After briefly saying goodbye to Tang Zhiwei, Song Qingyi went through the enrollment procedures with Director Li. By the time she finished, it was nearly noon.
Song Qingyi stood alone on the steps in front of the administrative building, gazing at the pedestrians in the distance. Her fingers unconsciously traced the student ID she had just received, and she fell into a daze.
If Song Yueyue and Xia Beiji knew she was back, that meant the Song family…
"What are you thinking about?"
Her train of thought was interrupted. Tang Zhiwei’s voice came from behind. Song Qingyi turned around and saw him standing against the light, his silhouette rimmed with a golden edge by the sun.
He hadn't left yet.
Four years had passed, and this man seemed to have become even more striking, still carrying that undeniable sense of presence.
"I was wondering why you happened to be here," Song Qingyi said bluntly. "It couldn't be a coincidence."
Tang Zhiwei’s lips curled upward slightly. "Richard is a mentor of mine from my MIT days. He told me that an exceptionally qualified student would be coming to register today."
He paused here. "I just didn't expect it to be you."
The explanation was reasonable, but Song Qingyi couldn't help but feel it wasn't that simple. She calmly observed Tang Zhiwei’s expression, trying to find a flaw, but saw only detached composure.
"Shall we grab a bite?" Tang Zhiwei suggested. "To celebrate your safe return to the country."
"Sure."
Song Qingyi didn't think twice and accepted with a smile.
She stepped into Tang Zhiwei’s car and drove away from the school. Unaccountably, she remembered the night four years ago when her accident happened. Back then, she had fought with every ounce of her strength just to hold onto a glimmer of survival.
Fortunately… fortunately, Tang Zhiwei had been passing by that day. Otherwise…
"What would you like to eat?" Tang Zhiwei’s voice cut through her thoughts.
Song Qingyi turned to look at the rapidly receding campus scenery outside the window. "Anything is fine. You decide."
Tang Zhiwei chuckled. "Four years later, and you're still just as polite."
The car eventually stopped in front of a secluded, high-end Japanese restaurant. The entrance was so understated the sign was barely visible, save for a small wooden plaque with the characters "Star View" written in calligraphy.
Pushing the door open, a Japanese-style garden greeted them, and the crisp sound of bamboo striking stone echoed through the quiet space.
"Mr. Tang, your room is ready," a waitress in a kimono said, respectfully leading the way.
Inside the private room, paper lanterns cast a soft light. Song Qingyi knelt on the tatami mat, watching as Tang Zhiwei skillfully ordered a few signature dishes and a bottle of sake.
"You've changed a lot." Once the order was placed, Tang Zhiwei spoke abruptly, his gaze burning as he looked at Song Qingyi. "You're very different from four years ago."
Four years ago, she had been critically injured in a car accident, branded with the reputation of killing her sister-in-law, abandoned by her family, and left with nowhere to turn—yet she had managed to return to the country like this.
Song Qingyi picked up her teacup; her expression was obscured by the swirling steam. "People have to grow up eventually."
"Yes, growth is necessary." Tang Zhiwei repeated her words, his gaze locking onto hers again. "H University, first in Biomedical Engineering, finished a four-year course in three, published four SCI papers..." Tang Zhiwei listed her achievements over the past four years as if counting family treasures. "Richard said both MIT and Stanford were fighting over you."
The teacup trembled slightly in Song Qingyi’s hand. "Are you investigating me, Mr. Tang?"
"Necessary due diligence before a collaboration." Tang Zhiwei took a business card from his inner suit pocket and pushed it toward her. "TANG Biotechnology. We were founded two years ago and focus on the development of anti-cancer drugs."
Song Qingyi did not take the card immediately, instead looking directly into Tang Zhiwei’s eyes. "What is the meaning of this, Mr. Tang?"
"I would like to invite you to join the Tang Group." Tang Zhiwei paused, as if restructuring his words. "You are talented enough, and the Tang family needs someone with your abilities."
Whether it was his own selfish motives or simply a recognition of her talent, Tang Zhiwei wanted to bring Song Qingyi into the Tang Group.
"Could I go back and consider it?" Song Qingyi felt slightly flattered.
She hadn't yet considered joining any company. After all, she still had to investigate her grandmother's death and the car accident from four years ago. Trying to balance her studies, a job, and gathering evidence would inevitably spread her too thin.
"Of course."
As he spoke, Tang Zhiwei opened his phone to signal for Song Qingyi to add him as a contact. While she scanned the QR code, he added, his voice neither cold nor warm:
"Miss Song, if you join TANG, I can promise to help you get what you want."
Hearing this, Song Qingyi’s finger froze mid-tap.
"I don't understand what you mean."
"The Xie Wan case, your grandmother's death, and that car accident four years ago..." Tang Zhiwei took a breath and gazed deeply into her eyes. "Miss Song, do you really think these were all just accidents or coincidences?"
Upon hearing him mention these things, Song Qingyi’s pupils contracted sharply.
What did he know?
The day Xie Wan fell to her death, the Song family had deliberately covered it up—after all, having their own biological daughter accused of killing her sister-in-law would damage their reputation. By the time the dust settled and the news was released, Song Qingyi had been branded a murderer and sent to prison. No one except the victims, Song Yueyue, and Xia Beiji knew she had been framed.
Song Qingyi slowly set down her phone. "Mr. Tang, what exactly are you trying to say?"
Just then, the waitress pushed the door open, placing a delicate sashimi platter and steaming chawanmushi on the table. The conversation was temporarily interrupted, but the tension in Song Qingyi remained unbroken.
After the waitress left, Tang Zhiwei continued: "I just don't think someone like you should be destroyed by baseless accusations. Moreover, if you join TANG, I can provide you with the status and the opportunity to pursue the truth."
He lifted his sake. "This is a win-win collaboration."
Song Qingyi stared at the amber liquid, her mind racing. She truly did need a legitimate identity to get close to the Song family. If she tried to uncover the truth solely as the daughter the Song family had lost for eighteen years, she would face insurmountable obstacles. Song Yecheng had severed ties with her years ago when she first refused to take the blame for Song Yueyue; Song Julan hated her to the bone over Xie Wan’s death; and that was not even mentioning Song Yueyue, Xia Beiji, or her stepmother, Zhao Suihua.
Thinking of this, she began to weigh his words. He said he could provide a reasonable identity and opportunity.
What kind of identity?
"Mr. Tang, may I ask in advance what this identity is?" she probed.
"Gu Mingfeng's girlfriend. If possible, his fiancée as well."
As Tang Zhiwei finished, he paused deliberately, preparing to speak further.
Suddenly, Song Qingyi’s phone buzzed.
"Excuse me."
She glanced at it. It was a message from Richard:
[Just got back to school. I have an urgent project that needs hands. Are you interested, Song?]