Gu Jin was awakened by a slight coolness.

His consciousness was like a stone sinking in water, gradually rising from the chaos. His eyelids were too heavy to lift, and the lingering numbness in his waist hadn't completely faded, causing a faint ache with every slight movement.

He struggled to open his eyes, and what greeted him was not the familiar ceiling of his rented apartment, but a strange, light-grey painted ceiling.

It was a small room, sparsely furnished to the point of being rudimentary—a single bed, a wooden chair, and a filing cabinet in the corner. There was nothing else, not even a window, giving it a stuffy, oppressive feel.

"You're awake?"

A familiar female voice sounded at the doorway. Gu Jin sharply turned his head and saw Ling Fei'er leaning against the doorframe. She was still in her white shirt and dark jeans, but the buttons at her collar were fastened more neatly. She held a white enamel cup, from which a faint wisp of steam rose.

She stepped in, placed the cup on the small table by the bed, and her voice, devoid of its previous teasing, held a calm tone: "Since you're awake, drink some water. You've been unconscious for nearly three hours."

Gu Jin didn't move, his gaze fixed on her like ice. His Adam's apple bobbed twice, and his voice, hoarse from just waking up, was full of alert: "Who exactly are you? What do you want by bringing me here? And where is this?"

"Don't be so tense." Ling Fei'er pulled the wooden chair over and sat down, leaning slightly forward. "I don't intend to harm you. This is a safe house; no one can find you here for now. As for who I am—" She paused, tapping her knee lightly with her fingertips, "I'll take you to meet someone shortly, and you'll understand then."

Gu Jin frowned, about to press further, but Ling Fei'er had already stood up: "You just woke up; take five minutes to recover. I'll wait outside. There's no point trying to run; the doors in this place are custom-made, and you can't open them." With that, she turned and left the room, gently closing the door.

Gu Jin stared at the closed door for a few seconds, then glanced at the water cup on the table, finally propping himself up to sit.

His throat was indeed painfully dry. He picked up the cup and drank a few sips. The warm water slid down his throat, providing some relief and clearing his muddled thoughts a little.

He remembered Ling Fei'er's words before he fainted, the Interpol ID, and the rumors of his Aunt and Uncle's "feigned death and escape." His mind felt like a tangled mess, getting more confused the more he tried to sort it out.

Five minutes later, Ling Fei'er pushed open the door precisely on time: "Time to go."

Gu Jin followed her out of the room. Outside was a narrow corridor with several tightly shut doors lining both sides.

Ling Fei'er walked ahead, her steps light, not saying another word until they reached a door at the end of the corridor. She stopped, turned, and said to him, "You'll probably be very eager to meet the person inside."

After speaking, she raised her hand and knocked on the door. A slightly hoarse female voice from inside said, "Come in."

Ling Fei'er pushed the door open and stepped aside to let Gu Jin go first.

Gu Jin took a deep breath, stepped inside, and his gaze immediately fell on the desk in the center of the room—a person was sitting there, their back to him, dressed in a dark blue police uniform. The epaulets shimmered with a faint metallic luster in the dim light. Their posture was upright, and the silhouette of their back, as it registered in Gu Jin's eyes, held an indescribable familiarity.

That back... Gu Jin's heart suddenly leaped, as if gripped by something, his breath catching for half a beat.

He took two steps forward, his movements so light as if afraid of disturbing something. His mind was a jumble—the news of his Aunt's car accident ten years ago, the recent rumors of "feigned death and escape," and this figure in a police uniform before him, all intertwined repeatedly in his mind, making his fingertips tremble slightly.

As if sensing his gaze, the person behind the desk slowly turned around.

When that face came into Gu Jin's view, his entire body froze—the fine lines at the corners of her eyes were deeper than he remembered, and her hair had a few barely noticeable white strands, but those eyes, the curve of that mouth, were unmistakably his Aunt, Gu Pan, whom he had believed had died in a car accident ten years ago!

"Xiao Jin." Gu Pan spoke, her voice carrying a hint of rustiness from not having spoken to anyone for a long time. Her gaze fell on him, complex as if holding a thousand words.

Gu Jin stood rooted to the spot, his blood seemingly frozen instantly. He opened his mouth but couldn't utter a sound.

He looked at the police uniform on Gu Pan, at the familiar warmth in her eyes, and then recalled the rumors of "escape." A massive shock, like a tidal wave, engulfed him, leaving only utter disbelief—

Aunt isn't dead? Not only is she not dead, but she's wearing a police uniform? What on earth is going on?

"Aunt, what on earth is going on?" Gu Jin's voice trembled, his gaze fixed on Gu Pan. Ten years of longing and grievance, like a pent-up flood, threatened to overwhelm his reason the moment he clearly saw that face, and his eyes uncontrollably reddened.

Gu Pan looked at him in this state, deep guilt rising in her eyes. She stood up, intending to approach, but Gu Jin instinctively recoiled.

Her steps halted, and her voice softened even more: "Xiao Jin, calm down a little. Let Aunt explain slowly."

"Calm down?" Gu Jin suddenly raised his voice, his reddened eyes filled with unwillingness and pain. "Do you know how I lived these past ten years? After you left, how many jobs I changed alone in Japan, how many people bullied me, how when I was sick, there wasn't even anyone to give me water—do you know all this?"

Every word was like a thorn, making Gu Pan's face turn pale. She clenched her hands hidden in the pockets of her police uniform, her fingertips white, and her voice held a barely perceptible choke: "Xiao Jin, Aunt is wrong, Aunt has let you down. But you must believe that Aunt never abandoned you. These past ten years, I've been watching you every day. Every job you changed, every place you moved to, I knew about."

"Watching me every day?" Gu Jin sneered, the redness in his eyes deepening, but his tone was full of self-mockery. "And then you watched me live alone and orphaned for ten years? Well, I was just an orphan, unloved by my father and mother. I should already thank you for taking me out of the orphanage and bringing me to Japan so I didn't starve to death."

"No! Xiao Jin, you are not an orphan!" Gu Pan interrupted him urgently, her voice tightening. She took a step forward, looking intently at Gu Jin, and said word by word, "Your parents loved you very, very much.

The reason you feel like an orphan is because our Gu family is inherently a police family. Your parents were both police officers, heroes—they had to abandon you back then to investigate a transnational drug trafficking case, to protect you, and to uphold justice."

Gu Pan's tone suddenly paused, as if weighed down by something heavy, instantly becoming somber. The guilt in her eyes was replaced by a deeper solemnity, and even her voice carried a hint of barely perceptible tension: "Moreover, our Gu family has long been targeted by enemies."