Who wouldn’t want their work adapted for the screen, especially when the copyright could fetch a hefty sum? If Guan Xia were willing, she could continue living her current leisurely yet fulfilling life for a long time.
Though still preoccupied with what had happened to Meng Lan, her attention was diverted as the two chatted at length about this man named Wu Yang.
It was clear that Meng Lan held Wu Yang in high regard—not only admiring his rags-to-riches story but also deeply respecting how he never forgot his roots after achieving success. Beyond donating large sums to the orphanage, he even made a personal appearance at the training center’s inauguration. What’s more, he treated even an ordinary person like her with such approachability. It was as if he had a magnetic charm, effortlessly putting people at ease and drawing out their thoughts without them realizing it.
There was a kind of weathered wisdom about him, a man who had seen the world yet remained hopeful about life. Every word he spoke seemed to resonate deeply, and when Meng Lan talked about Wu Yang, her eyes practically sparkled.
“Listen, Guan Xia,” Meng Lan couldn’t stop gushing about him, her words pouring out in an unstoppable stream. “This President Wu—don’t let his current success fool you. He’s suffered more hardships in his youth than most of us ever will. Born in 1969, he ended up in the orphanage after a tragedy when he was around ten. His family had gone to a banquet, but someone set a fire out of revenge. A strong wind that day fanned the flames, burning down nearly half the village. He lost not just his parents but almost all his relatives in that fire. Six or seven children, including him, were sent to the orphanage afterward. Being the oldest, he was never adopted and grew up there.”
“Orphanages back then were nothing like they are now,” Meng Lan continued. “Welfare systems were underdeveloped, and rules were barely enforced. He told me there were times he just wanted to die. For the longest time, he wondered if it would’ve been better if he’d stayed with his family and perished with them instead of running off to play with friends that day.”
Guan Xia listened intently. “What happened after that? And was the arsonist ever caught?”
“He was caught,” Meng Lan said. “Executed by firing squad that same year, given how many lives were lost. But even though justice was served, it didn’t erase the hatred in the survivors’ hearts. That fire ruined so many lives.”
Guan Xia felt a pang of sorrow. A wedding day turned into a nightmare—an arson attack that destroyed half a village. Though Meng Lan didn’t specify the death toll, the mere thought of the numbers sent chills down her spine.
“President Wu said the only thing that kept him going was revenge,” Meng Lan suddenly added, startling Guan Xia.
“Revenge?” Guan Xia’s head snapped up as she stared at Meng Lan.
Meng Lan chuckled at her reaction. “Don’t misunderstand. He didn’t mean killing anyone. His idea of revenge was proving himself—rising above his circumstances and making sure that family could never look down on him again. ‘The fault of the child lies with the parents,’ he said. He wanted to succeed so thoroughly that they’d never recover from the shame.”
Having dealt with enough cases, Guan Xia couldn’t shake the odd feeling in her gut, even with Meng Lan’s explanation.
Before she could dwell on it, Meng Lan went on, “That determination is what kept him going, no matter how hard things got.”
Something still felt off to Guan Xia, and she frowned. “How close are you to this President Wu? He shared all this with you?”
She didn’t personally know any tycoons, but based on her limited, stereotypical impressions, weren’t such people usually swamped with work, sparing no words for those who couldn’t benefit them? Yet from the sound of it, Wu Yang had poured his heart out to Meng Lan during their very first meeting. Even if they shared an orphanage connection, his enthusiasm seemed unusually intense.
Meng Lan explained, “On the day the training center opened, Mother Chen, as the host, invited the guests to a dinner. Maybe he’d had a bit too much to drink, so he spoke more freely. He told me all this when I toasted him. Honestly, I had to muster all my courage just to ask—I had so many questions.”
A look of relief crossed Meng Lan’s face. “I’m really grateful to President Wu. Despite his busy schedule, he took the time to comfort someone like me with his own experiences.”
Her explanation made sense, but Guan Xia’s frown remained. She couldn’t help recalling Meng Lan’s tone and state during their phone call at the orphanage—it hadn’t sounded like someone at peace. And judging by the timeline, her conversation with Wu Yang had happened before their call. If his words had truly helped her, she wouldn’t have sounded so distraught that day.
Guan Xia studied Meng Lan’s expression but found no signs of deceit. This wasn’t the right setting for prolonged scrutiny, so she set aside her doubts for now, offering a few polite remarks before steering the conversation elsewhere.
“President Wu sounds remarkable. I’d love to talk with him someday too,” Guan Xia said. “By the way, when I visited the orphanage, I spoke with Mother Chen. She mentioned that after you reunited with your birth parents, there was an accident and you were hospitalized for a while. Have you fully recovered? Any lasting effects?”
Meng Lan’s smile vanished instantly. After a long pause, she replied in a subdued voice, “I’m fine. Even if there are aftereffects, they’re minor—just some memory lapses and trouble focusing. But my parents and my brother…”
Her head drooped, her face hidden from view. Guan Xia couldn’t tell if her grief was genuine but gently patted her back in comfort. “How did the accident happen? Was it a gas leak from neglected maintenance, or something else? Did you have someone inspect it afterward?”
