Volume One, Chapter 19: Who Exactly Is She?

After repaying Gu Zhiyan, Song Qinian felt a slight relief in her heart, but the burden did not lighten much. Her debt remained unchanged; it had simply shifted from owing Gu Zhiyan to owing Shen Keqin. For her now, earning money was the utmost priority. But before that, she had to make a trip to the prison.

Upon arrival, Song Qinian learned that the authorities had approved Song Guanliang’s application for medical parole. Overjoyed, she eagerly wrote on a piece of paper, “Which hospital is my father in now?”

“There is a dedicated prison hospital,” came the reply.

“May I visit him?”

“Sorry, that’s not allowed.”

Though slightly disappointed, Song Qinian was still glad her father’s illness would receive treatment. “Alright, thank you.”

On the way back, she pondered over who could have suddenly arranged for Song Guanliang’s medical parole. After much thought, only one person came to mind.

When Song Qinian returned home, Zhang Qiaoqiao told her Shen Chiyan was in the study. After knocking for a while with no response, she gently pushed the door open.

Inside, she found Shen Chiyan asleep on the study’s sofa. His sharp features, thick long eyelashes, high, straight nose, and flawless skin — untouched by any skincare products — were so exquisite that even his pores were invisible.

Only while he was sound asleep did Song Qinian dare to gaze at him without restraint.

Her greedy eyes settled on his sensual, thin lips — the very mouth that always uttered words that pierced her heart, yet when they kissed, it was soft and comforting.

He seemed to be dreaming uneasily, furrowing his brow in distress.

In Shen Chiyan’s dream, beside a serene and picturesque lake, he saw a girl in a white T-shirt with a low ponytail sitting and painting by the water’s edge. Her slender back was delicate, fully absorbed in her artwork as if oblivious to everything around her.

Just watching that silhouette made his heart race uncontrollably. He felt he had silently watched her many times, afraid to disturb the peace yet irresistibly drawn to approach.

Suddenly, the girl stood up, packing her painting tools. He caught a glimpse of the image on her easel: a bouquet of pale pink baby's breath.

She was about to leave. He stepped forward to follow, but though the distance was short, he couldn’t catch up.

He felt a strong affection for her, desperate to see her face, but despite running breathlessly, all he could see was her back.

“Wait for me! Don’t go!” he called out.

The girl abruptly stopped and slowly turned toward him...

But before Shen Chiyan could see her face, he jolted awake.

His eyes snapped open, and before him was Song Qinian’s pure, beautiful face.

For a moment, her face overlapped with the figure in his dream.

The next second, Shen Chiyan’s expression darkened. Furious, he pinned Song Qinian to the sofa and grasped her neck tightly. “What are you doing?”

Damn woman! If she hadn’t suddenly come close, he would’ve finally seen who the girl in his dream was.

He had been having this dream for half a year, but never once caught sight of the girl’s face.

This time, just as she was about to turn, Song Qinian had ruined it!

His dark eyes were sharp and cold as ice. Song Qinian was frightened; just moments ago, she had been beguiled by his handsome features and had foolishly tried to steal a kiss, only to be caught red-handed.

Her mind raced, and she brightened with an idea. She immediately signed, “There was a mosquito trying to bite you. I was helping to swat it.”

Shen Chiyan sneered, “You can even make up such nonsense? Do you take me for a three-year-old?”

“I’m not lying. If I hadn’t helped, you’d have a big bite mark on your face.”

Of course, Song Qinian dared not confess the truth — that she had wanted to steal a kiss. If Shen Chiyan knew, it would be disastrous.

If not for Shen Chiyan’s habit of pressing his thumb when lying, her innocent, sincere face might have fooled him.

Shen Chiyan’s cool thumb brushed heavily against Song Qinian’s soft, warm lips, the corner of his mouth curling into a cold smile. “Such filthy tricks might work on others, but I only find them disgusting.”

Song Qinian’s face instantly turned pale as paper, her heart feeling as if it had been thrown into a meat grinder, the pain unbearable.

Seeing Shen Chiyan about to leave, she suddenly blocked his path, urgently signing, “You’re the one who arranged my father’s treatment, right?”

Mentioning Song Guanliang darkened Shen Chiyan’s mood even more.

Song Qinian hurriedly signed, “I wanted to thank you...”

Before she could finish, Shen Chiyan cut her off with a smile. “I think you’ve misunderstood. I arranged your father’s treatment not out of concern for his health, but because... he ruined Qiutong so badly. How could I let him die so easily?”

Though smiling, there was no warmth in Shen Chiyan’s expression — only a chilling dread.

“I will make sure your despicable father lives a life worse than death.”

Worse than death — such a terrifying phrase.

Song Qinian knew Shen Chiyan was capable of carrying it out. Her strength seemed to drain away instantly, and she collapsed weakly to the floor.

That morning, she had been overjoyed that her father was getting treatment, planning to thank Shen Chiyan and maybe find a way to see her father.

Now, he had ruthlessly plunged her into hell, making her painfully aware of how laughable her hopes and expectations were.

Shen Chiyan looked down on her without a shred of mercy. “You’d better pray Qiutong wakes up soon. Only then will you and your father suffer less.”

As Shen Chiyan stepped out of the villa, his phone rang.

“Fifth Master, the custom whistle shop has news. They say you showed them a photo of a girl that day and said the whistle was for her.”

Shen Chiyan’s face darkened. “What kind of girl?”

“They said you cherished that girl, but only briefly flaunted the photo before quickly hiding your phone, afraid others would look too long. So they didn’t get a clear view of her face. But their surveillance captured this moment, and I’ve sent the footage to your phone.”

His heart suddenly pounded wildly. He had lost that period of memory, always believing the whistle was meant for Lin Qiutong.

Yet lately, he kept dreaming of a delicate, refined silhouette that stirred both joy and bittersweet longing in his heart.

He didn’t know if that figure was Lin Qiutong, only that she was very important to him.

Seeing the footage might unravel all the mysteries that had plagued him.

With a deep breath, Shen Chiyan solemnly and expectantly opened the surveillance footage sent by Gao Kunlun...