Chapter 71: Did You Not See Me, Or Are You Pretending Not To Know Me?

At seven in the evening, the sky was dim, the last trace of light from the sunset fading from the horizon.

An abandoned old factory stood hidden amidst a chaotic patch of overgrown weeds.

A red Ferrari was quietly parked in the empty lot in front of the factory, half its body shrouded in the dark shadows of trees.

A slender figure stood beside the car.

Zhu Mingli slowly parked her car by the roadside, frowning as she pushed open the door.

“You’re early,” Jiang Se glanced at her wristwatch. “Still about fifteen minutes to go.”

Zhu Mingli scanned the surroundings before fixing her gaze on the derelict factory ahead, her expression cold. “Are you sure you want to talk here?”

“We’re already here. Are we supposed to change locations now?” Jiang Se dangled a key in her hand. “Let’s go in.”

Zhu Mingli didn’t move, hesitating as she looked at Jiang Se.

This was the place where sixteen-year-old Cen Se had been held captive for three days.

How could an ordinary person dare return to a place where they had been harmed?

Especially on such a pitch-black, eerie night.

Seeing that Zhu Mingli wasn’t following, Jiang Se didn’t rush her. She leisurely unlocked the rusted lock and pushed open the factory door with a creak.

“Come on, I’m not scared. What are you afraid of?” She glanced back at Zhu Mingli. “I was the one locked up here, not you. Are you feeling guilty or just scared? You dared to do it but can’t face it?”

Zhu Mingli let out a cold laugh.

From childhood, her tongue had always been sharper than anyone’s, yet she wore a mask of elegance and grace, hiding this side from others.

She strode forward, her high heels clicking sharply.

This was an electronic machinery factory, unlit, filled with nothing but a few rusted, unusable machines and an empty, cavernous darkness.

The only light came from the moonlight filtering through the tree shadows and windows.

“There are two offices inside the factory. Let me show you the one I stayed in back then.”

Like a host welcoming a guest, Jiang Se unhurriedly led Zhu Mingli deeper inside.

Zhu Mingli stood beside a machine, staring at a pitch-black room in the corner where you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. Her feet felt rooted to the spot, unmoving.

Only when Jiang Se glanced back did she take a deep breath and hurry over in a few strides.

The air she inhaled nearly made her cough.

The stale, dust-laden air carried a faint, strange odor.

Someone had died in this factory, in the very room Jiang Se was leading her to. Though it had been cleaned afterward, on a night like this, it was hard not to associate the odd smell with death.

Zhu Mingli’s footsteps halted abruptly at the office doorway.

She didn’t want to go in.

“Can we start now? That new friend of Yin Lin’s, you arranged it, didn’t you? Zhao Zhi?” She paused, suppressing the itch in her lungs and the chill spreading through her body. “Are you determined to drag Yin Lin into our business?”

Jiang Se didn’t answer right away, walking into the room on her own.

“What are you standing there for? Come in and sit. Don’t worry, someone died here, but it’s not haunted. I’d actually hope for ghosts—those two kidnappers died before I could settle the score with them. If they turned into ghosts, I might make sure they never find peace.”

She spoke as she slowly sat down in a corner.

Next to her, a yellowed wall had a palm-sized hole, likely made for an air conditioner in the past.

Pale, ghostly moonlight slanted through the hole, illuminating Jiang Se’s face.

Her deep, serene eyes gazed quietly at Zhu Mingli, her red lips curving into a perfectly measured smile, her face as pale as a handful of snow.

“This is where I lay back then,” Jiang Se said with a smile, enunciating each word. “For three days.”

“Cen Se.” Zhu Mingli instinctively crossed her arms. “The one who hurt you back then wasn’t me. It was Fu Yun.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here to discuss cooperation, isn’t it?” Jiang Se said. “If we were outside and you called me ‘Cen Se,’ I’d correct you—after all, I’m Jiang Se now. But here—”

She patted the dusty floor beside her, smiling. “In this room, you can indeed call me ‘Cen Se.’ Come in and sit. Standing’s tiring. That spot you’re standing on is dirty too—the first kidnapper died right there. Zhao Zhicheng killed him, and he was still breathing, crawling to the door before he died.”

