[“Luo Siyu! Someone’s here to see you!”]

Zhou Leqi planned to confirm her findings by returning to City A as soon as possible. She contacted Yan Lin, asking if he had time to accompany her back. The Haoting case had been tried at the Intermediate People’s Court of City A, and the case files were still stored there.

Yan Lin agreed but said he couldn’t make it for a few days. He suggested she go first, and he would follow two days later.

She agreed.

On Saturday, May 29th, Zhou Leqi boarded the train from Beijing to City A alone.

The distance between Beijing and City A wasn’t very far—it only took about three hours by high-speed rail. However, in these seven years, neither Zhou Leqi nor her mother had returned to the city. For them, it carried too many painful memories. They sold their small house in the development zone, severing all ties with the place.

As she sat on the train, Zhou Leqi’s emotions were complex. Watching the scenery rush past outside the window, the landscape gradually morphing into the familiar geography of her childhood, it felt as though time was flowing backward. Yet, inevitably, she was returning to the place she had once fled.

Upon arrival, she saw the renovated train station—it was newer and more modern than seven years ago. Following the crowd out of the station, she spotted a figure outside the ticket gates that was both familiar and distant.

...It was Zhou Lei.

They hadn’t seen each other for many years, and Zhou Lei had changed significantly. At over fifty, his hair was almost entirely white, and he had gained weight, making him look much older. In the crowd of people waiting to greet arrivals, he immediately spotted Zhou Leqi. His expression initially brightened, but then he became awkward and hesitant, as if afraid to approach his daughter.

Zhou Leqi frowned, feeling discomfort rise within her. Still, she dragged her small suitcase toward Zhou Lei and greeted him first, saying, “Dad, why are you here?”

Time works wonders in moments like this.

Seven years ago, how could Zhou Leqi have called Zhou Lei “Dad”? Back then, even seeing the word “Dad” in a reading comprehension passage made her feel uncomfortable. But now, she could address him politely, though deep down, this man had become a stranger to her.

To Zhou Lei, hearing her call him “Dad” was both surprising and unnerving, leaving him flustered and stuttering. As he awkwardly tried to take her suitcase, he said, “You… you said you were coming back… so I thought… I’d come to see you…”

A few days earlier, Zhou Leqi had indeed reached out to Zhou Lei—but not to reconnect or visit. Her goal was to inquire about Luo Siyu, Zhou Lei’s stepdaughter. She had discovered that part of Runyuan’s suspicious 3 million yuan investment had eventually been transferred to Luo Siyu’s account. She needed to find her and uncover the truth behind the transaction.

To Zhou Leqi’s surprise, Zhou Lei hadn’t been in contact with Luo Siyu for a long time either. Five years ago, he divorced Gao Xiang, and custody of their disabled child went to the mother. All Zhou Lei had to do was pay child support.

His life had also taken a downturn. It seemed divorce had become a recurring theme in his life. This time, to cover child support, he finally sold their house in Butterfly Bay, giving half the money to Gao Xiang and her daughter and buying himself a smaller apartment. Meanwhile, his career was nearing its end. As a soon-to-be-retired employee relegated to secondary status at his company, his salary had decreased, and no subordinates fawned over him anymore. His life had become cold and lonely.

...All self-inflicted consequences.

And since Zhou Lei had fallen out with Gao Xiang, naturally, he no longer cared what Luo Siyu was doing. However, he still managed to gather some information. A few days earlier, he sent Zhou Leqi a message with an address—where Luo Siyu currently lived. Upon receiving the message, Zhou Leqi quickly returned from Beijing. She had to meet Luo Siyu in person.

At that moment, Zhou Leqi skillfully avoided Zhou Lei’s attempt to take her suitcase. Zhou Lei grew even more awkward, unconsciously rubbing his hands against his clothes as he looked at Zhou Leqi with a nervous expression. He hesitantly asked, “Qi Qi… how long are you staying this time?”

“Just a day or two,” Zhou Leqi replied indifferently. “I’ll leave after meeting Luo Siyu.”

Zhou Lei paused, then nodded, continuing hesitantly, “…What do you want to see her for?”

When he mentioned Luo Siyu, his expression was deeply nuanced. He clearly tried to maintain a calm demeanor, but his eyes betrayed lingering disgust, as if recalling some terrible memory. Though Zhou Leqi’s face remained impassive, inwardly she sighed. Once upon a time, how much did he adore Gao Xiang and her daughter? He even abandoned Yu Qing and divorced her for them. And now, after such a short time, those treasures of his had turned into unwanted garbage.

She sighed inwardly, her tone remaining level as she answered, “Nothing important. Just a small matter.”

Clearly unwilling to elaborate further.

Zhou Lei knew he didn’t have the face to pry into his daughter’s affairs. Feeling awkward, he followed Zhou Leqi out of the train station, trying to engage her in conversation along the way. He asked about Yu Qing’s well-being, where she planned to stay during her visit, and whether she had time to eat a meal with him.

