As soon as the words fell, footsteps gradually approached, and a face I had met once half a year ago peered in from behind the screen—it was Rong Wanqing’s fiancé, Duan Wenshu.

“Uncle.”

He stood beside the sofa as if he had lost his soul. 

His attire was still as presentable as when I first met him, but his eyes were red-rimmed—he had obviously just been crying. 

The blow he had received was too great, and even his reactions were somewhat sluggish. 

He only kept apologizing to Rong Zheng in a humble and submissive manner: “I’m sorry, it’s my fault for not taking good care of Wanqing. If only I had stayed with her longer at the sanatorium that day…”

“That’s enough.”

Rong Zheng sighed. “What’s the use of saying all this now?” He gestured with his chin toward the adjacent seat. “Sit.”

Duan Wenshu sat down as instructed, only then noticing Yu Baijin and me sitting across from him. He recognized me. 

“You—aren’t you Wanqing’s bodyguard? What are you doing here? Do you know where she went?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here.”

I knew he didn’t welcome me. 

Back when I was assigned as Rong Wanqing’s bodyguard and was about to go abroad with her, he had the strongest objections. 

It wasn’t hard to understand—anyone who learned that their fiancée would be traveling with another man and would be in close proximity with him for half a year would feel angry and dissatisfied. 

But constrained by his future father-in-law’s arrangements and his own dignity, on the verge of parting, he only said to me weakly, “You can’t bully her…”

I lowered my head to drink tea. Beside me, Yu Baijin crossed his legs, draped his arm across the back of the sofa behind me, and said with great interest: “So you’re Wanqing’s fiancé. Pleased to meet you, pleased to meet you. She mentioned you.”

“And you are?”

“Not worth mentioning.”

Yu Baijin shrugged. 

Duan Wenshu looked completely confused but still politely extended his hand to shake, wanting to ask more questions, but was interrupted by Rong Zheng.

“What did the sanatorium say?”

“I’ve smoothed things over with the police station. The police have already secured the scene and are currently investigating everyone who entered her room that day. Results should come soon.” 

He answered in a string of words, his expression earnest.

To be fair, Duan Wenshu was good-looking, well-educated and refined, a man of talent—the second young master of the Duan Financial Group. 

He and Rong Wanqing were childhood sweethearts, what people call a betrothal from infancy. 

The two families were well-matched, knew each other well, and the engagement had been set since childhood—a political marriage that was beneficial and harmless to both sides’ status and power.

I never inquired about or commented on my employer’s private life or the so-called grudges of wealthy families, and Rong Wanqing rarely mentioned it either. 

In such matters, non-opposition was equivalent to tacit consent. 

She was a person who understood the bigger picture and knew that this marriage had extraordinary significance for her and her family that far exceeded her individual choice. 

As for Duan Wenshu, “He’s indeed very good to me, just a bit immature and not very brave, none of which I dislike.” She said, “He’s more like my family.”

“Spending your whole life with your own younger brother doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

But before getting married, she wanted to take a look at the world outside. 

How could Rong Zheng not gladly agree to his daughter’s small wish?

“Blame me?”

Rong Zheng slammed his palm on the corner of his desk. 

The secretary immediately stepped forward to support him, reminding him to watch his blood pressure. 

“It’s because I wasn’t thorough enough, never thorough enough. I wish I could keep her under my nose every day, follow her wherever she goes, afraid she might come to harm… Her mother died early, she’s my only daughter.” He swallowed two blood pressure pills with warm water. “I’m suffering more than anyone!”

“The day before yesterday at noon, I went to have lunch with her… I accompanied her on a walk in the courtyard for a while, then I returned to the company. My father called me to meet some clients.”

Duan Wenshu inserted both hands into his meticulously combed hair, trying hard to recall the details of that day. 

“We chatted, everything was normal. She couldn’t have run away from home without any warning. She must have been kidnapped…”

As if frightened by his own speculation, he gripped the trembling teacup in his hands tightly. 

