Zhang Rui met her gaze for a moment, then looked away. "Che Che… you know my background better than anyone. Everyone in this village does. I wasn't born here — Grandpa found me in the forest that morning twenty-two years ago. The truth is, I've always wondered where I came from. Now that my real family has found me, I think… I should at least go and see them."
His tone was calm, steady — too steady.
Lin Che bit her lip. "But…"
He reached out and patted her hand gently. "Don't worry. I'll never forget you or this village. You've been my home all these years. You, Grandpa, everyone here."
He smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Once I settle things in the capital, I'll come back for you. We're still engaged, remember? When everything's in order, I'll speak to my family about our marriage. Then we can finally have our peaceful life."
Lin Che looked at him — the boy she had known her whole life, who was now speaking like a stranger.
She nodded slowly, but her heart felt tight, uneasy.
Lin Che didn't know why, but her heart kept tightening, little by little, as if an invisible hand was squeezing it. The more she looked at Zhang Rui, the more the feeling grew — that she was losing something she could never get back.
And yet, when she searched his eyes, there was something there she couldn't name. A flicker. A shift. Something foreign and distant.
If the Gong family hadn't shown up — if it had been some other, smaller family, without wealth or power — would Zhang Rui have agreed to go?
The Gong family was not just rich. They were legendary. Even from her tiny corner of the village, Lin Che had heard whispers of their business empire, their estates, their cars that cost more than a lifetime of savings. The fleet that had arrived today was only a fraction of their power.
She looked down, her voice low but steady. "Since you've made your decision," she said softly, "I'll respect it."
Zhang Rui nodded, visibly relieved. "Thank you, Che Che. I knew you'd understand."
But as they exchanged small, gentle smiles, something hung in the air — something heavy and unspoken. The kind of silence that follows when two hearts already know they're drifting apart but can't say it yet.
Outside, the sound of engines rumbled faintly as the last of the black cars rolled down the dirt road, leaving only a haze of dust in their wake.
Inside one of those cars sat a man — tall, sharp-featured, his posture straight and precise. A tablet rested in his hand, the faint glow of stock reports and market updates reflecting on his dark glasses. His expression was unreadable, carved from stone.
Beside him sat Madam Gong, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her sleeve. Though she was his aunt by name, she still felt a subtle fear whenever she sat beside him. His presence was heavy — the kind that made people lower their voices without realizing why.
Still, beneath her tension, there was a flicker of excitement in her eyes. Hope.
Without looking away from the tablet, the man finally spoke, his voice deep and even. "How did it go? Where is he?"
Madam Gong blinked, surprised that he was asking. "He… he's still in the village. There's a strong emotional bond with his foster family. I gave him a week. After that, we'll come back for him."
The man said nothing.
He only tilted his head slightly, as if thinking, then went back to scrolling through the reports. His silence made Madam Gong's heart pound even faster.
The car glided smoothly down the village road, and one by one, the convoy disappeared from sight — leaving behind only the fading echo of engines and a girl standing by the old wooden gate, wondering why her chest hurt so much.
One week passed in the blink of an eye.
The peaceful little village had returned to its usual rhythm — until the ground began to rumble again.
Vroom! Vroom!
Engines. Lots of them.
The sound grew louder and louder, until chickens started flapping everywhere and old ladies peeked out from their windows.
And then, just like last time — no, even grander than last time! — a fleet of gleaming black luxury cars rolled into the dusty road of Zhang Village, one after another, their silver emblems flashing under the sun.
"Ah?! They're back again?!" someone shouted from a rooftop.
"The Gong family! It's the Gong family again!!"
Within minutes, half the village had gathered by the Zhang household, whispering and gasping as the cars surrounded the small courtyard.
"This time they brought even more cars!"
"Last time was already scary enough! Are they moving the whole company here?!"
"Shh! Look! That must be Madam Gong! Look at that jewelry! It's shining brighter than the sun!"
The villagers' curious eyes widened as several well-dressed people stepped out of the cars, their movements sharp and elegant. Bodyguards lined the gate like statues, forming a perfect wall of black suits.
Inside the Zhang home, the air was heavy.
Old Master Zhang sat stiffly on his wooden chair, his old hands gripping his knees. His face looked calm, but his eyes were red.
Beside him sat Madam Gong — her posture regal, her perfume filling the air — holding Zhang Rui's hand tightly. Her face was glowing with happiness, eyes slightly moist.
And Zhang Rui… Zhang Rui was smiling too. He sat close to her, speaking softly, as if afraid to upset her in any way.
It was the first time Lin Che wasn't by his side.
Madam Gong turned to Old Master Zhang with a deep sigh. "Old Master Zhang, I truly don't know how to thank you. You have raised my son all these years. Without you, I might never have seen him again."
Old Master Zhang forced a smile. "There's no need to thank me, Madam Gong. I only did what any father would do."
Madam Gong reached into her purse and took out a thick, heavy envelope. The edge was slightly bulging, the weight obvious even before she placed it on the table.
"Please," she said, pushing it toward him. "This is just a small token of gratitude. You have done more than anyone could ever repay."
Old Master Zhang stared at it for a long moment — then pushed it back.
"I cannot take this," he said firmly. "For twenty-two years, I've seen him as my own flesh and blood. To take money for it… would make those years feel like a transaction. I can't do that."
Madam Gong's expression softened. Her eyes trembled for a moment before she nodded. "I understand. You are a man of principle, Old Master Zhang. Don't worry — I will take care of him very well. You have my word."
The old man smiled faintly, though tears were already gathering in his eyes. "That's all I ask. Just treat him well."
Outside, the murmurs of the villagers grew louder as the convoy glittered under the morning sun.
And at that very moment—
"Ah, Che Che! You're here!"