Chapter 85

Even after all these years, even after spending so long in this place, the truth behind his sister’s death remained a knot in Ji Chenbiao’s heart that he could never untangle.

He would never forget the year his sister left for college—how she smiled and waved at him, saying that one day the whole family would move to the city together.

He had raised her himself, and emotionally, she was no different from a daughter to him. After she died, he had countless dreams where she told him she was innocent, that she would never do such a thing, and begged him to believe her.

At this moment, Ji Chenbiao bit down so hard his teeth nearly drew blood. The metallic taste spread in his mouth, but he still forced himself to curl his lips into a smile.

“Mister, what are you talking about? I don’t quite understand. If you really know the truth about my sister’s death and are willing to tell me, then of course I’d be deeply grateful—I’d even repay you in the next life, as an ox or horse if I must.”

Pretty words were easy enough to say. And if that opportunity truly existed, Ji Chenbiao would want to repay him in the next life—but not this one.

Ji Chenbiao was no longer that clueless, penniless boy who’d walked out of the mountain village. Since this man had investigated him, he must also know how much Ji Chenbiao cared about his sister.

If he acted like he didn’t care, it would only make the man more suspicious.

“As long as you tell me how you can so accurately determine whether a piece of rough jade contains jadeite, I’ll hand over the real culprit who harmed your sister.”

To be able to bring him to this place again and again without alerting anyone—this man’s capabilities far exceeded what Ji Chenbiao had imagined.

He was well aware that the man in front of him truly had the power to uncover the truth behind his sister’s death, and also the power to deliver the real killer to him.

But even more, he knew this—if he failed to protect the secret, then his boy Dadan would become nothing more than this man’s moneymaking tool.

As for clearing his sister’s name—that had been his goal for years. He’d fought for it for so long already. A little more time wouldn’t make a difference.

“Just use your eyes to look. Haven’t you got eyes too? Can’t you see for yourself?”

The man sitting across from him snubbed out his cigar, pulled a cold smile across his face, and said:

“Quit playing dumb with me. Don’t think I don’t know.”

“Hmm? What are you saying, big brother? Didn’t I already tell you everything? So—how did my sister die?”

The moment Ji Chenbiao heard the man’s nearly furious tone, his heart relaxed just slightly.

He knew he couldn’t push this guy too hard. Rambling, stalling for time—that was the safest route right now. Mr. Zhou would definitely come looking for him.

He hadn’t been at Mr. Zhou’s side long. When it came to dealing with people, he was far less polished and composed than him.

He did have a plan—it just required other people to be present.

Right now, aside from himself, everyone here was under that man’s control. Put bluntly, even if he died here, they could probably cover it up without a trace.

After a long silence, the man finally reacted, slammed the table, and roared:

“You’re fucking stalling—waiting for someone to come get you, huh?”

This time, Ji Chenbiao didn’t respond, which made the man so angry he stood up and started walking toward him.

But just then, a voice sounded from outside.

“Patriarch, Mr. Zhou has come in person to pay you a visit. He’d like to ask—just because someone opened a few pieces of jadeite on your turf, does that mean they have to leave their life behind too?”

The old steward’s calm, measured tone instantly made Ji Chenbiao’s tightly strung heart settle. He knew then that he’d made the right call—he had held out long enough. Mr. Zhou had come.

When the head of the Sun family heard what the steward said, he was so furious that he smashed the cup in his hand to the ground. Seeing that Mr. Zhou was already walking over, he could only speak as if nothing had happened:

“How could that be? Mr. Zhou, you must be joking.”

If this incident spread, anyone thinking of doing business with them in the future would have second thoughts. The reputation the Sun family had built in Myanmar over the years could be ruined in a flash.

Most people who came here either wanted to strike it rich overnight or build long-term business ties.

In either case, no one wanted to lose their life over a deal.

“Come to think of it, my business isn’t actually based in Myanmar, unlike you, Patriarch Sun—you’re much more familiar with the local landscape.”

