Jiang Xie insisted on talking, and Tang Shi had no choice but to agree. He led her to a restaurant where a man, already seated, broke into a grin. “Damn, you leave with one and come back with another. Jiang Xie, you trying to screw yourself into an early grave?” “If your eyes are that bad, Fu, I can book you an optometrist,” Jiang Xie retorted, rolling his eyes in distaste. “Or maybe you just don’t recognize who this is?” The man, Fu, narrowed his eyes, studying Tang Shi. “She does look… familiar,” he drawled. Jiang Xie pulled Tang Shi into a seat beside him and cut straight to the point. “Ye’s ex-wife.” “Damn.” Fu Muzhong nearly sprayed a mouthful of coffee. He managed to choke it down, his eyes fixed on Tang Shi. “Miss Tang?” “I am,” Tang Shi replied, her voice cool and detached, yet it carried an undeniable weight. “Are you… all right?” None of them, his closest friends, had seen the catastrophe coming five years ago. Just like that, Bo Ye had sent Tang Shi to prison, branded a murderer, with no chance… no room for appeal. But looking at the woman before him now, five years later, Fu Muzhong narrowed his eyes. It felt as though Tang Shi had changed, and yet, she hadn’t. What remained was that air of cool, noble grace; even after five years in prison, she was still the brilliant and breathtaking heiress of the Tang family. But her eyes… her eyes had changed. They were like those of a withered elder, devoid of life, a landscape of pure desolation. As if she held no hope for the world at all… It made a bleak sort of sense, Fu Muzhong mused. He let the silence hang for a moment before finding an opener. “So… A’Xie… why did you bring her here?” Jiang Xie glanced at Tang Shi, his tone cautious. “I… I did a little digging. About you. Is Dawn your professional name, Tang Shi?” “Dawn?!” Fu Muzhong’s voice shot up. “You mean *the* Dawn? The phantom designer… Tang Shi, is that you?” Tang Shi’s gaze turned guarded, her brows knitting slightly. “I'm afraid not.” “But…” Jiang Xie’s eyes widened in disbelief. “How can that be? My source was clear it was you…” “Then your source was wrong,” Tang Shi said, lowering her chin slightly, revealing the pale, smooth skin of her neck. “I’m not Dawn. Are you looking for her?” Fu Muzhong pressed his lips together, silent for a long moment before speaking slowly. “My company has a project we’d like her to design…” “In that case, I can give you her contact information,” Tang Shi said flatly. “For real?” Jiang Xie still couldn’t quite believe it. But if she could provide contact information, then she really couldn’t be Dawn. Could his intel have been wrong? Fu Muzhong had no choice but to follow up. “Then we’d appreciate that. If you need anything, you can reach me at the number on this card.” He produced a business card and handed it to her. Tang Shi accepted it gracefully before rising to her feet. “Was there anything else?” “No, that’s all. Should I give you a ride?” “Not necessary.” Tang Shi lowered her gaze, slipped her hands into the pockets of her trench coat, and strode towards the exit on her long legs. “Damn…” Jiang Xie muttered, watching her leave. “So cold. You’d think five years in prison would knock the attitude out of someone.” Fu Muzhong narrowed his eyes again, taking a sip of his coffee. He offered a thoughtful, final judgment. “An Mi can’t hold a candle to her.”