Chapter Sixty-Two: Lost in the Crowd

Shen Huaiqing was pulled upright by Fu Chen, who dragged her forward, his grip on her arm painfully tight. Yet she hadn't noticed; her thoughts lingered on the words the strange old man had left unfinished, and she had no idea what the old man had said to Fu Chen that made Fu Chen's expression change so abruptly.

She didn't believe there were people in this world who could tell fortunes. If fate were predetermined from the start, why should anyone strive so hard to live? Everyone might as well consult a fortune-teller and then idle away their days. Yet that old man must have known something—how else could he have guessed her birthday? And why would Fu Chen spend a fortune just to silence him?

Questions swirled in Shen Huaiqing's mind, and she had completely lost interest in sightseeing or taking photographs. They had already walked some distance from the fortune-teller's stall when Fu Chen released her hand and slowed his pace. Shen Huaiqing flexed her stiff wrist and frowned. "Fu Chen, what did he say to you just now?"

The clouds in the sky gradually dispersed, and the rain ceased. Fu Chen closed his umbrella, his face devoid of expression, cold and distant.

"Can you really expect anything from a mad old man?"

Shen Huaiqing stood before him, her brown eyes fixed intently on his. "Would you pay two hundred thousand for a madman's words?"

Fu Chen regarded her coolly, as if she were a stranger. His gaze was deep and dark, stripped of emotion.

"He knows there's something wrong with you. Besides, do you think two hundred thousand means much to me?"

"He appeared here for a reason. Spending that money to shut him up is good for both of us."

With that, Fu Chen strode off, leaving Shen Huaiqing standing there, dazed.

Could the old man be connected to the man who sent her those texts? Shen Huaiqing lowered her gaze, her long lashes brushing over a faint tear mole at the corner of her eye.

She walked forward, head bowed, lost in thought, staring at the tips of her shoes. When she looked up again, Fu Chen’s figure had vanished into the crowd. Flustered, she reached for her phone to call him, only to realize she had changed into traditional attire with no pockets, and her phone was with Fu Chen. Panic set in; she didn't even know the name of their guesthouse. Though Cloud Return Town seemed small, its winding paths were anything but straightforward.

She was utterly lost.

Her only option was to retrace her steps. When she returned to the fortune-teller’s stall, she found it deserted. She asked a nearby woman, "Auntie, do you know where the fortune-teller went?"

The woman’s demeanor changed instantly. She waved her hand impatiently, "Go on, go on, don’t bother me while I’m working," and turned to attend to customers at her stall, not sparing Shen Huaiqing a kind glance.

Shen Huaiqing’s mind was in turmoil. She stood frozen, her heart tossing and turning like stormy waves, unable to settle.

Just then, a man not far ahead beckoned to her. Shen Huaiqing hesitated, but decided to see what he wanted—surely no one would dare abduct her in broad daylight?

The man was impeccably dressed in a suit, hair slicked back without a strand out of place, head lowered, even wearing white gloves.

"Miss Shen, someone wishes to meet you," he said, respectful.

Anyone here who knew who she was couldn’t be ordinary. Shen Huaiqing’s intuition told her this must be Fu Yixing, the one who sent her the messages.

"He wants to see me—do I have to oblige?" Shen Huaiqing narrowed her eyes at him, her tone airy, a cold smile curling her lips.

"Our master said you won't regret it if you go." The man bowed deeply, gesturing toward the depths of a narrow alley.

Suppressing the unease in her heart, Shen Huaiqing’s beautiful eyes glittered with frost.

"Very well, I'll accept the invitation."

The man led her to the innermost part of the alley, where on the left was a concealed door, painted the same color as the wall, nearly invisible unless closely inspected.

He pushed open the door, revealing a square courtyard. The tranquil garden was elegant and silent, the ground spotless—no fallen leaves, not a single weed.

Several clumps of bamboo shaded the redwood door. The man stood before it. "Master, Miss Shen has arrived."

"Let her in," came a deep male voice from inside.

Before the man could open the door, Shen Huaiqing strode in herself.

———

Meanwhile, Fu Chen walked straight ahead, unaware that the woman behind him had not followed. When he finally realized and turned back, Shen Huaiqing was nowhere to be seen.

He reached for his pocket—both their phones were with him.

Gripping his umbrella tightly, he hurried back. From the old man's appearance, Fu Chen had sensed they were stepping into a trap someone had laid for them.

He just hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly. A moment’s inattention and they had been separated. Cloud Return Town’s tourist infrastructure was still lacking, and finding someone wasn’t easy.

Fu Chen rushed back to the guesthouse and found Uncle Liu to check the town’s few surveillance cameras.

Uncle Liu’s mouse flicked through the feeds, unable to find the path where Fu Chen and Shen Huaiqing had walked. "Young master, I suspect there’s no camera on that stretch. I’ve lived here a long time—I’ll go ask around that area."

Fu Chen’s lips curled into a cold smile. "Looks like we couldn’t avoid it after all. Even if you ask, you won’t find anything."

"You mean...?" Uncle Liu seemed to guess, his eyes wide, wrinkles stretching out at the corners.

Fu Chen glanced at him, calm and composed, sitting in a chair on the first floor. "When the time comes, she’ll be sent back."

Uncle Liu sprang up, knocking over the cup on the table. "Young master, the young mistress won’t be in danger, will she? Shouldn't we go look for her?"

"He wouldn’t dare," Fu Chen said, his voice icy, his gaze as sharp as a blade.

Uncle Liu wanted to say more, but seeing Fu Chen’s expression, he swallowed his words. As time passed and dusk fell, Fu Chen remained unperturbed.

Uncle Liu paced anxiously, eyes darting to the clock, watching the slow-moving hour hand, craning his neck now and then to peer outside.

Not long after nightfall, Shen Huaiqing appeared at the guesthouse door.

"Young mistress, you’re finally back! We were worried sick," Uncle Liu exclaimed, rushing over.

Shen Huaiqing glanced sideways at Fu Chen, her voice cool and steady. "Is that so? I suspect only Uncle Liu was concerned for me."

Uncle Liu replied awkwardly, "Of course not, young master was very anxious too."

She ignored him, walking step by step to stand before Fu Chen, lifting her eyelids, her face cold. "Fu Chen, you really can sit still."

Fu Chen tilted his chin slightly, meeting her sinister gaze, his voice indifferent.

"He wouldn’t dare harm you."