Mr. Zhou’s polite remark instantly put the Sun patriarch on alert.

“Well, now that we’ve gotten to know each other this way, next time I come to Myanmar, I’ll be counting on your support.”

“You know I’ve been busy lately with business. If anything comes up again while I’m in Myanmar, I’ll just come find you directly.”

“I trust such a small request won’t be a problem for you—right?”

The Sun patriarch really did want to refuse. He had no desire to be tied to Ji Chenbiao’s safety.

They were both smart men—no need to spell things out.

What Mr. Zhou meant was basically this: as long as they were in Myanmar, whether or not the Sun patriarch had anything to do with it, he’d be held responsible.

In other words, not only could he not touch Ji Chenbiao again, he’d actually have to protect him—and lend a hand if anything happened.

“And if I don’t agree?”

The head of the Sun family crossed his legs and had his assistant light another cigar for him, slowly puffing smoke into the air.

“Master Sun, please don’t make things difficult for me. My men have gone missing here twice in a row—both times because of this matter.”

“If you can’t guarantee our safety, I’ll have no choice but to seek help from others. I believe quite a few people would be very interested in this matter, wouldn’t you say?”

A scandal that could set the entire Sun family back by over a decade—any jade family doing business in Myanmar would find it hard not to be interested.

If he was taken down, there would naturally be others ready to rise in his place.

“This sort of thing… it’s best not to let too many people know about it. Look, I was just saying that casually, no need to get upset.”

Master Sun’s face darkened, but he nodded in agreement. Compared to the family legacy built up over so many years, the previous loss didn’t count for much.

On the way back, Ji Chenbiao was still shaken.

Only after arriving in Myanmar could one truly feel how comfortable and safe life back home was. At the very least, he didn’t have to worry about someone pressing a gun to his head.

“We were so careful last time—how did they know something was off?”

That question had been bothering Ji Chenbiao for a long time. Even now, he still hadn’t figured out where they slipped up. Mr. Zhou, however, had a fairly good guess.

“At the last auction, apart from us, the odds of others finding jade were very low.”

Mr. Zhou had recently heard this from a friend, who said it was the first time they’d encountered a situation where, after the auction was over, sellers were asked whether their stones had yielded jade.

It was already frustrating enough to walk away with nothing valuable, and now, as the host, he even had to rub salt in the wound. It was only natural for people to grow resentful.

That friend just assumed they’d done something shady, but Mr. Zhou, being sharp, sensed that someone was checking the yield rate from that auction.

When the data was reviewed, his lot had been the only one skipped—effectively making them the prime suspect in Master Sun’s mind.

This time, bringing Ji Chenbiao over was likely a way to confirm their suspicions.

“Did you say anything critical while you were there?”

“No. I just said I’ve got a good eye—one look and I can tell.”

Ji Chenbiao’s response wasn’t entirely airtight. If he’d coordinated with Mr. Zhou in advance, Mr. Zhou would’ve told him to deny everything completely.

Yield rate? What did that have to do with them?

Except for the one jade piece cut at the auction, the rest had been brought back and cut in China. Without solid evidence, no one could pin this on them.

In the car, Ji Chenbiao leaned against the back seat, trying to calm the mess in his mind and the still-thundering beat of his heart.

Right now, he was immensely grateful he had come up with that brilliant idea to take dadan place.

Even as a grown man, going through this a few times was already draining enough. He couldn’t imagine a little guy like Dadan handling it.

“After this, no one should come bothering you about that matter anymore.”

Though Mr. Zhou had appeared to speak amicably with Master Sun, in truth, it was clear they were blackmailing each other with mutual leverage.

From now on, not only could Master Sun not lay a hand on Ji Chenbiao like before, he’d have to protect him—and even work to bury that information to prevent others from making a move.

“Mr. Zhou, thank you so much. Without you, I wouldn’t have known what to do.”

Someone like Ji Chenbiao, who held his pride high, rarely admitted weakness in front of others. But now he did so without shame—he genuinely realized how powerless he was.

