Sweetie, don't look at him, kiss me.

Ji Linzhou reached out and took the document, opening it. Lin Qingmian stood beside him and saw the signature section on the last page. Her signature had been traced; the strokes were exactly the same as her usual style, but each stroke had a slightly imperceptible deviation.

"It's not your handwriting," Ji Linzhou said.

"No." Lin Qingmian stared at the line of text. "Someone copied my signature."

The middle-aged man kept his head down and didn't look at them. A few seconds of silence followed, broken only by the occasional sound of suitcase wheels rolling across the floor in the hallway. Ji Linzhou closed the file and looked at the middle-aged man opposite him: "What else do you need?"

"A clean exit," the man said. "I don't want to get involved, and I don't want retaliation."

"Okay." Ji Linzhou stood up. "I'll take my things, and I'll arrange things for your people."

As they emerged from the business hall, the airport terminal was bustling with people. Lin Qingmian walked beside Ji Linzhou, her hands hanging at her sides, her fingertips occasionally brushing against the fabric of his coat. She spoke softly, "She even copied my signature."

"She is always thorough in her work," Ji Linzhou said, "but thorough people sometimes leave too many traces."

When they returned to the hotel, the elderly receptionist was knitting in the small living room. She nodded when she saw them return but didn't ask any further questions. After entering the room, Lin Qingmian stood by the window for a while, watching the occasional pedestrians passing by in the narrow alley below. She heard the sound of Ji Linzhou flipping through documents behind her; the papers rustled occasionally before falling silent.

She turned around: "When do you plan to go back and deal with this?"

"The earliest flight tomorrow." He closed the file and placed it on the coffee table. "She probably already knows I got the stuff. The longer it drags on, the more time she has to prepare."

Lin Qingmian walked back and sat down on the sofa. The sky outside the window was darkening, and the light of the Parisian twilight streamed in, bathing the whole room in a faded orange hue. She looked at Ji Linzhou, who was sitting opposite her, his tie loosened halfway, his shirt collar slightly open, and a faint layer of weariness beneath his eyes.

"After you go back this time," she began, "after everything is settled. Your stepmother is under investigation, the contract is terminated—do you still need this marriage?"

Ji Linzhou leaned back on the sofa, looking at her. The outside light illuminated half of his face, while the other half remained in shadow. "You've already asked once."

You didn't answer last time.

He didn't reply immediately. After a few seconds, he stood up, walked over to her, and looked down at her sitting on the sofa. He raised his fingers and touched a stray hair by her ear, his fingertips brushing against her earlobe, very lightly, as if he had just touched it and then pulled away. "After we go back this time, no matter what the outcome is," he said, "I won't let you go."

Lin Qingmian sat there, looking up at him. The light blurred his outline somewhat, but what was in his eyes was clear and bright, like something that had been submerged for a long time finally rising to the surface. She looked at him for a while, then lowered her head, reached out and took his hand hanging at his side, her fingertips threading through his fingers, slowly tightening their grip.

"I understand," she said.

When the plane landed in Fuzhou at three o'clock in the afternoon, the sunlight shone through the huge glass curtain wall of the terminal building, making the ground bright white.

Bai Cheng waited at the arrival gate, took the file bag from Ji Linzhou, and whispered that the old lady already knew they had returned. This morning, she had some things moved out of the old house, as if she was preparing to flee.

Ji Linzhou didn't speak, walking quickly, and Lin Qingmian almost had to jog to keep up with him. When they reached the parking lot, he opened the passenger door and waited for her to get in. He then went around to the driver's seat, started the car, and glanced at Bai Cheng in the rearview mirror: "Has she left yet?"

"No," Bai Cheng said. "Her car is still in the old house garage, but the packed boxes have already been put into the trunk. I've had someone keep an eye on the gate."

As the car drove out of the parking lot, Lin Qingmian's phone rang. She took it out and glanced at it; it was Zhang Yuzhu. She answered, and the voice on the other end carried a panic she had never heard before: "Mianmian, your mother asked me where you are. She said that Old Madam Ji called her and said that you and Ji Linzhou were working on her—she said that your father's business would be affected, and that you should stop—"

"You believed her when she called you?" Lin Qingmian said. "You told her to call me."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone, then Zhang Yuzhu's voice became even more panicked: "She didn't say anything else, just told us to persuade you to calm down—Mianmian, what exactly are you guys doing—"

"Tell her to come see me," Lin Qingmian said. "To her face."

She hung up the phone, and Ji Linzhou glanced at her. She shook her head: "It's nothing. Let's go to the old house."

The gate to the Ji family mansion was open, and two cars were parked in front—one belonging to Old Madam Ji and the other to Chen Qiu. When they entered, several people were already seated in the living room. Old Master Ji sat in the main seat, his expression not very pleasant. Chen Qiu sat on the sofa to the side, legs crossed, looking on with an expression of amusement. Old Madam Ji sat on the other side, a closed suitcase in front of her, a cup of tea in her hand. She didn't stand up when they entered.

Ji Linzhou placed the file folder on the coffee table without opening it, but simply pushed it in front of her.

"Take a look at this," he said.

Madam Ji glanced at the file folder but didn't touch it. "So what if I looked?"

"Not good." Ji Linzhou sat down opposite her. "You forged her signature, altered the contract terms, arranged for someone to set her up to sign a loan shark loan, and led me down this path—I will find out how much money you spent, how many people you used, and how much time you spent."

Old Madam Ji's hand holding the teacup didn't tremble, but her knuckles were a little whiter than before. "So what if you find out the truth? I'm your stepmother, your father's wife, and the matriarch of the Ji family. What are you going to do with me?"

Ji Linzhou didn't answer; he looked at Old Master Ji in the main seat. Old Master Ji remained silent for a long time, then put down his cane, his voice low but deep: "I've asked her about what she did. She admitted it."

Old Madam Ji finally put down her teacup. She raised her head, her gaze passing over Ji Linzhou and landing on Lin Qingmian: "You think you've won? When I chose you, you were the most suitable person. Now it seems my judgment was correct; you are indeed more capable of moving him than Su Tingwan." She paused for a moment, "But I didn't choose you to make you happy. You came to his side because of my arrangements. Without me, you wouldn't be where you are today."

Lin Qingmian looked at her and spoke in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft: "When you chose me, I almost died. Did you care?"