I'm sorry, but your fiancé loves me.

Then came a series of misfortunes for the Zhou family, which suffered losses in just half a month and the Zhou Group's shares continued to decline.

My partner suddenly withdrew his investment. After twelve years of working together, he said in a cold tone that the project was too risky and it was not suitable to continue investing. Let's part ways amicably.

When Zhou's father asked why, the person on the other end mumbled a couple of things and then hung up.

Zhou Xue stood at the corner of the stairs, pulling her pajamas up to her collar, her mind buzzing.

She asked Zhou Yao what was going on, and Zhou Yao said he didn't know; his father had just received several phone calls, none of which seemed to be good news. Over the next few days, bad news kept pouring in, as if they had all planned it.

First, the project withdrew its investment, triggering a chain reaction. Banks began to tighten lending, and then problems were found in the accounts of a subsidiary of the Zhou Group.

The news somehow got out, and shareholders started selling off their shares, causing the stock price to plummet day by day.

Before long, the group's market value had evaporated by nearly a third.

Zhou's father's hair had turned mostly white, and he had become visibly thinner. He worked long hours every day, leaving early and returning late. When he came home, his eyes were sunken, and he barely touched his chopsticks when he sat down at the table.

Zhou's mother was so anxious that she developed blisters on her lips. She made phone calls everywhere, trying to find connections, but those people who usually addressed her as uncles and elders affectionately either didn't answer the phone or gave vague and evasive answers.

After hanging up the phone, Zhou's mother sat on the sofa wiping away tears, saying, "Our family has never offended anyone over the years, so why is everyone suddenly targeting us?"

Zhou Xue sat beside her, watching her mother wipe away tears and her father frown every day, unable to get involved or help.

She called a friend to inquire about the situation, but the friend stammered and said, "Xiaoxue, don't go out too much lately," and then hung up. When she asked why, the line was busy.

Then, Zhou Xue finally couldn't sit still any longer. She pulled out a number she hadn't contacted in a long time. It was a private investigator recommended to her by a friend who used to work in finance. The friend said the investigator had connections in the industry and could find things that normal people couldn't.

She hesitated for a long time because hiring a private investigator meant she had no other options.

But she dialed anyway.

The meeting place was a very secluded coffee shop in the west of the city, far from the business district, and there weren't many people there.

When Zhou Xue arrived, the other party was already sitting in a corner. He was a man in his early forties, wearing black-rimmed glasses and a gray jacket. He looked ordinary, the kind of person you wouldn't notice in a crowd.

Zhou Xue sat down, put her bag aside, and briefly explained her family situation.

She tried to focus on the key points, outlining the timeline: what happened on which day, which link went wrong, and to what extent it affected everything, from her engagement falling through inexplicably to her family becoming estranged from her, and then to the troubles with her family's business.

After listening, the private investigator adjusted his glasses and said, "Ms. Zhou, these events in your family, on the surface, seem like a series of coincidences, but when put together and occurring in such a short period of time, they don't seem like mere coincidences."

Zhou Xue's fingers tightened around the bag strap. "Then what do you mean?"

"What I mean is," the detective said, "that someone is directing this, and the target is very clear: your Zhou family."

Zhou Xue's heart skipped a beat, as if something had struck her chest hard.

"That's why I can't answer your question directly," the detective said.

"I can only help you investigate the parties involved in these matters and see if we can find the one who started it. But before that, you should think about whether your family or you yourself have offended anyone in the past."

Zhou Xue was stunned. "You offended someone?"

"Business, personal, from many years ago," the detective said.

"Think about it carefully. Some people might not retaliate immediately, but they will wait. They will wait for the right opportunity, for you to let your guard down, for a moment when they can make sure you can't recover in one fell swoop before striking."

Zhou Xue picked up the cup in front of her and took a sip, her fingers unconsciously stroking the inside of the cup.

Whom have you offended?

Her mind raced through everyone she had met over the years: business partners, competitors, people she had disagreements with, and people she had pushed out of her jobs.

There seem to be a few, but none of them would go to this extent.

"I..." she hesitated before speaking, "Actually, when I was in school, I wasn't very well-behaved and bullied some people."

The detective raised an eyebrow, signaling her to continue.

"I was young then, and my family was well-off, so I had a bad temper. If I didn't like some of my classmates, I'd... teach them a lesson."