“No need for thanks. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten into this mess in the first place.”

“I told Dadan you were running errands for me, which is why you’ve been away so long. Don’t let that slip when you go back.”

Hearing that, Ji Chenbiao winced.

The last misunderstanding had already taken a lot of coaxing. And this time, it wasn’t just a misunderstanding. Who knew how long it would take to placate that little firecracker?

“When I was there, I think I heard Master Sun mention your sister? If you’re willing to share, I’d be happy to listen. If there’s any way I can help, I won’t refuse.”

Mr. Zhou had never heard Ji Chenbiao talk about this before, and he never had anyone investigate his privacy out of respect. If not for today’s events, he would’ve remained in the dark.

“Thank you for the offer. But I want to look into it myself.”

“Alright.”

Mr. Zhou had only asked if he needed help—being turned down didn’t surprise him. There were plenty of people who preferred to handle things on their own.

“Mr. Zhou, I’ll head back first. Dadan’s going to take some serious coaxing this time.”

“Alright, go ahead. Just remember to tell Dadan not to pick out all the jade again like last time.”

That last bit warmed Ji Chenbiao’s heart. Any other businessman would be eager to grab all the good stuff for themselves, but Mr. Zhou’s concern was clearly for Dadan’s safety.

In the hotel room, Dadan had been crouched by the window the whole time, watching. The assistant, worried something might happen, kept a close eye on him.

Only when he heard the door open did the assistant breathe a sigh of relief.

Through the reflection in the glass, Dadan saw a familiar figure walk in. Instinctively, he stood up, ready to throw himself into his dad’s arms.

But then he remembered how Dad had left him alone in the hotel without even a word of warning. His little face immediately fell.

Wearing a stern little frown, he crossed his arms and squatted back in his original spot.

Maybe it was the dry weather, but his hair had puffed up from the anger.

Ji Chenbiao walked over and crouched beside him, while the assistant took the chance to quietly leave and close the door behind him.

“Dadan, things were really urgent this time—that’s why Daddy didn’t get the chance to tell you.”

Back when Dadan was easier to coax, a few words from Dad might’ve done the trick. But not anymore. He frowned and gave a little grunt:

“How many times now?”

He’d lost count of how many times Dad had skipped telling him ahead of time and just came back later to apologize.

Besides being angry, Dadan also felt a little hurt. His eyes were red and misty. Seeing that pitiful little face made Ji Chenbiao’s heart ache.

“Sigh… Dadan knows Daddy pretty well, right? If I had the choice, how could I not tell you in advance?”

Just as Ji Chenbiao was racking his brains over how to reason with Dadan, the boy suddenly came up like a little puppy, sniffing him carefully.

At first, Ji Chenbiao was completely confused, until he saw the serious expression on Dadan’s face and realized something might actually be wrong. Still, he pretended to be clueless and asked:

“What’s wrong, Dadan?”

“Daddy, you smoked behind my back!”

Ji Chenbiao instinctively turned his head to sniff himself. There was barely any trace of smoke—probably just from being in the same room earlier when the head of the Sun family had been smoking.

This little guy had been angry ever since the first time he saw Ji Chenbiao smoking with Mr. Zhou, firmly stating he didn’t want a dad who smoked.

“I didn’t smoke. I was talking business with someone who was smoking.”

“Really?”

The strong smell of smoke was obvious. Dadan was skeptical of his dad’s explanation, and Ji Chenbiao wasn’t sure what kind of reassurance would win back the boy’s trust.

“Really, I swear!”

“Hmm? Swear on what?”

“I swear on the life of my precious little Dadan!”

Dadan’s bright eyes stared at his father, curious about the answer. But the moment he heard that line, his face immediately fell. He reached out to cover Ji Chenbiao’s mouth, sounding upset as he said:

“You can’t do that!!”

“Why not? Dadan, you see, to Daddy, you’re the most important person, right?”

Normally, Dadan would nod proudly without hesitation.

But not this time. He’d just been tricked once, so he was staying cautious.

“Right?”

