Chapter 88: That Person—It Was You, Wasn’t It?

Fu Yancheng looked at Qiao Xi’s instantly drained face and the fear in her eyes, and it felt as though his heart had been violently seized.

At once he restrained the ferocity that had leaked from him, pulling her more tightly into his arms.

His large hand moved over her back, trying to soothe away her unease.

“Don’t be afraid, Xi Xi. I’m here.”

His voice was deep and steady. “Look at me.”

He lifted her face and forced her to meet his gaze. “He won’t get away.”

“No matter who took him, or for what purpose, I’ll drag him out.”

“I’ve already had Zhou Ze arrange the most elite security team. From this moment on, there will be people protecting you and Mom around the clock. You’ll be absolutely safe.”

“The villa’s security has also been raised to the highest level. Not even a stray fly will get in.”

Fu Yancheng paused, tenderness softening his eyes. “As for the wedding…”

“It will go on as planned. I said I would make sure everyone saw my most dazzling bride.”

“This little disturbance won’t affect our wedding, and it certainly won’t affect our future.”

He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to her lips, promising, “Leave it to me, all right?”

“You only need to be at ease and be my most beautiful bride. Trust me.”

The wild pounding in Qiao Xi’s chest gradually settled.

Looking at the confidence in his eyes, the sense that everything lay under his control, she nodded.

She buried her face in his warm chest and muttered, “Mm. I trust you.”

Fu Yancheng held her in his arms, but his gaze had turned sharp as it fell on the heavy darkness outside the window.

It was time to clear out those ignorant, death-seeking rats.

Lu Yanzhi’s escape was, without question, a declaration of war.

And he would never allow anyone to ruin the happiness he had fought so hard to obtain.

--

The next morning.

Fu Yancheng left early. Before he went, he repeatedly instructed Zhou Ze to personally escort Qiao Xi back to the Fu family’s old residence to rest and nurture the pregnancy.

As soon as Fu’s mother saw Qiao Xi, she beamed and took her hand.

She chattered on about countless things to mind during pregnancy, then personally led her around the old residence to get familiar with the place.

“Xi Xi, Yancheng’s room from when he was little has been kept just as it was. Would you like to take a look?”

Fu’s mother suggested with a smile, her tone carrying a hint of teasing.

Qiao Xi felt her heart stir and nodded.

She was indeed deeply curious about Fu Yancheng’s past.

His room was at the far end of the upstairs corridor.

The room was spacious and bright, simply furnished yet tasteful in every detail, very much like the man himself.

Books were arranged neatly on the shelves, mostly on economics, history, and military affairs, with a few foreign-language originals as well.

Qiao Xi’s gaze drifted slowly over them before finally settling on the desk by the window.

A few photo frames stood there. Curious, she walked closer.

Besides several group photos of Fu Yancheng with his family from when he was young, one unassuming wooden frame caught her attention.

Inside it was a stage photo of her playing the violin at her high school arts festival!

It had yellowed and faded somewhat, clearly something treasured for many years.

Qiao Xi’s heart gave a jolt. She picked up the frame and studied it closely.

In the photo, she looked youthful and innocent, dressed in a white formal gown, absorbed in playing.

Even she had almost forgotten this picture. How could it be on Fu Yancheng’s desk?

And from the worn edge of the frame, it was obvious it had been handled countless times by its owner.

Suppressing the storm in her heart, Qiao Xi pulled open the desk drawer.

Inside were neatly arranged stationery and documents.

At the very bottom of the drawer, she felt a stiff old notebook.

After a moment of hesitation, she still took it out.

It was a leather-bound notebook, its edges already worn.

She took a deep breath and opened to the first page.

On the title page was a line written in Fu Yancheng’s slightly youthful, still-developing but already distinctive handwriting, followed by a date.

It was the year of her high school arts festival!

Beneath it, in smaller writing, were the words: “Saw her today, and it was like a flash of light.”

Qiao Xi’s fingers trembled slightly as she continued turning the pages.

It was not a diary, but more like a scattered collection of notes and clippings.

Several photos or article snippets cut from the school paper had been pasted inside.

There was news of her winning first prize in the physics competition, a photo of her speaking on behalf of the graduating class…

Beside every page, Fu Yancheng had written brief remarks in fountain pen.

What shocked Qiao Xi the most was a small slip of paper tucked into the middle of the notebook.

Carefully, she unfolded it.

It turned out to be a passage of confused, discouraged words she had posted anonymously on the school forum years ago, when her family had suffered a sudden upheaval.

At the time, Qiao Xi had used a pseudonym, pouring out her uncertainty about the future and her helplessness before reality.

Yet Fu Yancheng had still recognized her.

On the back of the slip, the earliest line read: “Why give up? What a pity.”

Another line said: “Found it. She’s run into trouble.”

And the latest line, still fresh in ink, had been written not long after they reunited.

“Fortunately, I still found you in the end.”

A tear fell onto the yellowed page, blurring the faint ink.

Qiao Xi hurriedly wiped at it with the back of her hand.

But the more she wiped, the more tears came, until her vision was completely obscured.

At last she understood why, after they reunited, he seemed to know everything about her.

Why he always appeared when she needed him most.

Why his gaze on her always carried a depth of attachment and certainty she had not been able to understand at the time.

So none of it had been chance.

So long ago, years before she knew anything at all, he had already placed her in his heart.

Silently, he had watched her grow, witnessed her brilliance and her lows.

Then, when she fell into the depths, he appeared and held her firmly beneath his wings.

He had not fallen in love with her all at once, but rather… had finally found her.

Qiao Xi clutched the notebook that had carried his secret for so many years, crouched down, buried her face in her knees, and shook as she cried.

She cried for his silent protection.

She cried for the deep affection of all those years she had never known.

And she cried for the reunion that had come so terribly late between them.

No one knew how long had passed before a pair of warm, familiar arms wrapped around her from behind.

Fu Yancheng had returned at some point.

He crouched down and drew her, together with the notebook, into his embrace.

He did not ask what she was crying about, nor did he explain anything. He only brushed his chin over the crown of her hair and said in a low, gentle voice, “It’s all in the past, Xi Xi.”

“Now, and in the future, you’ll be by my side.”

Qiao Xi turned around and threw herself into his arms through blurred tears, holding him so tightly she could not speak.

Fu Yancheng patted her back. Lowering his head, he kissed away the tears at the corner of her eyes. “Why are you crying, silly girl?”

“Having waited for you, however long it took, was worth it.”

At those words, Qiao Xi lifted her head in his arms.

Through tear-filled eyes, she gazed at his deep, dark pupils and said, choked with emotion, “Yancheng… actually, I know. I know everything now…”

“The one who had been funding me anonymously all along… that F.Y.C…. it was you, wasn’t it?”