The evening was cloaked in a heavy, somber quiet as Feng Ruoxi stepped out of the sleek black car onto the gravel driveway of the Pang family estate. The once-familiar house loomed ahead, its large, darkened windows and weathered wooden façade exuding an air of secrets long buried. The chill of the night air did little to cool the simmering determination that burned within Ruoxi.
She had come for answers—answers that her uncles had been evading for far too long.
Behind her, Jiang Yukang exited the car, his movements deliberate and silent. He was there not as a passive observer but as her anchor. Though Ruoxi trusted herself to extract the truth, Yukang's steady presence lent her strength.
"I'll remain in the background," Yukang said, his voice calm, as always. "But if you need me, say the word."
Ruoxi gave him a curt nod. "I need to do this myself, but your being here keeps me grounded."