“Yes, Dadan is the most important to Daddy. So if I’m swearing on your life, it just means I really didn’t lie to you.”

It made logical sense, but Dadan still felt something was off.

He thought about it seriously for a while, but instead of figuring it out, he just confused himself. Hugging his head with both hands, he mumbled in a slightly wronged tone:

“Daddy, you’re not supposed to bully kids!”

“Alright, alright, Daddy promises—never ever will I bully kids.”

Dadan wasn’t very satisfied, since his dad only made that promise after bullying him. Still, a promise was better than nothing, so he comforted himself with that thought and felt a bit better.

“Oh right, Dadan—this time Uncle Zhou said we can’t just pick the good jade materials like last time. We need to mix in some that definitely don’t have jade inside.”

“Why?”

Ji Chenbiao carried Dadan to the hotel kitchen to make formula. Dadan only talked calmly because he knew he was about to get milk.

“If other people find out all the good jade is with us, it’ll raise suspicion.”

“Oh.”

Dadan nodded in half-understanding, his chubby little face showing some distress as he murmured:

“But I don’t know how…”

He only knew how to pick the ones with jade. Picking ones without jade? That was a bizarre and ridiculous request.

“I’ll handle it when the time comes.”

“Okay.”

Ji Chenbiao handed him the bottle. Watching Dadan with puffed-up cheeks drinking from it made him look exactly like a grumpy little pufferfish.

Dadan sat on the couch drinking milk and watching TV, giving Ji Chenbiao time to take a shower.

He hadn’t thought much about it earlier, but after his son complained about the smoke smell on him, he realized how uncomfortable it made him feel to have stayed in such a place.

He changed into clean clothes, and when he came back out, Dadan was already asleep on the couch with the bottle in his arms.

Ji Chenbiao squatted down in front of him, intending to carry him to bed, but Dadan sleepily opened his eyes.

“Daddy…”

“Mm, go get some rest.”

Still half-asleep, Dadan reached out and gripped a corner of his father’s shirt tightly, silently expressing his thoughts.

“Don’t worry,” Ji Chenbiao said gently. “Daddy promises—when you wake up, I’ll still be here.”

Dadan, eyes barely open, reached out his little pinky. Ji Chenbiao gave a soft, helpless smile and hooked his finger with Dadan’s, whispering gently:

“Pinky swear.”

After settling Dadan to sleep, Ji Chenbiao sat alone on a balcony chair, staring blankly at the bustling traffic outside.

Lately, life had been hectic—finalizing his partnership with Mr. Zhou, renovating the shop, opening a new store, and now this second trip to Myanmar.

So many things piled up, taking every bit of his free time.

And on top of that, he had a small child to look after, who needed his full attention and energy.

It had been a long time since he last dreamed of Xiaomei.

Ji Chenbiao took out his wallet, pulling from it a slightly yellowed photo. It was taken the year he sent his younger sister off to university.

Back then, they promised to take a photo like that every year when he saw her off.

But sadly, this was the only one he ever had—and would ever have.

He gently rubbed Xiaomei’s face in the photo with a touch that couldn’t be softer. He stayed still for a long time, only getting up when his limbs went numb from not moving.

He carefully put the photo away. He hadn’t forgotten—he was just waiting for the right time.

The main reason Ji Chenbiao refused Mr. Zhou’s offer to help was because he wanted to do it himself.

He knew that everything now was moving in the right direction. Achieving the same success as Mr. Zhou was just a matter of time.

This exhibition followed much the same process as the previous one. Mr. Zhou had his assistant brief Ji Chenbiao in advance to avoid any chaos when the event officially started.

Unlike last time’s rushed preparation, this time everything had been arranged early. The wigs were of noticeably better quality.

Plus, Dadan’s naturally delicate and adorable appearance made him fit in perfectly—he looked like a foreign kid without any awkwardness.

Ji Chenbiao had even made up a backstory for Dadan, claiming he had a foreign partner who focused on their career. They met through Mr. Zhou. After Dadan was born, his partner returned overseas to continue working, only visiting occasionally.

