The car eventually stopped by a beach. Song Qingchun was shoved along the path toward the sea by the taxi driver. Song Qingchun took careful steps, afraid that being rash might harm her baby. The scene as she was led to the beach was practically identical to how it was inside the car.

  Song Qingchun kept asking the driver questions, but the man was impervious to her inquiries. Song Qingchun was brought to a slightly worn yacht. Song Qingchun glanced at the ship twice. She observed that it was a blue yacht with white stripes as she was pushed into the interior.

  The shove was quite sudden and harsh; Song Qingchun staggered, falling forward. Thankfully, she grabbed hold of support at the last minute. Before she straightened herself, Song Qingchun heard the door slam heavily shut behind her. She turned around and realized that the taxi driver didn’t follow her in. She rushed towards the door to pull on the door and realized with a falling heart that it was locked from the outside.

  However, no more audience, Song Qingchun dropped the pretext of panic. She looked around calmly, trying to work out where she was. Even though the ship looked worn on the outside, inside it was clean and neat.

  A kitchenette, bedroom, bathroom, and living room—it had everything an apartment would have, just smaller in scale. However, it was still quite comfortable. Song Qingchun walked around the room. Other than the half glass of red wine and half-eaten instant noddles left on the coffee table, there was no sign of life. The place was vacated other than herself.

  Song Qingchun stood by the window and looked at the expansive sea. Then, she sat down on the sofa. It was then that she noticed the box of matches, cigarettes, and a faded photograph that was placed beside the glass of red wine. The picture showed a whole family; Song Qingchun believed it was the father, mother, and two sisters. The younger daughter looked like she was only several months old, sucking on the pacifier in her mother’s arms, her eyes closed.

  The elder daughter looked to be four or five years old. She stood between her parents, holding a paper windmill and a bright smile on her face. The mother, though, looked suspiciously familiar; she reminded Song Qingchun of someone.

  Song Qingchun frowned before it hit her. Then, her gaze wandered back to the elder daughter. Even though so many years had passed and the girl probably had grown up by now, Song Qingchun could tell that this little girl was Fang Rou.

  Isn’t Fang Rou an orphan? What’s with this picture? Amid Song Qingchun’s confusion, the yacht’s door was pushed open. Song Qingchun put down the picture and turned towards the door. She saw Fang Rou walk in.

  Even though they had not met for just a few days, it felt like years had passed. Song Qingchun felt like she was looking at a person that was not Fang Rou because this woman was so different from the Fang Rou in her impression. She couldn’t believe this icy woman was the kind big sister that she had known for the past five years!

  Fang Rou’s gaze swept Song Qingchun, and her expression was eerily chilling. She greeted her with a nonchalant tilt of her chin before leaning down to pick up the half-finished glass of wine. She walked to the faucet to clean it up before pouring herself another glass. She turned around to raise it at Song Qingchun, asking, "Would you like one?"