Secretary Shen glanced at her through the rearview mirror. Zong Ying remained expressionless. Once he averted his gaze, she lowered her head and took out her phone.
She opened the news app, quickly scrolled backward, and found yesterday’s financial headline: "Lü Qianming Increases Stake in Xinsi Pharma Again, Holdings May Surpass Top Shareholder Zong Qinglin." She swiped to the comments section at the end, searching for a particular reply—but it was gone.
Zong Ying frowned. She tapped on the top-rated comment and scrolled through the replies one by one, yet still couldn’t find that sarcastic remark. She was certain she had seen it yesterday while waiting at the airport.
The gist of it was something like: "Who knows if Xing’s sister is truly aligned with Zong Qinglin’s family?" But now, it had been silently erased—
Just like the discreet removal of the scenic area ticket.
Zong Yu’s protective charm was obtained from Mount Emei, and Secretary Shen or someone close to Lü Qianming had coincidentally returned from the same place. It might have been dismissed as mere chance, but this sudden concealment revealed a sliver of suspicion.
If Zong Yu’s mother and Zong Qinglin weren’t aligned, then who was she aligned with?
Lü Qianming?
Zong Ying stared silently at her phone screen. These two clues alone might not definitively prove an affair between Zong Yu’s mother and Lü Qianming, but they strongly suggested a hidden connection—perhaps a transaction, or a consensual romantic relationship, carefully kept under wraps.
What were these two planning? Did Zong Qinglin know about it? And was it related to Xing Xueyi’s case?
Zong Ying pressed the power button to turn off the screen and pursed her lips as she looked out the window.
The rain grew heavier, its muffled drumming filling the car. A flash of lightning illuminated the trees along the road in an eerie green, only for them to darken again in the thunder’s wake.
Leaving the villa district behind, the car moved under dim streetlights. The city, bathed in rain, wore an unusual silence. As the night deepened, countless household lights flickered out, and the shifting decorative lights on buildings played out a silent pantomime.
Entering the downtown area, traffic lights became more frequent. When the car stopped at a red light, Zong Ying caught sight of a familiar figure in her peripheral vision. He walked briskly, braving the downpour as he crossed the wet crosswalk to the other side of the road.
Recognizing him, Zong Ying suddenly said, "Mr. Shen, let me out after this light."
Her request was abrupt, but Secretary Shen didn’t question it. Once the car stopped after the light, he handed her an umbrella just as she opened the door. "Be careful, Miss Zong."
Zong Ying took the umbrella with a quick thanks and hurried out. Turning back, she saw the familiar figure already far ahead along the street.
The pedestrian light to cross the road stubbornly refused to turn green. Unable to cross, Zong Ying quickened her pace along the same side of the street. By the time she reached the next crosswalk, she had finally caught up to his position on the parallel path. The moment the light turned green, she dashed across, breathlessly grabbing Sheng Qingrang, who was still walking through the rain.
Catching her breath, she shifted the umbrella to cover them both and met his startled gaze. "You were walking too fast."
Sheng Qingrang’s eyelids trembled almost imperceptibly, his words slightly disordered. "I walked fast because of the rain. It doesn’t rain where we are. I was busy and forgot to bring an umbrella."
His hair was damp with rainwater, lending him an uncharacteristic dishevelment. His hands were cold and wet.Zong Ying held onto that hand tightly, even tightening her grip as she pulled him toward the opposite subway entrance.
Hailing a cab was difficult in the rain, and the subway was still running at this hour, so she led him into the station. They bought tickets, passed through security and the turnstiles, and followed the signs to the platform, standing side by side among the damp crowd of late-night commuters heading home.
The subway roared out of the darkness like a beast but came to a docile halt.
The glass safety doors slid open, and everyone surged in at once, seats filling in an instant, leaving only a few scattered spots empty.
Zong Ying motioned for Sheng Qingrang to take a seat, but he lowered his head and murmured, "My clothes are all wet. It's better if I don't sit."
Squeezing next to someone while dripping wet was indeed impolite, and soaking the seats wasn’t proper either. She acknowledged his choice but suddenly tugged him aside, pulling him into the corner between the seats and the door. She raised her arm to brace against the stainless steel handrail, effectively trapping him in a quiet, undisturbed space.
Her hand rested beside him, her sleeve rolled up slightly. When Sheng Qingrang glanced down, he caught sight of the watch on her wrist, and the corner of his lips relaxed imperceptibly—he had been worried that the gift might have been inappropriate or too presumptuous, but now he could finally let go of that concern.
Yet when he lowered his head, his lips accidentally brushed against her hair, and his entire back stiffened instantly.
Sheng Qingrang didn’t dare move, gripping the long-handled umbrella Zong Ying had handed him. Rainwater dripped slowly from the tip, the sound of the rushing wind filling his ears as the train suddenly emerged above ground, raindrops streaking rapidly across the windows.
Zong Ying looked up and asked, "Did you sleep well last night?"
Sheng Qingrang snapped out of his daze and nodded.
She pressed further, "Where did you sleep?"
He pretended not to hear clearly.
Zong Ying continued, "In the recliner? I was a bit exhausted last night, drank too much, and might have said some nonsense or done something inappropriate. Please don’t take it to heart."
She spoke with apparent frankness, but her head turned slightly toward the right side of the carriage, her damp strands of hair swiftly grazing Sheng Qingrang’s face.
His grip on the umbrella tightened abruptly as the train jolted to a stop at the next station, his body swaying slightly. Zong Ying suddenly reached out to steady his back, saying, "This is the exit door." The moment her words fell, the subway doors slid open, the sounds of passengers shuffling in and out filling the air.
