The black Maybach rolled to a smooth stop at the school gate.
Old Wu stepped out personally and opened the rear passenger door.
He cast a brief glance at Shen Xue, the girl beside Yang Tian. His brows twitched ever so slightly as he asked in a low, steady voice:
"Where to?"
Yang Tian stepped toward the car, his tone casual but commanding:
"To the base."
"And help me request a few days off—for both of us."
Old Wu paused, his gaze lingering on Shen Xue for a moment longer, now tinged with hesitation.
After all, in the previous life, she had been one of the participants.
Even though she eventually turned against their enemies and helped avenge him, early wounds—especially betrayals—were not so easily forgotten.
Yang Tian caught the flicker of doubt in his expression.
A lazy yet overpowering smirk curved his lips.
"She's trustworthy."
"You'll be working with her sooner or later."
Old Wu's heart trembled slightly. He nodded solemnly. "Understood."
The car door closed, and the vehicle slowly pulled away.
Shen Xue sat beside Yang Tian, the silence between them briefly heavy.
Suddenly, Yang Tian lowered his head and reached into a hidden compartment beside the door, pulling out a box of cigarettes.
With practiced ease, he flicked one out and caught it between two fingers.
He pinched it between his lips, rolled down the window, and let the wind in.
Fss—click.
A flicker of flame, and smoke curled through the air.
Turning his head slightly, his tone light, like a return to an old self:
"You don't mind, do you?"
Shen Xue paused, startled by the familiar yet unfamiliar image before her. She answered gently:
"It's fine… but try not to smoke too much. It's bad for your health."
She lowered her gaze after speaking but couldn't stop herself from peeking up at him again.
This was the man she remembered best.
In the last life, it wasn't until after his death that she realized how much Yang Tian had endured beneath his calm and controlled surface.
He had endured the cold stares of the woman he loved. Endured everyone's misunderstandings. Endured the betrayal of friends. Endured the endless hidden wars that never seemed to end.
But now, he had changed.
Sharper. More decisive. No longer suppressing himself—and somehow even more dangerously captivating.
Shen Xue looked at the sharp line of his jaw and quietly tightened her grip on her skirt.
Silently, she promised herself:
"This time, I won't let go."
In the infirmary, the air conditioner buzzed softly. The room smelled of alcohol and antiseptic.
The moment Liu Ruyan walked in, the school nurse spotted the blood on her palm.
"Oh my, what happened? You're bleeding—"
The old nurse quickly set aside the case files and came over with gauze and iodine.
Liu Ruyan kept her head down and said nothing.
But Ji Xiaolan had already stepped forward, crouching beside her with a look of concern:
"Does it hurt? Do you want me to get you excused? You should rest…"
His voice was gentle, every word laced with "concern"—but each step closer was calculated.
Liu Ruyan's eyes flickered, her instincts warning her.
She knew this man's games all too well.
In the previous life, he had also acted this "gentle." Yet behind the scenes, he spread rumors about their so-called "romance" and deliberately stirred up tension between her and Yang Tian.
Every time he took her away "for some space," scandalous headlines and maliciously edited videos would flood the internet the next day—
And Yang Tian had always been silently pushed further and further away.
She wouldn't repeat the same mistake.
"No need," she said softly. "I just need a moment to rest."
Ji Xiaolan's smile stiffened for a moment, but he still leaned in, maintaining that gentle tone:
"Really? I could take you home if you'd like—"
The nurse, having finished dressing the wound, looked up with a chuckle and shook his head.
"Ah, young people these days... always so dramatic."
Liu Ruyan's face flushed red with shame. She couldn't lift her head. Abruptly, she stood up and mumbled, "Thank you, doctor."
She practically fled the infirmary.
Ji Xiaolan rose unhurriedly, still following behind.
"Come on, I'll take you somewhere nice. Clear your head."
Liu Ruyan stopped in her tracks and looked back at him.
"No thanks. I want to go home."
Her tone was calm—but firm, for once.
Ji Xiaolan stood there, his expression still full of wounded heartbreak.
He didn't chase after her, only watched her walk away.
But in his eyes, a faint shadow quietly emerged.