One and Only

Chapter 5: The Past Life in This Life (2)

Due to her "peculiarities," Shi Yi had never been particularly close to her parents since childhood, making her the odd child in the family's eyes. Even at six or seven years old, her strange remarks had prompted her mother to secretly take her to see a psychologist. Of course, only a handful of people knew about this. Otherwise, distant relatives might have gossiped behind their backs.

Her mother had worried a great deal because of her. Shi Yi was well aware of this.

As an adult, she began making conscious efforts to respond emotionally. Occasionally acting coquettish over the phone gradually became a habit, allowing her to pour the affection from two lifetimes into her present parents. That was why she had asked Zhou Shengchen to wait—for her mother's sake.

Her mother didn’t say much, only expressing concern that Shi Yi had been calling less frequently lately.

Though not explicitly stated, Shi Yi knew her mother was worried she might be experiencing "hallucinations" again.

After reassuring her for a while, she finally ended the call.

Switching back to Zhou Shengchen’s line, she said, "I’m done."

"Just finished work?"

"Yes," she laughed. "That’s why I missed your call."

"If it’s convenient, would you like to grab a late-night snack together?"

This was the first time he had taken the initiative to invite her.

Without hesitation, Shi Yi agreed, "Sure."

"Tell me your address."

She recited it to him.

"I’ll let you know when I arrive. Don’t wait outside beforehand."

"Okay."

She sat down on the hallway sofa. The recording studio staff had already started packing up, leaving only two workrooms still lit while the rest had gone dark. People kept leaving, nodding at her in farewell, but she simply held her phone, wondering why Zhou Shengchen had suddenly reached out. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find an answer.

Maybe he was just passing by.

Zhou Shengchen arrived at the underground parking lot quickly. When Shi Yi stepped out of the elevator, she saw him standing alone outside, waiting for her.

He looked like a completely different person—wearing impeccably tailored white trousers, a light-checkered shirt, and even a blue casual blazer. It was an unexpectedly stylish outfit, overturning her previous impression of him in a lab coat. His taste was impeccable.

He had poise, but not the kind that felt ostentatious. The latter would have seemed frivolous, whereas he struck just the right balance.

She stared at him in disbelief, slowly walking over until she stood before him.

Those clear eyes met hers in return.

He smiled. "Surprised?"

"Very," she said, studying him. "The way you look today feels like it perfectly matches your name."

"Matches my name?"

"Zhou Shengchen," she murmured. "This is exactly how someone with that name should feel."

Zhou Shengchen.

The same name, in that historical era, should have carried this very essence. Not just in appearance, but in spirit.

He chuckled but didn’t comment, though he found her words amusing.

"Why did you wait for me here?"

"My car is parked quite far. I was afraid you wouldn’t find it."

"I come here often—I probably know this place better than you do."

He smiled. "It’s past midnight, and there are only two security guards here. Weren’t you worried about running into trouble?"

Such a scientist’s habit.

Had he really noticed, just from a brief visit, that there were only two guards in the parking lot?

Shi Yi pressed her lips together, amused. "Thank you."

As they walked over, a middle-aged gentleman stood waiting by the car. Shi Yi hadn’t noticed him until they approached, and the man suddenly greeted her with a smile, "Hello, Miss Shi."

"Hello," she replied, glancing at Zhou Shengchen.The latter had already opened the car door for her.

She never expected that a casual late-night meal would reveal a different side of him—his dignified demeanor, this car, and even a private chauffeur. Though curious, she refrained from probing further and only took a careful look at the driver after the car left the parking lot.

The man in the driver’s seat appeared to be around fifty, his gloved hands steady on the wheel. He wore a well-tailored suit of fine fabric, every detail meticulous. He seemed like someone who had been in service for many years.

As the car moved forward, the elderly driver only asked once if they needed water.

Zhou Shengchen declined.

The silence was palpable. Shi Yi stole glances at him, thinking she ought to say something. "You look like you just met someone important?" Zhou Shengchen nodded. "A few elders."

Shi Yi nodded in return.

Any topic directed at him seemed to warrant only a brief reply, leaving no room for elaboration.

She turned to gaze out the window, unable to suppress a smile.

Zhou Shengchen, you really are an odd one. Good thing I don’t mind.

Despite having lived in this city for so long, she had never been to the restaurant they were heading to tonight.

It was more like a private courtyard.

People were already waiting, guiding them inside, serving tea. Some even moved behind the screen, adding incense, trimming candlewicks, and bringing dishes in and out.

Her curiosity grew as she watched the silhouettes beyond the screen. Softly, she murmured, "At this midnight hour, have we stumbled into some enchanted realm?"

"I simply guessed that someone who enjoys reading 'Three Words and Two Slaps' might appreciate a place like this."

She laughed. "I really do like it. But 'Three Words and Two Slaps' is just a collection of stories—nothing to boast about. Some prefer modern literature, others classical. Just different tastes."

A glimmer of amusement flickered in Zhou Shengchen’s eyes. "Sometimes, I find similarities between you and me."