Meng Lan buried half her face against Guan Xia’s shoulder, as if seeking solace. After another stretch of silence, she murmured, “I hired professionals to check everything afterward. The pipes were fine. I even verified the last inspection records with the gas company—it really was just an accident. Stupid of me, really. I’d invited my parents, brother, and sister over for dinner at my rented place. Since I’m a terrible cook, I hired a home service to prepare the meal. They left a whole spread, including a pot of nourishing soup. The helper reminded me repeatedly to keep an eye on the stove, but I was so happy chatting with my family over dinner that I completely forgot. We even had some wine and got a little drunk. By the time I realized something was wrong, it was too late. I couldn’t find my phone, so I crawled to the door with all my strength, but my parents and brother…”
Meng Lan's voice trembled slightly by the end of her words. After a pause, she finished softly, "I’m grateful my sister had something else to do that day and didn’t come. Otherwise, I’d be an orphan again."
Though Guan Xia had her doubts about the accident, she couldn’t outright question Meng Lan. Instead, she quietly stayed by her side, gently patting her back in reassurance.
The meal lasted over two hours before they finally left the restaurant. Arm in arm, they strolled leisurely along the path by the artificial lake near Guan Xia’s alma mater.
But the heat was unbearable. After just ten minutes of walking, they gave in and hurried to find a shaded bench to sit on. Glancing at each other’s flushed, slightly makeup-streaked faces, they burst into laughter. It took them a while to compose themselves before they touched up their makeup with small mirrors and resumed their conversation.
"By the way," Guan Xia suddenly remembered, "you mentioned before that Wu Yang was determined to ruin the arsonist’s family forever. How are they doing now?"
Meng Lan applied her lipstick thoughtfully. "Wu Yang only mentioned it briefly. From what I recall, that family had plenty of issues—domestic violence, gambling. He didn’t even need to lift a finger; they’re already in a miserable state."
They chatted intermittently until sunset, when Meng Lan had to leave for security check-in. At the airport, they shared a tight hug before parting ways.
As soon as she got home, Guan Xia tried calling Ji An again. When there was no answer, she grabbed her keys and knocked on the door across the hall.
Xu Nian was home, holding a Rubik’s cube when he opened the door. He looked surprised. "What’s wrong?"
Guan Xia hesitated for a few seconds, waiting for any system alert that never came. "I can’t reach Ji An. There’s something that feels off, and I wanted your help looking into it."
Xu Nian let her in, poured her a glass of water, and sat on the couch. "What do you need me to check? Did you find another suspicious person?"
Guan Xia paused. "I’m not sure yet. It’s just a gut feeling that something isn’t right."
Despite her vagueness, Xu Nian straightened up, his expression turning serious. He leaned forward, ready to listen.
Guan Xia organized her thoughts and concisely explained the situation with Meng Lan, emphasizing the inconsistencies between her words and actions.
Xu Nian pondered for a long moment before speaking. "Based on what you’ve described, there are indeed contradictions in her behavior. Your suspicion isn’t unfounded. Let me investigate the accident first, and we’ll analyze it further afterward."
True to his proactive nature, Xu Nian had results within two days.
When Guan Xia received his call, she was at Pang Le’s gym. The two of them headed straight to Xu Nian’s place to meet.
As soon as they entered, Xu Nian handed Guan Xia a stack of documents.
She skimmed through them—copies of the police and gas company’s investigative reports on Meng Lan’s accident. The final page clearly stated that after rigorous examination, the incident was confirmed as accidental, with no evidence of foul play.
Pang Le looked thoughtful, while Guan Xia remained expressionless. If the truth were that easy to uncover, Meng Lan wouldn’t have remained unaffected all this time.
After a quick review, Guan Xia flipped back to focus on the police’s interview with the housekeeper Meng Lan had hired that day. The account matched Meng Lan’s story perfectly.
She also checked the housekeeper’s background—nothing unusual. Without Guan Xia’s earlier intuition, the entire case would seem flawless. But her instincts had never been wrong before, so she had to dig deeper.
Finding no obvious leads, Guan Xia looked up, only for Xu Nian to anticipate her question. "I requested the surveillance footage from Director Ren. Want to see it?"
Pang Le raised an eyebrow. "The accident happened in Meng Lan’s home. There’s footage?"
Xu Nian nodded. "Meng Lan lived alone. In 2021, her neighborhood had a break-in that escalated into a robbery. The thief had scouted the place, targeting homes when residents were away. But one victim returned early from a business trip and walked in on them. After that, many in the complex installed cameras—everywhere except bedrooms and bathrooms."
The explanation made sense. Guan Xia followed Xu Nian to his study. Before sitting in the chair he pulled out, she hesitated. "Is it appropriate to watch police footage here?"
Xu Nian smiled. "It’s just an accident case, already closed. As long as we don’t share it publicly or online, reviewing it privately for investigation doesn’t violate protocol. Besides, I’ve already cleared it with Director Ren. It’s fine."
Reassured, Guan Xia sat down. The three of them crowded around Xu Nian’s desk, intently watching the surveillance video.