Perhaps it was something in those words that struck a nerve. Zhu Mingli clutched her bag tightly, gritted her teeth, and walked into the room, sitting across from Jiang Se.

The strange, dusty smell grew stronger, and she couldn’t hold back two coughs.

Jiang Se, unfazed, spoke slowly. “How much do you know about Fu Yun’s affairs?”

“Back then, Fu Yun only asked me to find a way to make you show up at the art gallery on a certain day. Butler Yu was his man. Your family’s butler had once stolen and sold some small antiques when your grandfather was gravely ill, and Fu Yun caught him red-handed, using him to leak plenty of your family’s information. As for the three kidnappers who took you, I didn’t know them. I only heard the name Zhao Zhicheng once from Fu Yun’s mouth later. He said Zhao Zhicheng deserved to die.”

Zhu Mingli looked at Jiang Se. “That’s everything I know. Even if I hadn’t ruined your painting in the exhibition hall, Fu Yun would’ve found another way to lure you to the art gallery. He said he had you kidnapped to vent my anger, but do you believe that?”

“No, but you believed it back then, didn’t you?” Jiang Se smiled. “Don’t make yourself sound so innocent. By your logic, even if you hadn’t helped Fu Yun, you’d have found some other way to harm me, like that spiked cup of tea, right? We’ve never gotten along since we were kids, but I never imagined you’d hate me enough to want to ruin me.”

Zhu Mingli lowered her eyes briefly before raising them again. “Fu Yun is the one who truly hurt you. Aren’t we here to talk about cooperation?”

“Indeed, but you don’t seem to have an ounce of remorse. You harmed someone and won’t even let them talk about it?” Jiang Se leaned forward, raising her eyelids with a faint smile. “Why don’t you try lying here for three days? Or would you prefer your brother take your place?”

“Cen Se!” Zhu Mingli clenched her jaw. “My brother is innocent. You’ve already ruined his future.”

“Your brother is innocent, but sixteen-year-old Cen Se wasn’t?” Jiang Se laughed. “And your brother’s future—wasn’t that his own doing? Are you planning to hide him away? It’s useless. Zhao Zhicheng hid for years after leaving the brewery, but Fu Yun still orchestrated his death. Do you really think I was the only target in that kidnapping? Zhao Zhicheng was too.”

She pulled a stack of documents from her bag and tossed them at Zhu Mingli’s feet. “Open your eyes and see how many lives he’s got blood on his hands for.”

The papers hit the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. Zhu Mingli coughed a few times, suppressing the nausea rising in her chest. She turned on her phone’s flashlight and quickly flipped through the documents, her heart sinking with each page.

Jiang Se watched Zhu Mingli’s face grow paler. “Fu Yun is far more terrifying than you think. He even went after his own uncle. What’s a fiancée’s brother to him? You don’t know, do you? Your brother’s quite curious about Fu Yun’s past. When someone mentioned Bo County or the brewery, he asked a lot of questions. Want me to show you how much he’s been digging into Fu Yun’s business? Not just your brother—even you are half a step in the grave without realizing it.”

Zhu Mingli slowly set down the documents. After a long silence, she swallowed hard and softened her voice. “Keep Yin Lin out of this. You came to me because of Fu Yun, right? Tell me, what do you want me to do?”

Jiang Se quietly studied her eyes, illuminated by the phone’s flashlight, and smiled. “Do what you’re best at, of course.”

Zhu Mingli frowned, confused. “What I’m best at?”

Jiang Se chuckled softly, pulling a can of beer labeled “Jiagu” from her bag and setting it in front of her. “Fu Yun’s favorite beer. Ever tried it? If not, take it home and give it a taste. It’s my engagement gift for you and Fu Yun. As for what you’re best at, I’m not you, so I wouldn’t know. Go home, sip this beer, and think hard about what you do best.”

