"A man I apparently dumped ninety-three times," she muttered.
That number alone felt vindictive.
She stood and paced the room.
Why did Lin Jiawei hate him so much?
And how on earth could she choose Gu Shen over Zhou Yichen?
This was a man a thousand times better than Gu Shen, by any measure.
Lin Jiawei… are you blind?
To throw away such a fine man without a second thought.
Yue Anran shook her head as the thoughts spiraled endlessly through her mind.
The Lin family's social circle had always been elite. Of that, she was certain.
However, Zhou Yichen's presence at Gu Shen's engagement banquet was far from ordinary.
In her previous life, she had never seen him there. Not once. He had never appeared at the Gu and Yue family's events, nor crossed paths with them in any meaningful way.
Yet now, after rebirth, he stood there openly, as if he had always belonged.
It was undeniable that this life had already begun to diverge from the course she remembered.
She stopped pacing.
"Fine," Yue Anran said decisively. "If my brain refuses to cooperate, I will outsource."
The next morning, the Lin household discovered what real terror felt like.
It began at breakfast.
Lin Father sat at the head of the table, newspaper lifted like a shield, the unmistakable posture of a man hoping not to be addressed.
"Father," Yue Anran said lightly, sipping her soup. "Do you know someone named Zhou Yichen?"
The rustle of pages stopped.
So did every other sound in the room.
Even the clock appeared to hesitate.
Lin Father lowered the paper, looked at her, then looked at the bowl in front of him as if checking whether it had suddenly begun talking.
"…Why," he asked carefully, "are you asking that?"
"Curiosity."
A pause.
Then Lin Father smiled. Too fast. Too fake.
"Curiosity is dangerous," he said, standing abruptly. "I suddenly remembered I have an urgent meeting."
"At eight in the morning," Yue Anran pointed out.
"With fate," he replied solemnly, and left.
She stared at his retreating back.
Remarkable evasive speed for a man his age.
Undeterred, Yue Anran cornered her mother later in the sitting room.
Lin Mother was arranging flowers with the delicate precision of someone who knew exactly how much pressure before petals snapped.
"Mother," Yue Anran said casually, leaning against the armrest. "What kind of man is Zhou Yichen?"
One flower went into the vase upside down.
Lin Mother did not notice.
"Oh?" she said pleasantly. "That name sounds unfamiliar."
"You paused for three seconds."
"I was appreciating the flowers."
Yue Anran narrowed her eyes. "Mother."
Lin Mother finally turned around, smiled lovingly, and placed both hands on her daughter's shoulders.
"My dear," she said gently, "there are many names in the world that we do not need to remember."
"And this one?"
Lin Mother smiled harder. "This one especially."
Then she patted Yue Anran's arm and walked away, leaving behind a crooked bouquet and an overwhelming sense of conspiracy.
By noon, Yue Anran set her sights on her eldest brother.
Lin Jingchen was in his study, glasses on, documents neatly aligned, exuding the calm authority of someone who had never lost control of anything in his life.
"Brother," Yue Anran said, taking a seat uninvited. "Zhou Yichen."
He did not look up.
"Is this relevant to the Lin Group?"
"No."
"Then it does not exist."
She smiled sweetly. "He claims I once knew him very well."
The pen paused.
Just for a fraction of a second.
Lin Jingchen finally raised his head, expression unreadable.
"…Did he contact you?"
"No."
Another pause.
Then Lin Jingchen calmly closed his folder, removed his glasses, and stood.
"You should forget that name," he said.
"Why?"
"Because," he replied smoothly, "remembering it brings unnecessary trouble."
"Like what kind of trouble?"
He gave her a long look.
"The kind that consumes time."
And with that, he walked out.
Strike three.
Growing impatient, Yue Anran ambushed her second brother in the gym.
Lin Jingyu was mid workout, muscles tense, sweat dripping, clearly fighting something more aggressive than a punching bag.
"Bro… about Zhou Yichen," she said loudly.
He stopped.
Slowly turned.
His expression was not fear.
It was exhaustion.
"…Why," he asked carefully, "does that name keep reappearing today?"
"Because no one will answer me."
He rubbed his face, sighed deeply, and stared at the ceiling like a man praying for patience.
"You do not need to know," he said firmly.
"That is not an answer."
"That is the safest answer," he corrected.
She crossed her arms. "You are all acting like I asked about a criminal."
Lin Jingyu hesitated.
Then said carefully, "No."
"An enemy?"
"No."
"A ghost?"
"…Also no."
"Then what?"
He exhaled, met her eyes, and said, "A complication."
"That is vague."
"That is intentional."
He resumed punching the bag with far more force than necessary.
That evening, Yue Anran lay sprawled across her bed, staring at the ceiling again.
Father fled.
Mother deflected.
Brothers collectively developed selective amnesia.
Servants suddenly discovered urgent tasks whenever she walked by.
Zhou Yichen was not forbidden.
He was worse.
He was unmentioned.
She let out a slow breath.
"Interesting," she murmured.
Whatever existed between Lin Jiawei and Zhou Yichen had not ended quietly.
And whatever it was, the entire Lin family had agreed on one thing.
Silence was safer.
Yue Anran smiled faintly.
Unfortunately for them, silence only made her more curious.
Somewhere across the city, Zhou Yichen sneezed for no reason at all.
"Strange," he muttered, loosening his tie.
Across the desk, his secretary froze mid‑step.
"Young Master," she said cautiously, as if approaching a sleeping beast, "Madam Zhou called earlier."
His fingers paused on the folder.
"…What now?" Zhou Yichen asked flatly.
"She asked me to remind you that you are expected to attend the blind dates she has arranged for this weekend." The secretary cleared her throat. "Three of them. Back to back."
Silence.
The kind that pressed downward.
Zhou Yichen leaned back in his chair, eyes closing for a brief moment. "Did I die and forget to be informed?"
"No, Young Master."
A faint, humorless breath escaped him. "Tell her I'm busy."
"She anticipated that response," the secretary added nervously. "Madam Zhou said if you refuse, she will personally come to the company."
Zhou Yichen opened his eyes.
"…Prepare my schedule," he said finally. "And cancel anything unnecessary."
The secretary hesitated. "All three?"
He sneered. "If I survived ninety‑three breakups, I can survive three dinners."
Outside the floor‑to‑ceiling windows, the city moved on unbothered.
Somewhere within it, an inconvenient ghost had returned.
And now, even fate seemed eager to add fuel.