The ride back from the Feng estate was eerily silent. Feng Ruoxi sat in the passenger seat of the sleek black car, her fingers curled into her lap as she stared out of the tinted window. The city lights flickered past in a blur, but her mind wasn't here—it was trapped in the past, sifting through the fragments of secrets Feng Zhengzhi had laid at her feet.
Jiang Yukang, behind the wheel, stole a glance at her. He had seen Ruoxi silent before, lost in thought, but this was different. This time, she wasn't just planning—she was unraveling.
"You've barely said a word," Jiang Yukang finally spoke, keeping his tone even. "Tell me what's going on in your head."
Ruoxi exhaled slowly, her gaze still fixed on the moving scenery. "My mother… she wasn't just hiding something. She was running from something. And whatever it was, it was powerful enough to make even Feng Zhengzhi back off."
