The call had come from across the ocean—not from some decaying capitalist nation, but from a small, conflict-ridden country where Bai Ruoxi had embedded herself as a foreign correspondent.
The Newspaper Office
Qiao Yiyi—no, Bai Ruoxi—emerged from the restroom and marched straight to the editor-in-chief’s office without hesitation.
“Chief, I need to return to China. Immediately.”
The bespectacled man, nearing fifty, looked up in surprise. “Family emergency?”
As her editor, he knew Bai Ruoxi’s work ethic was borderline self-destructive. For her to drop everything and request leave meant something serious had happened.
“Something like that,” she replied tersely, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.
The chief scanned the schedule. “Can it wait a week?”
Bai Ruoxi clenched her jaw. She wanted to leave now, but staffing was tight. A week was the best she’d get.
“Fine. Thank you.”
The moment Jiang Fei had uttered those two words—“We’re done”—her world had tilted off its axis.
For years, she’d taken his devotion for granted. His love had been her safety net, allowing her to chase her dreams across war zones and political upheavals.
He’ll always wait for me, she’d thought.
Now that net was fraying—and with it, her resolve.
The career she’d sacrificed so much for suddenly felt… hollow.
…
Meanwhile, in Daocun Village
“How’d you find this place? It’s unreal.”
Ye Yuanyuan stood on the planned site of Jiang Fei’s villa, surveying the postcard-perfect landscape—rolling hills, mirror-still lakes, forests stretching to the horizon.
Her reaction? A mildly impressed blink.
This woman might actually be asexual, Jiang Fei mused. Getting a compliment from her was like extracting teeth.
“Why the sudden visit?” he asked, pouring her a cup of Longjing tea. “Grandpa Ye’s back home by now, right?”
Two days prior, he’d completed Old Man Ye’s treatment. The octogenarian could walk unaided again, albeit with the careful shuffle of the elderly.
“Still at the sanatorium,” Ye Yuanyuan said, sipping tea. “Doctors insisted on three more days of observation. Dad backed them, so Grandpa’s stuck.”
Jiang Fei’s eyebrow twitched. “Unnecessary. His legs are healed.”
“I agree. He even did tai chi yesterday,” she admitted. “But…”
“But?”
“He’s been fatigued. Dizzy spells.” She set down her cup. “Doctors say it’s normal post-recovery, plus summer lethargy.”
Jiang Fei frowned. He’d thoroughly examined Ye Zhengnan—no underlying issues. Still, modern diagnostic tools had their merits.
After two cups of tea, Ye Yuanyuan finally revealed her true agenda:
“That rice wine you brewed… it’s ready, right?”
Her gaze darted away, cheeks pink.
Jiang Fei bit back a laugh. So the ice queen has a drinking hobby.
“Plenty to share,” he said generously. “Though the red wine needs another month.”
“Save me some,” she demanded, her usual blunt self.
As Jiang Fei started lunch prep, the sanatorium called—directly to him.
Ye Yuanyuan’s chopsticks froze mid-air. “What’s wrong?”
“Your grandfather vomited this morning. Rapid health decline. They can’t diagnose it.” He grabbed his medical kit. “We’re going. Now.”
To her credit, Ye Yuanyuan moved swiftly—though not before snagging two jars of rice wine on their way out.