The sharp chime signaling the doors’ closure rang out, and the train prepared to move again. Zong Ying held his hand for balance, and Sheng Qingrang vividly recalled how she had held onto him the same way the night before—not too tightly, but firmly enough.
He said, "You didn’t say anything out of line, nor did you do anything inappropriate. You slept very soundly, Miss Zong."
Zong Ying lifted her gaze and countered briefly, "Is that so?"
Sheng Qingrang answered with slight unease, "Yes."
She fell silent, and though the train moved smoothly onward, she didn’t let go of his hand.
All the way to Jing’an Temple Station, Sheng Qingrang could only recall the warmth of her palm and the massive advertisements flashing by as the train sped along. Aside from the brand logos, one ad bore just eight words: "Witness history, seize the future." The umbrella had stopped dripping by then.
When they emerged from the subway, the rain had ceased.
On the way to Apartment 699, Zong Ying asked him, "Why were you in that place today?"
Fatigue laced his voice as he replied, "A Jiu fell ill. I went to buy medicine for him."Sick? Zong Ying walked silently to the apartment entrance, swiped the electronic access card, pulled open the door, and asked, “What’s wrong with her?”
Sheng Qingrang’s expression grew even more somber. “That child was never very strong to begin with. It might be a chill or an infection—she’s been running a fever, can’t eat, and has been coughing and wheezing badly.”
The motion-activated light in the corridor suddenly flickered on. Zong Ying pressed the elevator button and asked him, “Have you taken her to the hospital?”
He replied helplessly, “Not yet. Hospital resources in the concession are extremely tight right now. My doctor friend was killed in an air raid last month.”
That child had been brought into the world by her own hands. Hearing him speak so helplessly, Zong Ying couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety.
The elevator doors opened, but she didn’t step inside. Instead, she looked up at him and said, “Go upstairs first and take a shower. Don’t catch a cold yourself. I’ll go out for a bit and be right back.” With that, she pushed Sheng Qingrang into the elevator and hurried out the door.
As the elevator ascended, Zong Ying quickly made her way to the hospital and found Sheng Qiushi in the break room.
She got straight to the point. “Prescribe some medicine for me.”
Sheng Qiushi looked surprised. “What’s wrong? Was there an issue with the medicine this morning?”
Zong Ying shook her head. “No, it might be pediatric pneumonia. Can you help me get some medication?”
Sheng Qiushi said, “For pediatric pneumonia, hospitalization is best—”
“I know, but the situation is… unusual.” Her tone was earnest. “Please.”
Sheng Qiushi had just woken from a nap, his mind still foggy. In a daze, he helped her, and in a daze, he saw her off—without ever getting the chance to ask who exactly was sick or what made this case so special.
The only thing he was certain of was that Zong Ying seemed to be acting more and more suspiciously.
By the time Sheng Qingrang had finished showering and changing, Zong Ying had returned.
She sat at the dining table, writing out instructions for each medication before packing them together with the medicine she had bought earlier that morning. Finally, she assembled a medical kit. Sheng Qingrang sat across from her, watching her organize everything.
When she was done, she glanced at her watch—it was almost past midnight.
Worried she might not wake up early enough, Zong Ying handed the medical kit to Sheng Qingrang first. “From A Jiu’s symptoms, it’s likely pneumonia. I’ve included the relevant medication—tell Qinghui to follow the dosage instructions. There are also some emergency medical supplies in the kit that you might find useful. If there are any problems, let me know when you get back.”
After a moment’s thought, she pulled out the new phone from her bag and handed it to him. “I got you a new SIM card with my number saved in it. You can call me when you return. Remember to charge it regularly and turn it off when not in use.”
Zong Ying seemed to have absolute confidence in his ability to grasp things quickly. Without any demonstration, she finished her instructions in one breath, then got up to take a shower.
Exhausted, she lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. Images of Yan Man’s group photos with others flashed through her mind, followed by the effort to process all the people and events she had encountered that day.
Lü Qianming had been buying up large quantities of shares from the secondary market while she was divesting. At the same time, he seemed to maintain an unusual relationship with Zong Yu’s mother. Was his goal to seize control and influence over New Hope?
Zong Ying didn’t know when she had fallen asleep, but at 5:56 a.m., she was abruptly awakened by a phone call.
The voice on the other end was completely unfamiliar, and the question was equally abrupt: “Ms. Zong, may I ask if the reason for your recent large-scale divestment from New Hope shares is related to New Hope Pharmaceuticals’ involvement in falsifying clinical trial data for a new drug?”Data fraud?
Zong Ying was completely bewildered. She instinctively brushed back the hair from her forehead, got out of bed, and walked out while hanging up the call.
As soon as she opened the door, she saw Sheng Qingrang approaching, fully dressed.
He held a medical kit in one hand and her phone in the other, saying, "Miss Zong, there’s a call for you—just came in. It’s from Lawyer Zhang."
Zong Ying took the phone, and Lawyer Zhang asked, "Have you seen the news? Do you know about the clinical data fraud at Xinsi?"
"When was this reported?"
"Just now."
Zong Ying lowered her hand, and strands of hair immediately fell over her forehead. She softened her voice, "I think I understand. I’ll call you back later."
She ended the call, but the other phone in her hand began vibrating.
Like a floodgate opening, messages and calls poured in one after another, invading what should have been a peaceful morning.
After hesitating for a few seconds, Zong Ying quickly turned off the phone and grasped Sheng Qingrang’s hand—
She said, "I need to check on A Jiu."
The second hand of her watch clicked past the 12.
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