Timeline: The Tenth Year Since Yueci Porcelain's Disappearance

Ten years.

Outside, the sky wasn't fully bright yet. But the spring air had already lost much of its chill.

Nishikino An's fingers gently brushed over the yellowed calendar.

The numbers on it stabbed her heart.

She turned to the mirror. Ten years had etched marks on her face—the most jarring was that long scar.

Gently touching the uneven scar, her eyes darkened. Would he even recognize her now?

Today marked the end of her undercover mission.

It was also the tenth anniversary of Yueci Ru's disappearance.

His sudden vanishing remained a permanent scar in her heart.

Her decade-long undercover career had ended perfectly. She now ruled this gang as its boss.

She'd fully absorbed the dark side's power. Time to return to the sunlight and scheme for clichéd power plays...

Ten years—neither long nor short.

Memories of their fights and bickering felt like yesterday.

She knew she wasn't good. But she couldn't abandon all principles and become a total bastard.

Even for her, undercover life wasn't smooth.

One wrong step meant utter ruin.

Now, she stood at the dark world's peak. Ready to crawl out of the gutter into the sun.

Today was special. She'd dressed up anew.

No black trench coat today. She wore a snow-white shirt instead.

Stepping out without turning on lights, she silently gazed at the shut door. Her movements were soft.

The sun hadn't fully risen. The moon still hung low.

She knew it wasn't her moon. But for a moment, its light touched her.

The crimson Ferrari sped down empty streets. Scenery blurred past the windows.

Her thoughts weren't on the destination. Nor the distant past.

Time flowed like a river, sweeping her heart away.

Finally, she slammed the brakes.

Cemetery.

Nishikino An adjusted her collar. She grabbed the white bouquet from the passenger seat and stepped out slowly.

Silently weaving through gravestones, she stopped before one with no offerings.

Five years ago, she'd erected this tombstone for him.

Five years later, this was her second visit.

She placed the bouquet silently before it.

Her hand gently caressed the familiar name and face on the stone. As if she could still feel his warmth.

Nishikino An had planned to say so much. But now, not a single word came out.

Leaning against the tombstone, she felt time trickle by.

The sun rose, warming the world. The cemetery brightened.

She'd tried to reunite with him—in hazy 3 AM dreams.

But memories were their only meeting place.

She stood.

Walked away.

Could the next ten years be different?