—

On the way back to Xinhe Mansion, the first spring rain of the year began to fall in North City.

Lightning flickered across the spine of the dark night.

Thunder rumbled low.

When Jiang Se got home, she went straight to the bathroom to shower, scrubbing for over half an hour until she was certain not a speck of dust remained. She emerged in a bathrobe.

Her hair had grown longer, hanging wet over her chest, water droplets rolling from the tips and soaking into the robe.

The spring rain fell gently, water streaking down the windowpanes.

Her thoughts drifted aimlessly.

When she snapped back, her gaze unconsciously landed on the leather suitcase on the bed.

She never burned incense.

The rich, musky scent of agarwood was unmistakable. Just crack the lid, and the fragrance would spill out.

Jiang Se walked over and opened the suitcase. The faint aroma climbed into the air, slowly seeping into her senses.

Just days ago, this subtle scent had felt sufficient.

But today, it wasn’t enough.

The incense burner was tucked beneath the agarwood cakes. Jiang Se stood by the bed for a long while before deciding to take out the incense box and burner.

The burner was only two palms wide, with elephant-ear handles and double rings, made of jade. Once the agarwood was placed inside, it soon released a soft, moist wisp of smoke.

The fragrance from the burner was warm and lingering. Within half an hour, the entire bedroom was filled with its scent.

Her phone, resting beside the burner, suddenly rang in the stillness.

Jiang Se glanced at it. It was Han Yin.

“Se Se, what are you up to?” Han Yin’s voice was gentle. “I just got back to North City. Are you free tomorrow? Come to Taoqing Garden and have dinner with Aunt Han. I’ll only be in North City for a few days before heading to South Guanyin Mountain.”

Taoqing Garden was Han Yin’s small estate on the outskirts of North City, complete with a horse ranch and golf course. She always stayed there when she returned to the city.

Jiang Se considered for a few seconds but before she could respond, Han Yin added, “It’ll just be the two of us tomorrow. Ah Yan said you’ve been busy lately and don’t have time to join us at South Guanyin Mountain. I won’t be back in North City until the Spring Festival. Who knows when we’ll see each other next?”

The words of refusal caught in Jiang Se’s throat.

She reached out to extinguish the incense burner and said, “I’ll come over for lunch tomorrow.”

The rain fell all night, but by morning, the sky had cleared.

The sky was a brilliant blue, and by noon, the sun was blazing.

Jiang Se joined Han Yin for a vegetarian meal and afterward sat with her in the tea room, sipping tea.

The tea room’s windows faced the golf course, where lush green grass stretched out, framed by the vibrant spring scenery.

Han Yin gazed at the greenery outside and smiled. “When you were little, I brought you here to ride horses. Do you remember?”

Jiang Se remembered, of course.

It was the summer when she was eight. There were many people that day. When the butler took them to the stables to pick horses, he quietly told them that the most ill-tempered horse was Lu Huaiyan’s favorite, named Chestnut.

Guo Qian, curious, dragged Jiang Se to see the bad-tempered black steed.

But the horse wasn’t as volatile as the butler claimed. When they approached, it gently nuzzled Jiang Se’s palm, docile and friendly.

Han Yin brought up Chestnut just then. “That was the first horse Ah Yan raised. He seems cold, but he’s more devoted to the things he loves than anyone. When Chestnut got sick, his grandfather wanted to replace it with a healthier one, but Ah Yan refused.”

Jiang Se sipped her tea quietly, not responding.

“Later, Ah Yan’s personality grew colder, and I, as his mother, bear much of the blame.” Han Yin’s eyes filled with guilt. “When I divorced Lu Jinzhong and left North City, what did you hear? That I was sick and had to leave to recover?”

Jiang Se held her teacup, glancing at Han Yin before nodding softly. “Mm.”

Han Yin set down her cup, smiling. “So that’s what they said. I suppose I was sick, in a way—a sickness of the heart.”

She rolled up her left sleeve, revealing a shocking web of old scars on her wrist.

