The letter read:
"Jian Dan, my beloved daughter—
By the time you read this, I'll be gone. The lawyer should have informed you of what I've left behind. If you're reading this alone, it means you came here by yourself. Time is short, so I'll be brief—three things you must remember:
1. The magnolia jade set is an heirloom. Guard it carefully—never give it away. If you can't uncover its secrets, pass it down to your own children.
2. Your father is from the Zhao family in the capital. If they come for you, do not confront them unless you're certain you can withstand their power. If not, stay far away.
3. Trust no one who claims to know about my past. I've left you something else—the key is with this letter. Retrieve it and keep it safe.
I love you. May your life be peaceful and happy.
—Your mother, Jian Rou"
The handwriting was rushed but tender, every stroke brimming with a mother's love. Tears welled in Jian Dan's eyes as she traced the words, as if touching them could bridge the gap between life and death.
Knock-knock-knock.
Startled, she realized the bank manager had discreetly left while she read the letter. Wiping her tears, she steadied her breath.
"Come in."
The manager entered with a polite nod. "Miss Jian, will you be retrieving the contents of the second deposit box today as well?"
"Yes. Since I'm here, I'll take everything."
Then, a question burned in her mind: "What if I hadn't come alone? How would I have known about the second box?"
"Rest assured, Miss Jian," the manager replied smoothly, "our procedures are stringent. Had you brought someone, we'd only have released the first box. The second would've been held for twenty years. If unclaimed by then, its contents would be jointly managed by the bank and the law firm—though we've safeguards against collusion. A third party would've notified you at maturity. All to protect your privacy and rights."
"So that's why I never knew in my past life. Twenty years later, I was gods-know-where, and these treasures probably lined the bank's pockets."
"I trust your institution. Please take me to the second box."
The ritual repeated: keys turned, vaults opened. This time, the red velvet box held a magnolia hairpin and a jade ring carved like the flower's bloom.
Jian Dan's breath hitched. "No wonder Du Yanran had been obsessed with the pendant—it was part of a set. Mother split the collection… She knew I'd be schemed against. Thank fate I never got the full set last time, or—"
She shook off the chill. Beneath the jewelry lay a peony-carved wooden box filled with heirlooms: gemstone tiaras, pearl hairpins, jade bangles—each piece exuding luxury. The bottom layer held ten gold bars, neatly stacked.
"Everything's in order." She signed the forms, declined a carrying bag, and stuffed the haul into her backpack.
"All done. May I leave?"
"Of course. This way—we'll escort you through our private exit."
Security first. A cab whisked her home, where she finally exhaled on her bed, replaying the day.
"Last time, Du Yanran accompanied me—so I never got the second box. She wheedled the earrings from me that night, and the next day, the Zhao family took me away… Now, everything's changed."
Ring-ring-ring!
Du Yanran's name flashed on her phone. Jian Dan rejected the call, texting: "Busy. Talk later." Then she powered off.
Slapping her cheeks to focus, she unloaded her treasures. The magnolia set gleamed before her.
"Last life, blood-binding the pendant unlocked a high-grade storage space with defensive properties. But after that dreamlike past… I'm sure there's more."
The novel had glossed over this. Resolute, she grabbed a craft knife and slit her finger. Blood dripped onto the jade—
No reaction.
"What? It worked before. Why not now?"