"Such as?"

He admitted frankly, "I enjoy collecting Wu songs' embroideries."

Shi Yi was momentarily speechless. After studying him for a moment, she chuckled and turned back to the silhouettes beyond the screen. "That’s not the same at all. Your hobby... is quite unique."

If it were Hong Xiaoyu, she’d probably think the term "Wu songs" sounded refined just by its name.

But Shi Yi knew a bit more. For instance, Wu songs were often elegant yet risqué verses, intimate poems of the boudoir. Though they emerged around the same time as the "Book of Songs," they were—well, certainly never featured in school textbooks.

Clearing her throat, she changed the subject. "Is your lab work usually very demanding?"

"Not too bad," he said. "It depends on the field. There aren’t many women in my area."

"Why?"

"It’s hard work."

Any further questions would only highlight her lack of expertise, so she tactfully dropped the topic.

When it came time to actually eat, the two exchanged few words, yet the silence wasn’t awkward.

"Speak not while eating, nor while resting" had been her habit since childhood.

It sounded well-mannered, but to her extended family, it was rather peculiar. During holidays, adults would seat all the teenagers around a small round table, where laughter and chatter filled the air—except for her. She would quietly finish her meal, sip her soup, then set down her chopsticks and wait patiently until everyone else was done before leaving the table.At first, she was praised for being so well-behaved, but gradually, she became known as the "odd one" among her cousins and was privately labeled as an arrogant little girl.

Back then, she didn't understand tact.

As she grew older, she had to adapt to society—like joining in casual chatter with other girls during meals in the school cafeteria or engaging in small talk during occasional dinner gatherings after starting work.

After all these years, this was truly the first time she had met someone with the same habits as her.

And the happiest part? That person was Zhou Shengchen.

Throughout the meal, he only used the wooden chopsticks from the pastry box to serve her a piece of drunken crab roe before switching back to his own chopsticks to continue eating. Shi Yi smiled at him, suddenly feeling that this scene was strangely familiar. Many memories had long since scattered, but every one of his actions made her feel a sense of déjà vu.

At some point in the past, in some place, this exact scene must have played out before.

Zhou Shengchen escorted her to her residential complex but didn’t let the driver enter. Instead, he got out of the car and walked her to the building’s entrance. "For the next three months, I’ll be traveling between Zhenjiang and Shanghai," he said.

"Zhenjiang?"

"Yes, Zhenjiang. Is that strange?"

"Not really. My father’s ancestral hometown is Zhenjiang," she replied with a smile. "Though we rarely go back, hearing the name still feels familiar."

He chuckled. "What a coincidence."

"Yeah, really coincidental," she said, then couldn’t help but ask curiously, "Still not used to using a personal phone?"

"Not quite," he admitted with a smile. "But the number in your phone can always reach me."

She nodded.

Then, silence fell between them.

The night-shift security guard sat in the lobby. He recognized Shi Yi—a striking beauty—but this was the first time he’d seen her with a man, and he couldn’t help stealing curious glances their way.

"I’ll go now?" Shi Yi finally broke the silence.

"Alright. Goodbye."

She turned to search for her access card in her bag, but before she could, the door beeped open. Startled, she heard the guard’s voice calling her in from behind the glass door and realized what had happened.

Shi Yi suddenly turned back to look at Zhou Shengchen and repeated, "I’m leaving."

She could practically imagine the reluctance written all over her face.

Zhou Shengchen gave a faint smile. "Goodbye."

She saved his number but never reached out.

She figured she was still wary of the "fiancée" she’d overheard about. After twenty-some years of life—from childhood to an ordinary woman—she had at least learned to face reality.

Her only wish had been to see him again.

Even a wish with odds of one in a hundred million had come true. Asking for more would be pure greed.

Not long after that night came Qingming Festival.

Since her grandfather had passed away the previous year and was buried in Zhenjiang, Jiangsu, this year’s Qingming naturally required a visit to sweep his grave. Around five in the morning, her father drove over with her mother to pick her up.

Bleary-eyed, Shi Yi sat in the backseat, leaning against her mother, drifting in and out of sleep. Nearly three hours later, they were still stuck on the Shanghai-Nanjing Expressway. From predawn darkness to bright daylight, her mother kept chatting with her, likely to prevent both backseat passengers from dozing off and leaving her father, the driver, at risk of fatigue-induced danger.Of course, ever since graduating from university, nine out of ten conversations revolved around marriage.

"Have you met anyone recently?"

"No," Shi Yi leaned against her mother's shoulder, mumbling, "No, no, no..."

"Can't find someone you like?"

She stayed silent.

Her mother noticed something was off: "Did you meet someone?"

"I did," she smiled, "but he might be getting married soon?"

Her mother frowned slightly: "Did you meet him at work?"

Her father also glanced at them through the rearview mirror.

Only then did Shi Yi realize her words sounded like the typical family drama plot where a beautiful woman interferes in someone else's relationship. She quickly shook her head: "I just met someone and felt a bit of a connection, but nothing else happened."

