“Of course I remember! I was just about to tell you! You had just left when she came by, asking if you were in the lab. I told her you’d gone out. She looked disappointed and left… and then you came right back. What a coincidence…”
Xie Dingyuan’s pupils contracted. “She was here?”
“Yes! Just left a moment ago.”
“Can we check the surveillance footage?”
“Huh?”
Xie Dingyuan’s expression was stern—clearly not joking.
Uncle Wang, the security guard, immediately nodded. “Of course! Come in, I’ll pull it up right now…”
Two minutes later.
On the screen, not only did Jiang Fuyue appear—but so did Xu Kaiqing!
The professor had once said that Xu Lao’s trip away from the capital might be to meet the mysterious “I Send My Sorrowful Heart.”
Jiang Fuyue’s extraordinary hacking skills and virus creation…
And then, the sudden appearance of Ming Yu.
The teacup tinged with citrus fragrance…
All the evidence pointed to one person—
Jiang Fuyue!
Yes, back when Xu Lao visited Linhuai, it was in search of “I Send My Sorrowful Heart.” Eventually, he discovered that this person had sold a few rare, out-of-print books on the intranet, which led him to a bookstore, and from the clues left behind there—he found Jiang Fuyue.
At the time, Xie Dingyuan had accompanied him to No. 1 High School.
Jiang Fuyue had taken issue with him being present and insisted on speaking with Xu Lao alone.
To this day, Xie Dingyuan still didn’t know what the two had discussed.
Xu Kaiqing remained tight-lipped, and Jiang Fuyue never brought it up either.
But ever since that meeting, Xu Kaiqing had stopped looking for “I Send My Sorrowful Heart.”
Xie Dingyuan had long suspected: either Xu Kaiqing had already learned their identity, or they’d already met in secret.
There were only those two possibilities.
Which meant—following Xu Kaiqing’s trail would inevitably lead to “I Send My Sorrowful Heart.”
Both he and Shen Wenzhao had silently agreed on this point.
He just hadn’t expected that after so much investigation and laying such an elaborate trap, the trail would circle back to Jiang Fuyue.
“Just who are you?” Xie Dingyuan muttered inwardly.
Just then, Uncle Wang suddenly let out a puzzled sound. “Professor Xie, is Miss Jiang… talking to the camera?”
Xie Dingyuan looked up at the screen. He saw the girl walk to the door, then suddenly pause and turn back, stopping right in front of the camera.
She slowly raised her head, revealing that beautiful, seemingly harmless face, and—speaking clearly, word by word, directly into the lens—
Uncle Wang squinted, confused. “What’s she saying?”
There was heavy traffic out front, the noise made the audio fuzzy on the recording.
But Xie Dingyuan had already read her lips.
She said: “Xie Dingyuan, I know it’s you.”
By doing that, she had essentially exposed herself—confirming all his suspicions.
Clearly, every move he made was within her expectations.
She had purposely left that surveillance clip behind, waiting for him to find it.
“Professor Xie? Huh—he left? Should I keep going through the footage?”
Uncle Wang reached out as if trying to stop him, but could only watch as Xie Dingyuan jumped into his car and sped away, tires screeching, clearly furious.
“What’s going on?” Uncle Wang scratched his not-so-clever head, shoveled down the last bite of his lunch, then contentedly settled in for an afternoon nap.
…
Xie Dingyuan drove back to Yutianhua Residence.
In the front garden’s public area, Jiang Fuyue was sitting calmly. On the stone table before her sat a pot of tea, and two cups.
As if she’d been waiting for him for a long time.
Seeing him arrive, she curled her lips into a sweet, pleasant smile.
“You came pretty quickly. I’m guessing you saw the footage?”
“Why?” Xie Dingyuan stood across from her, gaze deep and intense.
“No rush,” Jiang Fuyue poured him a cup of tea herself and gently pushed it toward him. “Sit down. We’ll talk slowly.”
Xie Dingyuan stepped forward and sat.
He picked up the cup, but didn’t drink. He just held it to his nose and inhaled lightly.
The tea’s fragrance mixed with a strong citrusy note—just like the cup he’d smelled at the teahouse.
Exactly the same.
“Not going to try it?” the girl asked with a smile.
He tilted his head back and took a sip.
“How is it?”
Xie Dingyuan didn’t answer, instead pressing, “One hour ago, at Fengya—were you there?”
Jiang Fuyue nodded. “Yes.”
“The two cameras facing the tearoom—they were broken. Was that you?”
“Mhm.”
“Besides you, Elder Xu, and Ming Yu… there was one more person there. Who was it?”
Jiang Fuyue: “Peter Drucker.”
“You were meeting for…”
“Academic exchange.”
Xie Dingyuan’s brow creased, and at last, he asked the question on his mind: “How do you even know them?”
“They’re old friends.”
“How old? Don’t forget, you’re only 18.”
Three of the biggest names in physics had all put aside their work and research to come to Linhuai—just for her. Clearly, her relationship with them ran deep. But she was only a high school student. Even if they’d met years ago, she would’ve been what—ten? Twelve?
What could a girl that young possibly offer, to be treated by these towering figures as an equal?
Yes—from how she addressed Ming Yu last night, and from Xu Kaiqing chasing after her in the footage, it was clear that Jiang Fuyue didn’t see either of them as elders.
Apparently, the same went for Professor Drucker.
It wasn’t about disrespect or poor manners—but something that came from within: True equality.
They spoke as equals, treated each other as peers—age, status, achievement, none of it mattered.
Because she was Jiang Fuyue.
And the three elders clearly accepted and respected that mode of interaction—found it natural, even.
Xie Dingyuan suddenly found himself… unable to make sense of her anymore.
Xie99: “Right now I have so many question marks.”