“Her identity is already sensitive. Someone must have overheard and wanted to use her for extortion…”

“You said the police are at the sanatorium?”

Yu Baijin and I exchanged glances. 

“Then the two of us will make a trip there. We’ll contact you immediately if we find anything.”

“You two?”

Duan Wenshu stood up following us. 

“What gives you the right…”

Rong Zheng held him back.

“I owe her a debt.” I said.

***

Despite his reluctance, Duan Wenshu still showed the magnanimity expected of a fiancé and exchanged contact information with Yu Baijin and me, promising that both parties would communicate immediately once valuable information was obtained. 

“Mr. Yu is the first witness and should naturally go to the scene to assist the police. I shouldn’t obstruct that… Moreover, you’re Wanqing’s friends. You’ve been implicated because of her situation and are still willing to help. I’m very grateful.”

His spirits were low as he saw us out of the Rong family’s mansion. 

At the heavily guarded gate, he bid us farewell and gave us his business cards, like a child forced to become an adult too early, clumsily imitating the cumbersome etiquette between adults. 

“This afternoon I’ll make another trip to the police station to push them on progress. If Uncle shows up, it’s easy for the media to photograph him. He—he’s already overwhelmed right now. If we’re talking about enemies, he has far more enemies… “

He smiled bitterly. “Wanqing and I experienced a similar incident when we were children.”

“What?”

“The two of us were kidnapped together… so that was my first reaction.”

***

Yu Baijin and I drove away from the Rong residence, driving for more than twenty minutes on the mountain road. 

At noon, the sunlight was intense, illuminating the entire city in minute detail. 

Yu Baijin rolled down the car window to look at the scenery as if nothing had happened, his black hair blown askew by the wind. 

I asked him: “Do you have any leads?”

“So rich people’s kids really do get kidnapped every few days.” He said.

“…Never experienced it.”

I turned the steering wheel, avoiding a bright red convertible at the bend. “What were you like as a child?”

“Me? An orphan, grew up in a welfare home, adopted at age nine.”

He spread open his fingers covered with gun calluses and reached toward the air, as if catching the wind. “And you?”

“About the same as you.”

I suddenly wanted very much to smoke, to hit the brakes, to lose my temper at someone without regard for consequences, but my impulse vanished as quickly as the wind passing through his fingertips. 

I often felt that my body was like an empty shell—good or bad, all without reservation. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but that I couldn’t.

“But this is the first time you’ve been curious about my past.” He said. “I thought you didn’t care.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t care.” I said. “I just suddenly realized that we actually don’t understand each other at all, do we?”

“So what?”

The car drove out of the long tree-lined road. 

Sunlight suddenly poured down, leaving no time to dodge. 

My eyes were dazzled for a moment. I looked toward the rearview mirror and collided with his gaze without any defense, knowing full well that what lay ahead was a disaster, yet there was nowhere to hide.

He said to me: “What I want is your future.”

***

After going down the mountain, we drove five more kilometers south, bypassing a large cluster of Western-style buildings with retro and distinctive designs, and arrived at the sanatorium where Rong Wanqing was staying. 

It was said to have been renovated from a post-war site. 

The geographical location was excellent—far from the downtown bustle, with a quiet environment and good privacy. 

Those who came and went were all high-ranking officials or people with special titles. 

It was with this in mind that Rong Zheng had greeted the director in advance, allowing people like Yu Baijin and me—who obviously had unclear backgrounds—to enter smoothly without attracting too much suspicious attention.

It was lunch break time. Most people were napping in their respective rooms. 

There were only a few elderly people taking walks in the courtyard. 

The corridor was long and quiet, cool and ventilated year-round, with mottled shadows of plane trees swaying on the walls.

Rong Wanqing lived on the third floor. 

The director personally took us there. As we passed the staircase landing on the second floor, Yu Baijin, who was walking on my left, suddenly glanced diagonally behind me. 

I also sensed something and, following the direction of his head turn, briefly but clearly caught a glimpse of a fleeting figure.

Someone was following us.