Both parents sighed in relief.

She rested her head against the car window as her mother continued lamenting how raising an overly beautiful daughter was exhausting. Ever since Shi Yi was in middle school, her mother had worried about boys harassing her, personally driving her to and from school. Fortunately, Shi Yi seemed to have no interests beyond reading and playing the guzheng.

So her mother only needed to guard against external threats, not worry about her daughter running off with some troublemaker.

"Sometimes, your mom is quite conflicted," her father added with a laugh. "She worries your standards are too high and you'll never marry, but also fears that because you're so beautiful, some wealthy and powerful man might trick you into something bad."

Shi Yi smiled faintly: "That won't happen. I don’t care about money."

Someone who had witnessed the cycle of life and death wouldn’t be enslaved by such things—otherwise, that trip to the underworld would have been for nothing.

When they reached the toll station, they finally saw the source of the traffic jam. Three entire toll exits were cordoned off, one left empty while the other two lanes saw a steady stream of luxury cars passing through.

"VIP vehicles?" her mother asked her father.

"Probably not," her father suddenly recalled what her uncle had mentioned earlier. "Now I remember—Shi Feng said that for the past ten days, wealthy businessmen have been coming and going from Zhenjiang for some investment project."

Her mother was even more puzzled: "What kind of major investment project could Zhenjiang possibly have?"

"It's not investing in Zhenjiang itself, just that the conference is being held here," her father explained briefly. "China has the lowest labor costs in the world, so many multinational companies set up factories here and export overseas. That’s why the Yangtze River Delta is the most developed manufacturing hub."

Shi Yi chuckled: "Hence the origin of 'Made in China.'"

"Pretty much," her father, a university professor, naturally had a lot to say on the subject. "But in recent years, wages here have risen sharply, and many companies have started moving to Southeast Asia. As a result, smaller businesses have been shutting down one after another. I estimate that in five years, the manufacturing industry will face a massive upheaval—mass unemployment, factory closures, economic tremors in the Delta, which will inevitably affect the entire country."

"Alright, alright," her mother rubbed her temples, "what does this have to do with the traffic jam?"

"That’s why they’re inviting all these wealthy investors," her father laughed. "This is the charm of economics—you predict a crisis years in advance and then find ways to mitigate it before it even happens."

"Very far-sighted," Shi Yi remarked."Not only must one have vision, but also the capability to attract more investments," her father concluded.

Shi Yi responded with an "Oh," adding, "And a conscience, to save the national economy."

"Right, conscience."

The father-daughter exchange thoroughly amused their mother.

During their conversation, several black sedans approached from a distance. Moving at a leisurely pace—far from the typical speed on a highway—yet other cars politely made way for them.

The vehicles passed through the only unoccupied exit.

The license plates flashed by too quickly for Shi Yi to see clearly, but she couldn't shake the feeling they resembled Zhou Shengchen's cars.

Chatting along the way, they finally exited the highway.

By the time they reached the cemetery, it was already past nine. What should have been a two-hour drive had taken four. The visit to the graves was brief, as her parents had come mainly to meet with her father's uncles and cousins. Among these elders, her youngest uncle was the most well-off, owning several manufacturing factories, and naturally took on the role of hosting the relatives.

While the elders chatted in the living room, Shi Yi, bored, wandered into her cousin's room.

The high school girl was diligently studying but brightened upon seeing her, eagerly pulling her in to help with an essay topic. Glancing at it, Shi Yi found it fittingly related to Qingming Festival.

After some thought, she outlined a draft for her cousin.

As she set down the pen, her gaze caught on a few invitation cards tucked in the corner of the desk.

These were for the event her father had mentioned earlier—a glamorous guest list dominated by multinational corporations, many unrelated to manufacturing. Though Shi Yi usually paid little attention to such affairs, the watermark on the invitations caught her eye.

A multi-colored woodblock print.

Specially carved for the invitations, hand-printed.

However, the one in her hands was merely a printed replica, not the original version meant for the financial magnates, but a peripheral copy.

What intrigued her most was the watermark—a small seal script character: "Zhou."

Zhou, not Zhousheng.

Yet why did it remind her of him?

Her thoughts drifted to that late-night encounter with Zhou Shengchen—understated yet distinct.

"Cousin, your phone," the girl murmured, head still bent over her work. "It's ringing."

Snapping back to reality, Shi Yi picked it up, her heart fluttering slightly.

With her cousin present, she skipped clearing her throat and answered directly.

"Miss Shi, hello." It was the driver's voice from last time.

"Hello," she replied, already accustomed to this manner of communication.

Zhou Shengchen soon took over the call. "Apologies, I'm not very adept at making phone calls."

She gave a soft "Mm." "It's fine."

"In Zhenjiang?"

"Just arrived. How did you know I was here?"

He chuckled. "I knew the moment you passed the highway toll station. I just couldn't find the time to speak with you earlier."

(End of Chapter)