Rong Qian only froze for about three seconds before she snapped back to reality.
Realizing what was about to happen, she immediately grabbed the little girl and pulled her away from the billboard above their heads. After a moment, with a loud "creak," the billboard crashed down!
Seeing this, Rong Qian was certain—she had indeed traveled back to 1968 in the United States.
Back in the car, Rong Qian rested her forehead against the steering wheel, feeling utterly deflated. This had all happened so suddenly, without any preparation. How could Butler Fu have taken that photo at such a critical moment?
But then she remembered the photos she had seen earlier, and she couldn't help but feel frustrated. She had completely forgotten about them.
Now, the thought of how things would unfold when Shen Yi woke up, only to find that she had disappeared without a trace, made her uneasy. What would he feel? Would he search for her? Would he panic if he couldn't find her?
Rong Qian shook her head, trying to banish those thoughts. She had to know the outcome now!
"You really traveled back to 1968?" Shen Shuhui, who had just poured her a cup of tea, looked at her with a surprised expression.
Rong Qian nodded. "Yes, I went there. I saw 12-year-old Shen Yi, and his parents, Shen Chi and Yan Qingyao."
"Yan Qingyao?" At the mention of that name, Shen Shuhui paused. "Yan Qingyao is a taboo in the Shen family. No one is allowed to speak of her. I heard rumors... They say she was haunted by a ghost, had mental problems, and ended up jumping off a building to commit suicide."
"Haunted by a ghost?" Rong Qian couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "What nonsense. It was all human-made."
"So, you know the truth behind Yan Qingyao's suicide?" Shen Shuhui asked, his tone incredulous. To him, Yan Qingyao had always just been a figure from the past.
"Let's not talk about that for now." Rong Qian was no longer interested in discussing it. She urgently asked, "Do you know what happened to Shen Yi after Yan Qingyao died?"
"He fell seriously ill for over two months. I know because that illness left him with long-term effects," Shen Shuhui replied.
Rong Qian frowned. "What kind of aftereffects?"
"He frequently suffers from severe headaches. When they strike, it's excruciating." Shen Shuhui recalled this vividly because he had seen it firsthand.
When Shen Shuhui first learned of his cousin, Shen Yi, he was already a famous international superstar. At the time, he had imagined someone with a grand personality, perhaps aloof or arrogant. But when they met, Shen Yi turned out to be humble, elegant, and exceptionally kind, without a trace of arrogance.
Back then, Shen Shuhui was still a teenager, and he had admired Shen Yi greatly. He often visited Shen Yi's company, spending entire days in his office. Shen Yi's office was vast, and Shen Shuhui loved to observe his work habits, finding him incredibly charismatic.
The man wore gold-framed glasses, his demeanor serious and composed, with no hint of a smile. He would roll up his sleeves, revealing his toned forearm, and his hand—elegant and pale—would wield a golden pen to sign contracts with swift precision, exuding a commanding presence.
Shen Shuhui also enjoyed watching him take calls. When he answered the phone, his voice would be soft yet deep, warm and magnetic—so pleasant to listen to that it could captivate anyone.
Shen Yi seemed perfect—flawless in every way. But even someone so seemingly invulnerable had his weaknesses. When his headaches flared, they left him in unbearable pain. He would scramble to take medication from his drawer, but often his hands were too weak to even open the bottle.
Such a man—physically frail yet working late into the night—worried Shen Shuhui greatly.
Rong Qian sighed. It seemed Yan Qingyao's death had truly devastated him.
Just as she was reflecting on this, Shen Shuhui spoke again. "At first, I thought he had fallen ill from the shock of her death. But later, I heard that he had witnessed Yan Qingyao's suicide. After waking up, he spent several days searching for something. When he couldn't find it, he fell ill."
"Does that prove anything?" Rong Qian didn't see what was odd about it.
Shen Shuhui continued, "The real reason for his illness was what happened in those few days after he woke up. Apparently, he was looking for something, and after days of searching in vain, he fell sick."
