet of translucent, vivid green.

The postcard featured Weiming Lake at Kyoto University—serene waters, surrounding mountains, and weeping willows, brimming with scholarly romance.

The handwriting on the postcard was elegant and bold, full of youthful flair:

“Deskmate, reading this feels like seeing you.
Thanks for letting me copy your homework.
Happy 17th birthday.
Farewell.

—Fu Zhewei”

That was the birthday gift Fu Zhewei had sent her through a mutual classmate the year she turned 17.

Back then, the Fu family was already in trouble, with rumors flying around the tenement buildings that they were going to be sent down for reeducation.

Fu Zhewei, probably afraid of bringing her trouble, didn’t attend her birthday party in person. Instead, he had someone deliver this postcard and jade bracelet.

Lin Jianxue picked up the bracelet and studied it under the light. The jade was flawless—smooth, delicate, deep green, and glowing with an ethereal sheen.

In her previous life, after divorcing Jiang Yubai, she used up all her savings trying to support Jiang Chen.

At her lowest point, she didn’t even have money for his school fees.

Out of options, she gritted her teeth and took the bracelet to a pawnshop.

The shop owner—a shrewd middle-aged man with gold-rimmed glasses—looked her over, examined the jade carefully, and said slowly, “Nice bracelet. But times are tough. Stuff like this doesn’t go for much. I’ll give you 50,000 yuan at most.”

Fifty thousand yuan was a fortune to the desperate Lin Jianxue back then. After hesitating, she accepted and sold it.

Later, she saw a sensational news piece on TV: at Sotheby’s Hong Kong, a jade bracelet named Chun Dai Cai (Spring Brilliance) had sold for 150 million HKD—breaking all auction records for jadeite.

On the screen, the bracelet shone under the spotlight.

She recognized it instantly—it was the same one Fu Zhewei had given her.

She hadn’t known its worth and had foolishly pawned a priceless heirloom for pennies.

Now, staring at that same bracelet again, Lin Jianxue was overwhelmed with guilt and regret. A deep ache spread in her chest.

She recalled how, in her last life, when she was terminally ill, dying alone in a sanatorium, Jiang Yubai and Jiang Chen avoided her like the plague. Jiang Yuning sneered at her from afar.

Only Fu Zhewei had come—bringing his adopted son, Fu Yansheng, to see her—staying by her side through her final days.

They hadn’t seen each other in over 20 years, yet in her darkest moment, he gave her warmth and dignity.

Lin Jianxue had always been someone who repaid kindness.

In her previous life, Fu Zhewei had sent her off with dignity. That debt, she would never forget.

Now, with this second chance at life, she would repay him well.

This bracelet—clearly a Fu family heirloom, worth a fortune—was not hers to keep.

Once she was done dealing with the Jiang family’s mess, she would return it to Fu Zhewei personally.

Taking a deep breath to calm her turbulent emotions, Lin Jianxue carefully placed the postcard and bracelet back into the box and locked it.

Just as she was about to return the box to the drawer, the bedroom door creaked open.

Jiang Yubai stepped in, freshly showered.

He wore a white Dacron shirt, collar casually open, revealing smooth collarbones and a glimpse of pale chest. His wet hair clung to his forehead, drops trickling down his face, giving his handsome, refined features an added allure.

His eyes immediately locked onto Lin Jianxue sitting by the bed. Something darkened in his gaze.

Lin Jianxue’s beauty was the kind that overwhelmed.

If Jiang Yuning was a budding white rose—pure and innocent—then Lin Jianxue was a blooming red rose—vivid and irresistible, impossible to ignore.

Her features were sharp, elegant, laced with pride and allure.

Even in her loose cotton nightgown, her graceful figure could not be hidden—full chest, slim waist, long legs—every curve perfectly balanced.

She was born a siren, designed to awaken a man’s most primal instincts.

Though Jiang Yubai didn’t love her, even he had to admit: her face and body could tempt any man.

No wonder Jiang Yuning always felt threatened, terrified that he’d be seduced by Lin Jianxue.

Previously, out of fear she might get pregnant, he’d restrained himself from getting too close to her. After all, she was just a pawn in his plan—he couldn’t allow her to bear his child and compete with Jiang Yuning.

But now, Lin Jianxue had already drunk the “contraceptive tonic” he prepared. Pregnancy was no longer a risk.

Jiang Yubai’s thoughts stirred.

He closed the door softly, walked to the bed, and gently took Lin Jianxue’s hand in his palm, caressing it.

A faint blush spread across his scholarly features. His voice turned low and tender:

“Jianxue… it’s been a while since we were close. My mom’s been hoping for a grandchild too…”

Lin Jianxue looked at his fake affectionate expression and felt a wave of nausea.

Without changing her expression, she calmly withdrew her hand and said coolly—but in a way he couldn’t argue with:

“Yubai, let’s wait a bit before having another child. Xiaohu’s still so young. How can your mom manage two kids on her own? Don’t you agree?”