Last time, things had nearly been exposed. Ji Chenbiao knew that despite the Sun family head’s friendly words, the man was probably still suspicious and would be secretly watching him during this exhibition.

Fortunately, Ji Chenbiao had learned a fair amount of basic knowledge by now, so putting on a show wasn’t hard at all.

With one hand holding Dadan—who had a bag slung over him full of specialized tools—Ji Chenbiao used his other free hand to carefully examine the raw stones. Just like the others, he wished he could somehow see something extraordinary in these ordinary-looking stones.

Dadan behaved the same as before—whenever he saw something he liked, he’d gently poke his dad.

For the ones Dadan picked out, Ji Chenbiao marked them in a special way. He also randomly selected a few more to mix in and confuse any onlookers.

Only after personally experiencing just how dangerous things had been did Ji Chenbiao realize how flashy and reckless they’d been the last time.

The fact that they’d managed to leave Myanmar safely and return home was all thanks to sheer luck.

Last time, little Dadan had been very greedy—he marked anything that had even a bit of decent jadeite. In the end, they basically bought up every promising raw stone in a particular pit.

This time, Mr. Zhou casually chose a raw stone to send for cutting, but deep down, he was hoping it would turn out to be worthless.

After all, he already had too many beautiful pieces of jadeite on hand. With so much in his possession, he didn’t need any more to build up his reputation.

If it was just the head of the Sun family, Mr. Zhou would help cover things up. But if they provoked too many people, even he couldn’t guarantee the secret would stay buried forever.

When the raw stone was publicly cut, the piece Mr. Zhou had sent over revealed a very poor quality jadeite.

Not only was its texture and water content unimpressive, but it was also riddled with cotton-like inclusions. Most of the people present were merchants well-acquainted with high-quality jadeite.

To them, it was nothing more than scrap.

Mr. Zhou could guess that quite a few people were hoping to take this opportunity to laugh at his misstep.

In reality, he wasn’t disappointed—in fact, he felt relieved.

When one’s power reaches a certain level, the word “low-key” practically becomes part of their bones.

As for the rest of the raw stones, Mr. Zhou had them swiftly transported back to the country. They didn’t stay in Myanmar for long—by the very next day, they had all returned.

It wasn’t just Ji Chenbiao who was scared now—Mr. Zhou felt just as uneasy.

The longer they stayed there, the deeper his unease grew. Only by returning to a familiar place could he finally release all those pent-up emotions.

That evening, upon returning to the country, Ji Chenbiao took Dadan to their usual roadside ramen shop and specifically told the owner to add extra chili.

The food culture in Myanmar was noticeably different from back home. Even though Mr. Zhou had arranged for Chinese dishes to be prepared for them, it just wasn’t the same—it always felt like something was missing.

Dadan hugged a bowl nearly bigger than his own head, slurped up all the noodles, and didn’t leave a single drop of broth behind.

After finishing the meal, sweat beaded on his forehead, and his already delicate features looked even prettier after being flushed by the spice.

Dadan didn’t care about his image at all—he wiped his sweat with the back of his hand, still sniffling from the heat, and muttered while catching his breath:

“Daddy, this is a real meal.”

The stuff they had eaten abroad, in Dadan’s opinion, didn’t even count as proper food.

So during their time in the overseas hotel, he mostly relied on milk formula for all three meals. Ji Chenbiao had initially assumed he was still hooked on the stuff like when they’d first bought it.

But now, seeing how hungry Dadan was for familiar flavors, he realized that might not have been the truth.

Simply put, the food over there just wasn’t good.

Ji Chenbiao originally wanted to lecture Dadan about not being picky, but after thinking it over, he realized he wasn’t in much of a position to do so.

Having grown up in hardship himself—surviving on wild vegetables for years—Ji Chenbiao believed that as long as food didn’t kill you and could fill your stomach, it was good enough.

Yet many of the dishes over there made him feel like dying might’ve been preferable.

