In the office of the Academic Affairs Department.
Gu Jingchuan's eyes were fixed intently on the computer screen.
The girl's mesmerizing peach-blossom eyes seemed to pierce through the screen and straight into his heart.
At that moment, Gu Jingchuan was certain.
This was Lin Mo—without a doubt, it was Lin Mo.
His heartbeat accelerated wildly, though he wasn’t sure whether it was because the fact that Lin Mo was alive felt utterly surreal or because of something else.
Director Wang took a sip of tea from his cup and noticed Gu Jingchuan staring at the screen, completely entranced.
Leaning over for a closer look, he realized the video wasn’t even playing.
It had been paused just a few minutes in.
The frozen frame showed students in the audience stands.
Director Wang scrutinized the image, puzzled, before his own eyes widened in shock.
“Good heavens! Why is Xie Guanyan here watching the game today?”
Every member of the current school administration knew Xie Guanyan. Whenever he visited, they welcomed him with open arms.
As the school’s biggest financial benefactor, his presence was practically a guarantee of prosperity!
Of course, they were more than happy to have him drop by casually too!
Director Wang knew him especially well—he had been Xie Guanyan’s homeroom teacher back in the day.
After Xie Guanyan achieved success, he generously gave back to his alma mater, and Director Wang naturally rose through the ranks as a result.
Now, two outstanding graduates from the class of 2014 had returned to the school on the same day.
Director Wang couldn’t help but compare the two.
Xie Guanyan was clearly the better of the two—he arrived and left quietly, causing no trouble whatsoever!
Gu Jingchuan hadn’t been in his class back then; he’d been under his wife’s supervision.
While Gu Jingchuan’s presence at the game was understandable, why was Xie Guanyan here?
Director Wang was baffled, but there was no one around to answer his question.
Then he noticed the beautiful girl sitting beside Xie Guanyan.
Director Wang scratched the top of his wig. “She looks familiar, but she’s not a student here, is she?”
Attractive students were always well-known, whether among their peers or the faculty.
Could she be from No. 3 High School? But if so, why did she seem so familiar?
How strange!
A notification chimed from the phone in his pocket, snapping Gu Jingchuan out of his daze.
He pulled it out and saw a WeChat message from his younger brother, Gu Jingzhou.
[Bro, where are you right now?]
Gu Jingchuan immediately called him.
The line connected quickly.
His voice urgent, Gu Jingchuan spoke as he strode out of the office, “Where are you? Did you manage to keep Lin Mo there?”
The name “Lin Mo” reached Director Wang’s ears, and he slapped his thigh. “That’s right—Lin Mo!”
“The top scorer of the 2014 college entrance exams, but wasn’t she…”
Director Wang stared at the screen again, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.
Gu Jingzhou had retrieved his phone from the gymnasium and, seeing the missed calls from Gu Jingchuan, sent a message to check in.
Now, he scowled. “I already told you, that’s not Lin Mo. I didn’t stop her.”
Gu Jingchuan’s brow furrowed. “Useless! Come to the Academic Affairs office now!”
Gu Jingchuan paced the hallway outside the office, smoking a cigarette.
Inside, only Director Wang remained.
A chill ran down his spine as he texted his wife: [Honey, I think I just saw a ghost in broad daylight!]
The moment Gu Jingzhou appeared in the hallway, Gu Jingchuan stubbed out his cigarette and rushed over. “Do you have Lin Mo’s contact info?”
Gu Jingzhou’s expression darkened. “I told you, that’s not her. Why do you want her number?”
The question alone betrayed that Gu Jingzhou did, in fact, have Lin Mo’s current contact details.
“Give me your phone!” Gu Jingchuan snatched it from his brother’s hand.
Gu Jingzhou was furious. “Bro! What the hell?”
Ignoring him, Gu Jingchuan quickly scrolled through the contacts and spotted an unusual username.
[Fourth Marriage Taught Me Life]
There was no saved name, but the chat was pinned at the top.
Gu Jingchuan swiftly forwarded the WeChat ID to himself before opening the chat history.
Before he could read further, his brother yanked the phone back.
“Bro! You’re crossing a line!” Gu Jingzhou snapped.
Gu Jingchuan met his glare coldly. “That is Lin Mo. And don’t flatter yourself—she only reached out to you to get my attention. Now that I’m a celebrity, she probably feels insecure.”
Already upset over losing the game, Gu Jingzhou was now seething.
“You’re the one who’s delusional!”
Gu Jingchuan ignored him, pulling out his own phone to send a friend request using the forwarded contact.
A minute passed—no response.
He sent another, this time adding a note: Gu Jingchuan.
Gu Jingzhou ripped off his headband, crumpled it, and threw it into the trash. “Bro, get a grip. Your first love died years ago. Besides, you’ve got no shortage of women. Why are you so fixated on this girl?”
It did sound unbelievable, but Gu Jingchuan was convinced.
Xie Guanyan’s presence was proof enough.
But he wasn’t about to explain that to his brother. “You’re the one who needs to wake up. Delete this contact. You’re not to speak to her again!”
Lin Mo must still be in love with him!
Otherwise, why would she suddenly get close to his brother, Gu Jingzhou?
A new friend request popped up on Lin Mo’s phone, but she didn’t even glance at it.
She was too busy looking for her fourth brother.
He’d excused himself to use the restroom but hadn’t returned for ages.
At first, she thought he might have gotten lost in an unfamiliar place.
But after forty minutes, she grew uneasy.
She stood up to leave the milk tea shop.
Just then, the cashier called out to her.
“Miss!”
Lin Mo turned. “Yes?”
The cashier handed her a sticky note. “The dark-haired guy who came in with you asked me to give this to you when you left.”
Her heart sank. She crushed her cup in one hand and took the note with the other.
The handwriting was bold and slightly childish.
[Sis, I’m so, so happy you’re back. This is something I’ve dreamed of for years, and now it’s real. I’m content. Please don’t look for me. I’m doing fine on my own. Forget about me, sis.]