As Zhou Xue spoke, her gaze drifted slightly, avoiding looking at the detective. "It wasn't anything serious, just some youthful impetuosity and a bit of friction. Later, we all grew up and went our separate ways, and lost touch."

"You said you bullied some people," the detective said in a flat tone, "to what extent?"

Zhou Xue bit her lip. "It was... just the ordinary kind, they said some unpleasant things."

She paused, her voice lowering slightly, "There have been times when it went too far, like locking someone in the equipment room."

She kept quiet about the physical abuse, the mental torture, and how she repeatedly tore up the other person's study materials despite knowing they came from a poor family.

The detective's expression remained unchanged after listening. "Did you keep in touch with these people afterward?"

"No," Zhou Xue said firmly. "It's been years. They're long gone from my life. I have to rack my brains to remember their names, so they probably don't even remember mine."

But Zhou Xue's expression suddenly changed, and in that instant, a name flashed through her mind—

The girl who was bullied particularly badly by her in high school.

What was it called again?

She tried hard to recall, but she couldn't remember what the girl looked like anymore. Anyway, she wasn't pretty. She just remembered that the girl always sat by the window, and when she wrote, her head was very low, and her hair hung down to cover her face.

Zhou Xue disliked her from that time on, finding her timid demeanor infuriating.

What's more, that guy gets excellent grades and always steals her thunder.

What was her name again? I think her surname was Jiang—Jiang something-flower.

Jiang Xiaohua.

Yes, her name will be Jiang Xiaohua.

A rustic name, a rustic personality, a soft voice, and when bullied, all he does is squat on the ground and cry.

Zhou Xue felt relieved at that time, since the other girl had scored so much higher than her in the monthly exam.

However, she later heard that Jiang Xiaohua had transferred schools and she didn't know where she went.

Then they completely disappeared without a trace.

Zhou Xue never took it to heart, and in fact, she had almost forgotten the name over the years.

Only tonight, sitting in this dimly lit café, facing a stranger, did she manage to pull those three words out of the corner of her memory.

"I think I remember one," Zhou Xue said, her voice a little uncertain, "a classmate from high school, surnamed Jiang, given name something like... Jiang Xiaohua."

The detective picked up his pen and made a note in his notebook. "What happened to this person later?"

"I don't know, she transferred schools," Zhou Xue said. "I haven't seen her since. I guess she's long gone, who knows where."

She said this in a very casual tone, as if she were talking about someone who had nothing to do with her.

But her fingertips began to feel cold. The name Jiang Xiaohua in her mind was like a pebble thrown into water. At first, it was just a dot, but then the ripples spread wider and wider, and she began to remember more and more things.

"Then...should I have someone perform a ritual?" Zhou Xue suddenly asked, her voice a little panicked. "Am I being punished?"

"Ms. Zhou, religious rites can't solve this kind of thing. You should think carefully; either it's you, or your family members, who have a grudge against someone. These things don't just appear out of nowhere."

Zhou Xue nodded, stood up, and ignored the bag strap slipping off her shoulder. After taking a couple of steps, she stopped, turned around, and said:

"I will transfer the payment to your account on time. Please let me know any updates you find."

"OK."

As she walked out of the coffee shop, her phone rang. It was Zhou Yao's somewhat distressed voice.

"Sis, where are you? Dad just got another phone call. It seems that business partner is going to formally sue us for breach of contract."

She didn't reply, hung up the phone, put her phone back in her pocket, looked up at the sky, and suddenly remembered an afternoon many years ago when she was standing outside the equipment room and heard Jiang Xiaohua knocking on the door from inside.

The voice was muffled, with a sob in it, and kept calling out, "Is anyone there?"

She found it noisy and turned away.

Now the sound of banging on the door came flying back like a boomerang, hitting her eardrums again and again, making her temples throb.

She lowered her head and got into the car, her fingers still trembling slightly as she started the engine.

Her face was reflected in the rearview mirror; it looked pale and haggard under the lights, and the dark circles under her eyes were impossible to hide.

Zhou Xue slammed on the gas pedal, and the car shot forward. The street scene outside the window rushed past, and although the car's heater was on full blast, she still felt cold—a cold that seeped into her bones, as if something in the shadows was watching her.

She only discovered the existence of those eyes today.

Jiang Xiaohua. Jiang Xiaohua. Jiang Xiaohua.

"Screech—" She slammed on the brakes and looked up, her face pale.

Why do I feel like Yun Muqian's eyes are so similar to hers?