On the way back home, Dadan held onto his dad’s hand with his little fingers, skipping along like a particularly energetic bunny.

Before they even reached home, his forehead was already covered in sweat, and his hair was damp.

“Daddy, it’s so hot!”

By the roadside, a park was full of blooming wisteria, and the weather was clearly getting hotter by the day.

“Little Dadan, you’re about to start kindergarten soon.”

“Mm~”

Thanks to his previous experience at the hobby class, Dadan wasn’t at all resistant to the idea of going to kindergarten. In fact, he was even looking forward to seeing how different it might be.

They hadn’t walked far when Dadan spotted a group of people sitting on the park steps—young and old—each holding an ice cream. He very noticeably gulped.

Then he tugged lightly at his dad’s shirt and stared at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

Even without saying a word, his expression made it perfectly clear what he wanted.

“You want ice cream?”

“Mm!”

Dadan nodded eagerly like a pecking chick and held out both arms toward his dad. Ji Chenbiao picked him up, turned around, and bought him a small popsicle from a nearby shop.

Even though the popsicle was quite tiny, Dadan was very content and ate it carefully, savoring each bite.

Ji Chenbiao wasn’t stingy about the money—it was just that an auntie had once reminded him that children shouldn’t eat too many cold foods.

Kids’ digestive systems are more fragile than adults’, and eating too much cold food could easily lead to diarrhea.

Having finally tasted ice cream for the first time, Dadan was in great spirits all the way home.

Under the setting sun, his energetic, bouncing figure was full of vitality—like a young seedling just breaking through the soil, ready to stretch its leaves and grow strong.

Back when Mr. Zhou had taken Ji Chenbiao to Myanmar, he’d promised that Ji could keep ten percent of the raw stones they brought back.

Once the raw stones had been shipped home, they were stored in Ji Chenbiao’s warehouse.

He placed some of them in his shop, allowing customers to pick and cut their own, while he kept the rest for himself.

At the beginning of a business like this, you need plenty of inventory and customer trust. But if you want to grow big, you also need a few high-value jadeites in your stock.

Even though Ji Chenbiao had only just opened his shop, it didn’t stop him from planning for the future.

Dadan was still attending his hobby classes and didn’t take much energy to manage. Even at home, he stayed committed to practicing.

Initially, Ji Chenbiao thought Dadan might genuinely love calligraphy, and that he had stumbled onto his son’s real passion by accident.

But one day, when business was slow and he got home early, he found Dadan hunched over the table practicing calligraphy—muttering under his breath as he wrote:

“One yuan, two yuan, three yuan…”

“Earn one yuan for every character I learn.”

He mumbled in a soft voice, as if that would help him earn back the money spent on those hobby classes.

The child’s naive idea made Ji Chenbiao feel both amused and helpless.

Most of Ji Chenbiao’s attention was focused on running the shop. Mr. Zhou had sent over his most experienced assistant to help him out. With this assistant’s support, Ji Chenbiao managed to avoid many detours.

In the month following their return from Myanmar, the shop’s profits were impressive. Ji Chenbiao took a large portion of the earnings and set it aside to begin a serious investigation into what had happened to his younger sister back then.

So much time had passed with no leads that Ji Chenbiao had no idea where to even begin. Aside from firmly believing that his sister had been wronged, he couldn’t guarantee anything else. The man who had helped him investigate before was now married and had a family, so asking him for help again clearly wouldn’t be appropriate.

Ji Chenbiao spent quite a bit of money and contacted a detective over in Haicheng, deciding to start by looking into the man who had once been rumored to have an ambiguous relationship with his sister.

Money makes the world go round. Ji Chenbiao had paid generously, and within just half a month, he received a package from Haicheng.

When he opened it, aside from some documents, the bulk of the contents were photographs.

Ji Chenbiao couldn’t read, so he set the documents aside for the time being. He casually picked up one of the photos and, with just one glance, found that he couldn’t look away.

He felt that the man in the photo looked strangely familiar—though he couldn’t quite say why.