16

Rong Qian was lost in thought, so much so that she didn't notice Xu Yang had been watching her closely the entire time.

As the bids at the auction climbed higher and higher, she couldn't help muttering under her breath, "Jealousy is turning me into someone unrecognizable. Everyone here's filthy rich…"

A middle-aged man nearby overheard her and chuckled. "Miss, you're being modest. That watch on your wrist isn't cheap."

"Huh?" Rong Qian glanced down at her watch—Shen Yi had given it to her. Was it really worth that much?

The man asked politely, "May I have a closer look? I collect watches. I know them better than anyone."

"Sure," Rong Qian said generously, removing it and handing it to him.

The man slipped on a pair of white gloves and examined the watch with practiced care. After a while, a puzzled look appeared on his face. "That's odd… this model was manufactured in the 1970s, yet it looks practically brand-new."

"You know what brand it is?" Rong Qian asked.

"Of course," he replied. "Patek Philippe. I recognized it immediately. Yours is a custom-made piece. The older the model, the higher its value. A similar piece went for over ten million at auction not long ago."

He murmured again, "This is an old watch. But why is it so pristine?"

Rong Qian was stunned.

She had heard of Patek Philippe. Even their cheapest watches were hundreds of thousands. And this was custom-made.

Shen Yi, you lunatic! Reckless spendthrift!

As someone who once balked at buying a watch over a hundred bucks, wearing this on her wrist felt like walking around with a small mansion strapped to her arm.

She yanked the watch back before the expert could scrutinize further. As she slipped it on again, Rong Qian suddenly felt... rich.

Xu Yang had heard the whole conversation.

From her reaction, it was clear: someone had given her that watch. Someone with serious money. And most likely... a man.

After the auction ended, Rong Qian followed Xu Yang outside. She casually asked, "Hey, what about the painting?"

Xu Yang explained, "All auctioned items are delivered directly to the address provided by the buyer."

"So where's it being delivered?"

"To my great-uncle."

As expected. Others might not know why Xu Zhiwei was so determined to get that painting—but Rong Qian knew. It was because of Yan Qingyao.

"Miss Rong," Xu Yang said as he checked the time, "it's just past seven. Shall we grab dinner and talk?"

"No need. Let's just talk here." They stood in a quiet plaza near their cars. She didn't plan to linger.

"Alright. I'm listening."

Rong Qian took a moment to collect her thoughts, then cut straight to the point. "You wanted to know why I want to meet your great-uncle. Once I do, you'll understand. Of course, that depends on whether he's okay with you being present."

Xu Yang raised a brow, half-joking, "You talk like you know him really well."

She didn't rise to the bait. "I'll be blunt. Just tell me—yes or no—will you help me?"

Xu Yang sighed. "I won't lie to you. My great-uncle is in a private medical clinic. He's old, sustained by medication, and bedridden. He hasn't seen outsiders since retiring."

Rong Qian nodded, understanding. "It's fine. I'll find another way."

But Xu Yang suddenly said, "I will help you."

She paused.

He smiled. "Because now I'm dying to know what secret that painting holds."

Rong Qian raised an eyebrow. Not bad. He plays dumb, but he's sharp underneath.

Xu Yang told her to wait for his call. He'd have to go through certain formalities—and ultimately, it was up to his great-uncle.

Just before she left, he asked, "Anything you want me to pass along to him?"

Rong Qian thought a moment. "Tell him a police officer named Rong Qian wants to see him. And ask if he remembers the letter he gave out at that banquet years ago."

"A letter?" Xu Yang was puzzled.

She cut him off. "Just say what I told you. No questions."

"…Got it."

The next morning, he called.

"Miss Rong, he agreed. Where are you? I'll come get you."

She was already at the precinct and left on a "field case" excuse. Soon, she was in Xu Yang's car.

As they drove, he said, "To be honest, I didn't think he'd say yes. He didn't recognize your name. But the moment I mentioned your message, he froze—then insisted on meeting you immediately."

Rong Qian had been betting everything on that one memory. That after all these years, he would still remember her.

Xu Yang glanced at her curiously. "Miss Rong, what is your connection to my great-uncle? Or is this something tied to the previous generation—maybe you're just relaying something?"

"You'll understand once we meet," she said flatly.

He nodded. Didn't push.

But she did have a question. "How much do you actually know about Xu Zhiwei?"

"In what sense?"

"His past. His life story."

Xu Yang paused, then said, "He never married."

Rong Qian was caught off guard.

He stayed single… all his life?

"For the sake of Yan Qingyao," she murmured to herself.

She suddenly remembered that night—when he had planned to take her away. What went wrong? Why hadn't he succeeded? Why had she ended up in Shen Chi's hands instead?

"Do you know why he never married?" she asked.

"My dad told me once—my great-uncle only ever loved one woman. She married someone else, but he never let her go. Even after she died, he never remarried."

Xu Yang shook his head with a sigh. "Back then, not marrying was a big deal. He was rejected by the family, moved overseas, built an empire, and only returned late in life."

Rong Qian fell silent, piecing everything together.

Then she asked one last question.

"Have you ever heard of the Shen family?"

"Which Shen family?" he asked. "That's a common surname."

She tried a different angle. "Do you know someone named Shen Yi?"

She had hoped he might. But Xu Yang shook his head.

Disappointed, she thought the lead was dead.

But then—he added, "Actually, now that you mention it… When my great-uncle was first building his career, there was a man named Shen who constantly got in his way. Stirred up trouble. Sabotaged him at every turn."

"Was his name Shen Chi?" Rong Qian asked.

Xu Yang's eyes widened. "How do you know that?"

Of course she knew.

No one knew the grudge between Xu Zhiwei and Shen Chi better than her.