“See this? The deepest one is from the day I tried to take my life. The others are from when my depression was at its worst, and I couldn’t hold back. The day I tried to die, Ah Yan stepped through a pool of blood to save me.” Han Yin sighed softly. “He was only eleven. When he came into the bathroom, his lips moved as he spoke to me, but I was nearly unconscious. I told myself I didn’t hear what he said.”

But that day, lying in the bathtub in her wedding dress, she had heard every word the young boy said to her.

“I’ve never forgotten what he said. He asked if he hadn’t done enough. He asked why I could die for Lu Jinzhong but not live for him. He asked if he was just something to be discarded.”

Han Yin’s eyes glistened with tears. “You don’t know how happy he was when he was with you, Se Se. If Ah Yan did something to upset you, let me scold him for you, okay? I’ll make him apologize. Please don’t be mad at him. He doesn’t say it, but I know he’s not doing well.”

Jiang Se was silent for a moment before shaking her head gently. “He hasn’t done anything wrong, and I’m not mad at him. Aunt Han—”

She gripped her teacup tightly and asked, “Is Lu Huaiyan on his way here?”

Han Yin’s eyes were still wet. “I didn’t tell Ah Yan you were here, but—”

Before she could finish, Jiang Se set down her teacup and stood abruptly. “I’ll take my leave, Aunt Han. I’ll visit you at South Guanyin Mountain when I get the chance.”

She couldn’t see him now.

She knew very well she couldn’t see him now.

Jiang Se hurried out of the tea room, her steps quick.

The butler, seeing her emerge, assumed she’d finished talking with Han Yin and said, “Miss Jiang, let me show you the way.”

Her car was parked near the golf course, and Jiang Se knew the way, but her mind was a tangle of emotions. Han Yin’s words echoed in her ears: *“He asked if he was just something to be discarded.”*

The butler, noticing her silence, took the lead.

As they neared the parking lot, they ran into someone coming out. The butler stopped and called, “Young Master.”

Jiang Se slowed her steps, looking up.

Lu Huaiyan stood at the entrance of the parking lot, watching her quietly.

Jiang Se didn’t stop. She averted her gaze and kept walking.

The afternoon breeze was warm and gentle, brushing past them.

A faint trace of agarwood lingered in the air.

Lu Huaiyan blinked. As she passed by, he suddenly grabbed her wrist. “Did you not see me, or are you pretending not to know me?”

His voice was low and magnetic, with a barely noticeable rasp.

Jiang Se said calmly, “Lu Huaiyan, Aunt Han is waiting for you inside.”

The familiar scent grew clearer as she paused, no longer just a fleeting trace.

It was coming from her.

Lu Huaiyan turned his head, his gaze slowly tracing her lowered lashes before lifting to the butler behind her. “Please tell my mother I have something urgent and will visit her tomorrow.”

The butler, sensing Lu Huaiyan had something to discuss with Jiang Se, nodded quickly and left in a hurry.

Lu Huaiyan held her wrist tightly, pulling her back without a word.

Jiang Se resisted. “I have things to do. I don’t have time to catch up.”

“I’m not here to catch up,” Lu Huaiyan said without turning, his voice low. “Want me to carry you like when we were kids?”

His grip was firm. Jiang Se tried to shake him off but couldn’t. Her voice turned cold. “If you dare, go ahead and carry me.”

She was wearing a skirt. She didn’t believe he’d actually hoist her over his shoulder like he did when they were young.

At her words, Lu Huaiyan stopped abruptly and turned to face her.

In the next moment, he released her wrist, bent down, hooked an arm under her knees, and lifted her effortlessly.

The motion was seamless.

He used to love carrying her like this, always able to unbutton his shirt with one hand while holding her.

Jiang Se froze for a moment. By the time she reacted, she was already in the passenger seat of his car.

Her body moved with momentum, and her hand instinctively reached back, pressing firmly against a square paper box and a metal object on top of it.

Jiang Se’s lashes flickered. She moved her hand and glanced down.

It was a pack of cigarettes and a black metal lighter.

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