Full of subtle flattery and attempts to ingratiate himself.

Zhou Leqi didn’t slow her pace, only glancing at the man beside her whose hair had already turned gray. Of course, remnants of sadness and hurt lingered in her heart. But she knew—she would never forgive him in her lifetime. She would always remember Yu Qing’s late-night sobs and the sight of her lying on the floor, surrounded by scattered white pills.

“No need. I’m taking a taxi now. My schedule is tight.”

Once again, she rejected Zhou Lei, adding a sincere yet detached blessing.

“Take care of your health, Dad.”

“Be happy.”

With that, she walked briskly out of the station.

Finding Luo Siyu’s home wasn’t difficult. It wasn’t far from the train station. Zhou Leqi had arrived at 11:30 AM, and by 12:30 PM, she had found her place.

It was an old residential complex, likely built in the 1990s. Tall and equipped with elevators, each floor housed over ten units. Walking into the hallway, she saw small advertisements plastered everywhere. The floor was pitch black, probably due to years of neglectful cleaning.

She arrived just in time for lunch, when every household was cooking. The hallway was filled with the smell of grease. Zhou Leqi carefully navigated through the cluttered public space, finally locating Room 1610 according to the address Zhou Lei had provided.

She pressed the doorbell, but it was broken and didn’t make a sound. She knocked instead, but there was no response for a long time. She knocked harder and louder, and eventually, footsteps approached from inside. A shirtless man opened the door, bleary-eyed, and asked, “Who is it?”

Zhou Leqi didn’t recognize this man—his name was Ding Peng.

Thinking Zhou Lei might have given her the wrong information, she furrowed her brows slightly, avoiding the bare-chested man in front of her, and politely asked, “Hello, I’m looking for Luo Siyu. Is she here?”

The man grunted and shouted loudly, “Luo Siyu! Someone’s here to see you!”

...His voice echoed so loudly it could be heard clearly from outside the building.

After shouting, he didn’t leave, standing by the door and starting to appraise Zhou Leqi. Her elegant attire and demeanor stood out starkly against the old, greasy environment, and she was undeniably beautiful. Ding Peng couldn’t help but stare, even whistling flirtatiously at her.

At that moment, another set of footsteps approached from inside, accompanied by an impatient complaint: “Who is it?”

Before the words faded, she appeared at the door.

It was Luo Siyu, now 25.

Her features hadn’t changed much from her teenage years, but her expression had shifted significantly, becoming sharper and more aggressive. Gone were the traces of feigned innocence and quietness from her youth. Her outfit was peculiar—cheap plastic slippers on her feet, but her clothes bore the large logos of luxury brands. Her ears were adorned with exaggerated accessories, and five of her ten fingers were adorned with rings.

She was likely preparing to go out, already wearing makeup. Rough foundation, heavy eyeshadow, exaggerated fake eyelashes, and lipstick so red it caused visual discomfort—her appearance was far from everyday makeup, exuding an indescribable sense of cheapness and vulgarity.

When she saw Zhou Leqi, her expression instantly changed—her eyes widened in shock, as if seeing a ghost. There was an unmasked look of embarrassment and shame, but she instinctively straightened her posture, caught in the complex contradiction of wanting to avoid being seen while also wishing to flaunt her superiority.

In contrast, Zhou Leqi’s emotions were simpler. She merely nodded at the familiar figure before her and said, “Hello, sorry to disturb you.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting together in a café.

By this time, Luo Siyu had changed into shoes with 9-centimeter heels covered in flashy fake diamonds. She elegantly held the coffee Zhou Leqi had ordered, her demeanor haughty. She frequently glanced at the fake watch on her wrist, pretending to be busy as she asked, “What do you want? If you have something to say, hurry up—I’m busy.”

Zhou Leqi, who was truly busy, appeared calm. She smiled politely at Luo Siyu and said, “I do have a small matter to ask. Since you’re busy, I won’t beat around the bush.”

With that, she took a receipt from her handbag and pushed it toward Luo Siyu.

Luo Siyu glanced at Zhou Leqi, her eyes filled with suspicion and caution. After hesitating for a moment, she picked up the receipt and unfolded it. Rows of numbers stared back at her, incomprehensible as if written in a foreign language.

“What is this?” Luo Siyu furrowed her brows.

“A record of fund transfers,” Zhou Leqi explained calmly.

“Fund transfers?” Luo Siyu’s brows knitted even tighter. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

At this point, she grew impatient. Her fragile pride seemed to have suffered a blow, infuriating her. She glared at Zhou Leqi, raising her voice: “Can you just spit it out? Why are you speaking in riddles?”

This was an unfounded accusation, but Zhou Leqi didn’t intend to argue. She continued, “This is a record from seven years ago. Funds were transferred out of Runyuan Company and eventually landed in your account.”

Zhou Leqi’s gaze suddenly sharpened. “My question is, what exactly did you do seven years ago that prompted a company to go through so much trouble to give you a commission of 100,000 yuan?”

“Slam.”

The coffee spilled.