What he truly wanted to ask was about her relationship with him, but the words that slipped out were far more diplomatic. A smooth talker like him would never be so direct. Shi Yu knew what he was getting at. “Yes, we’re very close.” Three simple words, offered with no further explanation. In truth, she didn’t know how to define her relationship with Jiang Yichen herself. She didn’t bother asking how Qin Feng knew of him. In a city like Jiangcheng, everyone knew the name Jiang Yichen. Sensing her reluctance to elaborate, Qin Feng didn't press the matter. When they reached the Jiang residence, Shi Yu got out and waved to Qin Feng and Qin Yu. “See you this weekend.” Qin Yu pressed her face against the window, her eyes scanning the sprawling Jiang residence. “You live in a place this huge and still have to work part-time?” she muttered. “Are you really that broke?” Shi Yu answered without missing a beat. “That’s right. Flat broke. If I don't work, I don't eat. Drive safe, you two. Bye.” Only after Qin Feng’s car disappeared down the road did Shi Yu turn to go inside. As she opened the door, she noticed Jiang Yichen wasn't home yet. He had left long before she did. Had he gone somewhere else? She didn’t dwell on it. Stepping inside, she flicked on the lights, their warm glow chasing away some of the loneliness. Just as she was about to head upstairs, the sound of a car pulling into the drive reached her. Jiang Yichen was back… Qin Feng had only just left. He must have seen his car. Still stewing over what had happened at the dinner table, she had no desire to face him. She went straight to her room, grabbed her pajamas, and headed for the bathroom to take a bath. Watching the tub fill, the pink bath bombs dissolving into a rich foam, was a strangely fascinating process—or at least a way to kill the long, lonely hours. Once the water was ready, she eased herself in, letting her mind go blank. An immense wave of fatigue washed over her. She was just drifting off when the bathroom door was thrust open. Her eyes flew open, locking with Jiang Yichen’s deep, unreadable gaze. Her mind went blank. “Do you need something?” He remained in the doorway, neither retreating nor advancing, his expression completely inscrutable. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “Come to my room when you’re done.” And without waiting for a reply, he turned and was gone. The request was loaded with implications, and Shi Yu’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Only after convincing herself that he hadn't been drinking tonight did she finally get up and dress. She found his door ajar but hesitated to enter. Instead, she gave a light, almost symbolic knock. “I'm here. What did you want?” Jiang Yichen sat in a chair by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his profile to her. He was gazing out at the darkness. It would take a pair of eyes that could see through anything to find meaning in that void. “Your mother’s,” he said, his voice flat. “Take it.” He gestured with a flick of his hand toward a sandalwood box on the low table before him. The box was small and unassuming, its wood darkened with age. At the sight of it, Shi Yu’s heart plummeted. She rushed forward and cradled the box in her hands. It was her mother's. The one thing she had carried with her through all their years of wandering, no matter how difficult things got. It had to contain something precious to her. After her mother died, the box had vanished. She had searched for it, eventually assuming it had been buried with her. To think it had been in Jiang Yichen’s possession all this time. She felt no anger at him for keeping it for so long. The simple joy and relief of having it back eclipsed everything else. She clutched the box to her chest as if it were the most precious treasure in the world. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she fought them back, refusing to cry in front of him. Her voice was a choked whisper. “Thank you…”