Jianglai pulled a little girl standing alone in the snow into the nearest café. As she gently patted the girl dry with a borrowed towel, she couldn’t help but sigh at how convenient it was to be a woman.
A female face earned trust more easily from strangers. It might sound a little vain, but beautiful girls especially reaped that benefit. If a man had tried dragging an unknown girl into a café like this? Definitely labeled a creep—or worse. And that was before considering he’d be wiping her down with a towel.
While drying her, Jianglai studied the girl. She looked about her daughter’s age—stunningly graceful, with a swan-like poise that screamed old-money upbringing. So why stand frozen in the snow like a fool? Didn’t she know melted snow seeped cold into bones, inviting fever?
Jianglai knew she had a soft spot for girls her daughter’s age. That motherly instinct flared fiercely now that she couldn’t visit her own child openly. Missing her daughter twisted that ache deeper. Beyond mere kindness, it was pure maternal overflow. Jianglai was, utterly and completely, a daughter’s girl. Her late wife aside, her child was her whole world.
"If you don’t have an umbrella," Jianglai said softly, "I’ll lend you mine. Never stand in the snow like this again." She’d brought two umbrellas today—one for her sister-in-law, one for herself. Now she’d just share with her sister-in-law later. An umbrella was cheap. Helping mattered more.
"Miss," the girl finally spoke, breaking her doll-like silence. "What’s your name?"
Had Jianglai’s daughter been there, she’d have recognized her dearest friend: Shenruxue.
Before Lunar New Year, Shenruxue’s current family left her alone. These were her free days—days she’d planned to finally do what her heart craved. But after staying with her daughter, she felt lost. What role should she play? As a "best friend," she could cherish her daughter. But how to love her husband and younger sister now?
She’d avoided Jianglai until resolving the mistress issue. Fifteen years could rewrite a person—and rewrite love. If Jianglai no longer loved her? Shenruxue’s heart would shatter. Even if everyone approved Jianglai moving on—even if her own daughter wished it—Shenruxue refused to accept it.
*Unless…* If Jianglai truly loved another, Shenruxue had fantasized about using her youthful body to win him back. But first, she had to defeat the rival.
Before Jianglai’s business trip, Shenruxue’s real dread was facing her younger sister. That’s why she’d stood numb in the snow earlier—she’d just seen Yingyu Chi outside the law firm. Her timid, sheltered little sister was gone. In her place stood a stranger: sharp, self-assured, utterly transformed. Shenruxue had braced for this change, but seeing it raw stole her breath, freezing her in place.
Now, though, her mind raced elsewhere. Beneath her delicate lashes, suspicion flickered. This woman felt *too* familiar. Beyond age and gender, every gesture, that face, those eyes she’d memorized over countless years—they pointed to one impossible truth.
Shenruxue rarely spoke to strangers. Her icy elegance kept the world at bay. Her heart held only two people: her husband Jianglai, and the memory of her younger sister. She’d etched Jianglai’s face into her soul. Time might alter him, but she’d know him anywhere. She was, after all, the person who loved Jianglai most fiercely—even unto death.
So when this woman appeared, Shenruxue froze. Her instincts screamed: *This is my husband. My daughter’s father.*
Impossible. The age was all wrong—this woman looked barely older than her daughter. *Could she be his long-lost sister?* Shenruxue wondered desperately. *Or… a daughter from his youth?*
From their very first meeting, she’d witnessed Jianglai’s magnetism. For others, "seeking heirs with cash" was a scam. For him? Wealthy women genuinely threw fortunes at the chance.
