Slow to mature after marriage

At this moment, Yanhe International.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the top-floor office, the night view of northern Beijing unfolded, with thousands of lights shining down at his feet. Bo Yan leaned back in his chair, holding a newly delivered document in his hand; it had a kraft paper cover and contained a thick stack of documents.

Wang Jin stood in front of his desk and reported the investigation results in detail.

"The Zhou family of Haicheng started their business in shipping, and Zhou Shuyan is the third generation. Zhou's Shipping owns ocean-going freighters and port terminals, and in recent years has also ventured into cold chain logistics and warehousing. Their status in Haicheng is equivalent to that of Yanhe in Beijing."

"Zhou Shuyan is 54 years old this year. His wife, Shen Ruoqing, is three years younger than him and used to be a pediatrician at Shanghai Children's Hospital. After their daughter went missing, Shen Ruoqing's physical and mental condition deteriorated, and she eventually had to resign from her job. She has been recuperating in recent years."

Wang Jin turned to the next page.

"Zhou Xubai, the son of the Zhou family, is thirty years old and the general manager of Haicheng Hang'an Group. In the past two years, Zhou Shuyan has gradually begun to hand over the company's affairs to him. He is unmarried, and in recent years, apart from work, he has spent most of his energy searching for his younger sister."

Wang Jin pushed a printed sheet of paper in front of Bo Yan. It was a screenshot of a missing person notice that had been posted more than 20 years ago. The page was yellowed, but the information was still clear.

Because the Zhou family has been relentlessly searching for their daughter for years and has released a great deal of information, Bo Yan was able to narrow down the search area in less than half a month after watching the meteor shower.

It's the Zhou family of Haicheng; all the information about Mu Siwan matches up.

"This is the information the Zhou family has been posting on the missing persons website for years. The missing daughter's name is Zhou Yu'an. She went missing at the Haicheng Wharf when she was five years old. On the day she went missing, she was wearing a white dress and, like my wife, had a light mole between her eyebrows."

Bo Yan picked up the paper and his gaze fell on the photograph.

The little girl in the photo sits on a carousel, with two small braids, a very faint mole between her eyebrows, a bright smile, and eyes that curve into two crescent moons. The amusement park lights spread out behind her, casting a warm glow on her silhouette.

Bo Yan stared at the mole, gently rubbing his fingertip across the photo, a soft look in his eyes.

Almost instantly, Bo Yan was certain that the girl in the photo was indeed his Wanwan.

So that's why I used to smile so brightly when I was little.

A cold glint flashed in his eyes.

That's why I said the Mu family truly deserves to die.

Zhou Xubai.

Bo Yan recalled the calm and composed demeanor of the man when they were discussing business.

It turned out to be his brother-in-law.

Bo Yan's thoughts returned to that humid and hot seaside city. She put down the photograph, her fingertips lingering on the paper for a moment.

"Let's arrange a meeting with Zhou Xubai first," he said. "Let's test the Zhou family's attitude and not alert them."

"clear."

-

Haicheng, Zhou family.

The bedroom door was tightly closed, and the sound of things breaking could be heard coming from inside, one after another.

Shen Ruoqing's voice came from the crack in the door, sharp, broken, and frantic, completely unlike her usual gentle and quiet self.

"Don't stop me... I need to find An'an... I need to find An'an!"

"You're all bad people... You won't let me go see An'an... I saw An'an..."

The maids scrambled to clean up the broken pieces in the room. An older woman tried to grab Shen Ruoqing's hand, but was shoved away.

Shen Ruoqing stood barefoot amidst the broken porcelain shards, her hair disheveled, her eyes red, staring at the empty space on the wall that had been there for over twenty years—a family photo taken when her daughter Zhou Yu'an turned one year old used to hang there, but she had been too afraid to look at it and had it taken down.

But now she saw it again.

I saw An'an.

"Turn on the TV, you bad guy, let me see An'an..."

After finally calming her down, Shen Ruoqing curled up at the head of the bed, clutching a half-embroidered handkerchief, tears streaming silently down her face. The handkerchief was embroidered with a gardenia, and next to it was an unfinished character for "peace"—every time she thought of her daughter, she would embroider a handkerchief for her, choosing her favorite gardenia and embroidering the character for "peace," waiting for her to return.

She has been embroidering for over twenty years, accumulating enough to fill almost an entire room.

But what about her An'an?

Where did An'an go?

Shen Ruoqing almost burst into tears.

After finally calming his wife down, Zhou Shuyan sat on the edge of the bed and tenderly kissed her forehead. Shen Ruoqing's eyes were closed, her eyelashes fluttered, her breathing was steady, and she had already fallen asleep after taking sleeping pills.

He stood up, left the room, and gently closed the door behind him.

Zhou Xubai rushed over as soon as he received the news, not even having time to put on his suit jacket. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, and a thin layer of sweat beaded on his forehead. He stood in the corridor, watching his father come out of the bedroom, his face pale, as if he had aged several years overnight.

"Dad," he went to greet him, "What did the doctor say? How could Mom suddenly...?"

Zhou Shuyan shook his head heavily.

"The psychologist said it was a stress reaction. She was suddenly triggered by something that caused the trauma she had been suppressing for years."

Zhou Xubai pursed his lips and turned to look at the servant standing to the side with his hands at his sides.

"You're in charge of taking care of my mother, have you noticed why she's acting so strangely today?"

The maid felt a little flustered by his gaze and quickly said, "When Madam was embroidering a handkerchief for Miss today, a program came on TV, and Madam suddenly stood up, pointed at the person on TV, and said it was Miss."

"We glanced at it, and the person on TV was wrapped up tightly, with only their eyes visible. But my wife was adamant that it was An'an. At first, we thought she was having another episode, so we quickly turned off the TV. But she just got more and more agitated..."

Zhou Xubai's eyes narrowed: "Television? What television?"

The maid frowned and thought for a long time, still unsure: "It seems to be a variety show, related to doctors. Madam doesn't usually watch TV, so we don't know why she..."

Zhou Shuyan frowned.

"Qingqing must have seen something to suddenly lose control of her emotions. Xubai, go and investigate."

The investigation results came out quickly.

Among the variety shows that have recently become popular online, only one is related to doctors—"The Heart-Fluttering Forensic Doctor".

The father and son projected the variety show onto the TV and fast-forwarded to the segment the maid had mentioned.

In the video, a young woman wearing a white protective suit with a mask covering most of her face, revealing only her eyes, stands before an autopsy table, a scalpel in her hand. Her movements are crisp and efficient, her gaze calm and serene.

A barrage of comments floated across the screen—"Siwan is so cool!" "Her cold face is so cute!" "That look is dead to me!"

When the woman came out of the operating room and took off her surgical gown, Zhou Shuyan and Zhou Xubai almost simultaneously focused their gaze on her forehead.

That mole.

Very faint moles, so faint that they might be overlooked if you don't look closely.