Rong Qian was stunned. Could it be? Had she caused Shen Yi's headaches?
She felt a rush of guilt. She had become the source of his suffering.
Now, she couldn't stop thinking about how helpless he must have felt, searching for her in vain. The thought brought her to the brink of tears.
"Miss Rong, are you okay?" Shen Shuhui noticed her eyes watering and asked with concern.
Rong Qian wiped her eyes quickly, trying to regain composure. She took a deep breath and asked, "What happened next? After that, what else occurred?"
Shen Shuhui thought for a moment and said, "I remember when Shen Yi was thirteen, Shen Chi brought a woman home. She had a child—Shen Chi's illegitimate son, who was already six years old."
Rong Qian was appalled. "What? He had an affair while married?"
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. How could Shen Chi not love Yan Qingyao and still imprison her? Was he torturing her for fun?
It was madness!
According to Shen Shuhui, Shen Yi left that home after staying there for a year. By the time he was fourteen, he had already enrolled in college and lived on campus, never returning to that house.
Rong Qian wasn't surprised by this revelation. He had probably left as soon as he could. It was likely that he turned to acting to make money after that.
Rong Qian suddenly realized that during her time in 1968, she hadn't uncovered any substantial clues. Who was the body? Why had the photo allowed her to travel back in time? Who had been trying to harm her? She had no answers.
All she knew for certain was that her relationship with Shen Yi seemed to have started long ago—he had known her since he was a child, and they would meet again in the future.
Once she pieced that together, she understood. If she wanted to uncover more clues, she would have to travel back again.
At least this time, she had learned about Shen Yi's parents and a man named Xu Zhiwei. Perhaps they held some answers.
Rong Qian asked Shen Shuhui if he knew anyone named Xu Zhiwei, but he shook his head, indicating he had never heard of him. That left Rong Qian with no choice but to investigate on her own.
Realizing the time, she decided to head back home.
After not seeing her parents for so long, Rong Qian rushed over and gave them a big hug. "I haven't seen you in three months! I missed you so much!"
"Child, what are you talking about? We saw each other this morning!" Her mother was bewildered.
Rong Qian chuckled, "Just joking! There's an old saying, 'A day apart feels like three months.' Since I haven't seen you for a day, it feels like three months."
"You're such a chatterbox," her mother teased, tapping her on the head. "But you're so clingy now! What will you do when you get married?"
Her mother acted annoyed, but secretly, she was delighted. It had been a while since Rong Qian had been so affectionate with them.
Realizing the conversation was veering off, Rong Qian quickly excused herself, saying she needed to take a bath, and made her exit.
Her father looked at her retreating figure and then suddenly said, "Do you think she seems different somehow?"
"Of course! Look at those dark circles under her eyes. Does she look well-rested? I wonder what she's been up to these days, she looks like she hasn't had a good time for months." Her mother was always concerned about her daughter's health, especially her diet.
Although Rong Qian worked as a police officer—a demanding job—her mother made sure she ate well and rested enough, so she always appeared well-nourished and radiant.
But today, she seemed unusually worn out.
Rong Qian, however, couldn't wait to get back to her small bedroom. It had been three months since she'd last slept in her own bed.
Those months had been unbearable, and now, lying on her bed, she quickly fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep.
She was exhausted—after three months of poor rest, she slept soundly until 2 p.m. The shock of waking up so late made her panic.
In a rush, she got up and quickly prepared to leave for the police station, but when she passed through the living room, she was stopped by her father, who was watching TV.
"What are you in such a hurry for? Aren't you on vacation today?" he asked.
"Oh, right!" Rong Qian slapped her forehead. "It's the weekend, I'm on leave, why am I rushing to work?" She sighed and shook her head in disbelief, then turned back to her room to sleep again.
Her father stared at her retreating figure, clearly perplexed. "What's going on with her today? Did she forget she's off today?"