"No need, I’ll drive myself."
"Look at how exhausted you are. Who knows how many days it’s been since you last slept? Let drive."
That was true—she hadn’t slept in two days. ntioning this made Ye Ranran angry; Fu Rong had just called her earlier.
Couldn’t he let her rest for a bit?
After dropping her off at her doorstep, Jun Mochan left.
This ti, Ye Ranran didn’t even bother washing her face and collapsed directly onto the bed.
That recurring dream she often had started to beco clearer.
"Ranran."
The person was kneeling on the balcony, reaching out desperately to grasp the hand of soone falling. Half of his body was tilted precariously downward.
Just as he was about to plunge down, two others rushed forward and held him back.
In the end, all she could see was his handso face.
Then ca the salty taste of seawater, her eardrums filled with liquid, a sharp, tearing pain following.
The scene cut off abruptly, and she woke from the dream with a jolt.
Cold sweat dripped from her forehead, staining the blanket with irregular patterns.
The blush and powder on her face had sared into a ss, leaving her complexion streaked and uneven.
She clutched her chest, trying to calm her racing heart, because she had finally seen his face clearly—those artistically striking features unmistakably belonged to Jun Mochan.
But beyond that, there was nothing. Nothing more.
She searched her mory but couldn’t find anything else.
Wiping the sweat from her face, she threw off the blanket and got out of bed. After washing her face and taking a shower, she walked out of her room.
From the innermost study, faint sounds of arguing seeped through. Almost as if guided by so unseen force, Ye Ranran moved closer.
She heard Fu Rong’s voice, and the voices of her father and older brother, too.
They were arguing intensely. She had never encountered such a scenario before and had no idea what they were arguing about.
"Jun Mochan is relentless. Do you think she won’t rember? Even if she doesn’t, he’ll still take her back." That was her father’s voice.
"She won’t rember. She’s Wen Cai now—she can only be Wen Cai!" Fu Rong’s tone was particularly forceful.
What did he an she could only be Wen Cai? Was she soone else other than Wen Cai?
Suddenly, she thought of Jun Mochan’s voice calling out in her dream: Ranran.
Who was Ranran? And what connection did she have to her?
Why would she have a dream like that?
"You think making a duplicate makes her truly Xiao Cai? Xiao Cai died two years ago. Search your conscience and tell —can you really accept the current Wen Cai?"
Wen Li’s voice continued, "Even now, you can’t stay uninvolved, and isn’t that exactly why?"
A sound ca from outside the door, drawing the attention of all three inside. They turned to look, and there stood Ye Ranran, pale-faced, outside the entrance.
Noticing their stares, she instinctively turned to leave.
Fu Rong imdiately ran toward her.
Ye Ranran’s face was filled with terror. She fled in panic, stumbling onto the road. A car passed by, and she stood directly in its path.
From a distance, Fu Rong saw her state, and his heart instantly froze—as though losing gravity, feather-light like a fragile bubble. All it would take was the faintest touch to burst it, leaving no trace behind in the sunlight.
"Wen Cai."
She turned to glance at him, her crystal-clear eyes shrouded in a layer of mist—a mist that obscured the vibrancy they once held.
The car stopped just ten centiters away from her.
She opened the car door and got in. "Drive. Quickly."
One stepped on the gas, and the car sped away, leaving only a lingering cloud of exhaust for Fu Rong.
...
Jun Mochan was on the phone with his child.
"Dad, when are you coming ho?"
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