This was a road Jian Dan had walked in her past life—but with a vastly different heart. Back then, she'd carried hope, anxiety, and eventually, crushing despair before fleeing the capital. Returning to her mother's house and also returned to the city where Du Yanran live had only led to further tragedies.
Now, everything had changed. She wouldn't suffer silently, nor would she let the Zhao family profit. What belonged to the Jian clan would be reclaimed.
The car wound up the lush mountain road toward "Banshan Wanpan"—Jingdu's famed enclave for the elite. Its slogan, "Live within a garden," reflected its exclusivity. In a city where land was worth its weight in gold, only the wealthiest or most powerful could reside here.
Though the Zhao family ranked among Jingdu's prominent clans, they fell short of the true apex. Thus, their villa sat only midway up the mountain—still a coveted address that lesser families envied.
The black iron gates parted, revealing a path flanked by vibrant flowers and winding trails. At the center of the courtyard, a circular fountain showcased a koi statue mid-leap—symbolizing a fish vaulting through the Dragon Gate. "Which 'gate' they aspire to cross... well, they'll never breach the cultivation realm in this lifetime", Jian Dan mused, her lips curling.
The car halted before a three-story Western-style villa, its white façade adorned with floral reliefs and a red-tiled roof—elegant yet understated.
Jian Dan extended her spiritual sense, scanning every occupant in one sweep. Her gaze lifted, locking briefly with a figure at the third-floor window.
At this distance, ordinary eyes would see only a blur. But Jian Dan, now touched by the Dao, saw everything: the pale, weary face, the thick brows, the downturned eyes and sharp nose. The man's expression was complex—hope, hesitation, something unreadable. When he noticed her stare, he startled, his slender hand yanking the curtains shut.
"Second Young Miss, this way. Your father awaits in his study."
Steward Zhao's voice pulled her back. She stepped through the entrance, where two rows of uniformed servants bowed in unison: "Welcome home, Second Young Miss!"
Their precision spoke of rigorous training. Jian Dan acknowledged them with a nod and followed the steward upstairs.
At the study door, Steward Zhao knocked. "Master, your daughter has arrived."
"Enter."
The commanding voice belonged to a man seated behind an antique pearwood desk. Bookshelves lined three walls, framing a refined sitting area with matching furniture and tasteful calligraphy scrolls.
Zhao Mufeng looked younger than his forty-seven years, his sharp features softened only slightly by gold-rimmed glasses. His piercing scrutiny raked over Jian Dan as she met his eyes without flinching.
"Father," she greeted warmly, though her tone carried deliberate distance. "I'm Jian Dan. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Steward Zhao tactfully excused himself, leaving them alone.
Zhao Mufeng removed his glasses, massaging his temples. "Sit. You must be tired from the journey."
"It was comfortable. Steward Zhao took good care of me."
"I know you resent me." His voice dipped. "For not being there as you grew up. But your mother... Well, she's gone now. Explanations won't change that. I only hope to make up for lost time."
"Don't blame yourself." Jian Dan's smile held a trace of melancholy. "I did resent you as a child. Other kids had doting fathers, while I only had Mother. But as I grew older, she explained everything."
She paused, her voice thickening. "She said your marriage was political. That you'd already loved someone else but yielded to family pressure. Even so, you never mistreated her despite her frail health. She knew you were unhappy... so after I was born, she begged for a divorce."
"You let her take me away, letting me take her surname. Mother never held it against you. She said... you giving me to her was her life's greatest blessing."
Zhao Mufeng's throat bobbed. Wordlessly, he slid open a drawer and handed her a photo album.
Inside were snapshots of her life: newborn family portraits, birthday celebrations with her mother, school achievements. In every image, Zhao Mufeng lingered at the edges—a shadow presence. "This album shattered my defenses last time", Jian Dan recalled bitterly.
Her finger trembled over her mother's radiant smile. A tear splashed onto the page.
"Thank you, Father. May I keep this?"
"It's always been yours."
He passed her a tissue, hesitation flickering across his face.
Jian Dan dabbed her eyes, then met his gaze squarely. "Before Mother passed, she asked me to return the Zhao family's twenty percent shares... and to see you on her behalf."