That night, Chu Xinian personally drove Qin Yiren back to Jianghai.
During the three-hour drive, Qin Yiren sat in the passenger seat, clutching the man's hand with attachment, drawing warmth and strength from him.
"Don't be afraid, I've already sent people to investigate everything," Chu Xinian said, one hand on the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. His voice carried an indescribable tenderness and protectiveness. "That man's name is Huang Wei. His father passed away eighteen years ago, and his mother died of liver cancer five years ago."
"So it turns out he was telling the truth…"
Calculating the time it had taken her to return home, Qin Yiren's eyes dimmed, anxiety rising as she quietly asked, "Chu Xinian, could it be that I really did all the things he said I did?"
Chu Xinian's sharp brows furrowed slightly, his grip on her fingers tightening. "Silly girl, don't scare yourself."
"But…"
