Yancy Shaw couldn't help chuckling. "You’re giving me too much credit. I just wanted to kiss you."

His brows were full of delight, and it was obvious he didn’t mean what she thought.

Lauren Shaw realized she’d misunderstood. Her face instantly reddened like a burning sunset. To cover her embarrassment, she grumbled, "There's something on my lip—"

Before she could finish, his lips were already pressed against hers.

He cupped her waist in both hands, lowered his head, and kissed her deeply.

Sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. She closed her eyes, her long lashes trembling and catching the golden light—

Twenty minutes later, Yancy Shaw straightened his clothes, walked out of the office with composed calm, and headed for the conference room.

As for Lauren Shaw, she remained curled up on the sofa, her whole body languid, blouse in disarray, cheeks flushed—a sight to stir the imagination...

—

That afternoon, Yancy Shaw received a call from Lu Chaoran. The culprit behind the car accident had turned himself in.

Police station, interrogation room.

Lu Chaoran stared at the man before him, then glanced between him and the video footage. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

"You’re the one responsible for the accident on Beihuan Avenue?" he asked coldly.

The man before him looked nervous as he lowered his head, unable to meet their eyes. "Y-yes, it was me."

He seemed like a genuinely honest man.

"Officer, how many years will I get?"

Lu Chaoran was silent. The officer beside him rapped on the table. "Quiet down."

Lu Chaoran checked over the man’s statement.

The culprit's name was Jiang Kai, thirty-seven years old, a delivery driver.

According to the confession, he’d finished his route late that night when he accidentally hit someone’s car. Afraid of the consequences, he ran. The longer he sat at home, the more it weighed on him, so he came to confess.

On the surface, there seemed to be nothing wrong with his story—yet something still felt off.

Yancy Shaw arrived just as Lu Chaoran was leaving the interrogation room.

"Well?"

Lu Chaoran pulled out a cigarette, lit it, dragged over a chair, and sat down with his legs crossed—a picture of rough, straightforward masculinity.

"He admits to hitting your second brother and is here to turn himself in. He’s hoping for mercy."

Yancy Shaw’s gaze darkened. "Can I see him?"

Lu Chaoran exhaled a puff of smoke, looking at him lazily. "You’ll have to get approval from above."

Yancy Shaw picked up his phone and made a call. After a few words, the higher-ups heard that the third son of the Shen family was here and immediately granted him special permission.

Yancy Shaw stood behind the one-way glass as Lu Chaoran entered the interrogation room, placed a photo in front of Jiang Kai, and pointed to a man in the picture. "This guy has a tattoo on his neck. Are you telling me that's you?"

Jiang Kai stammered, "That—it’s a temporary tattoo. I thought it looked fun, so I bought one to stick on."

He appeared simple and honest, but in reality, he was sly and cunning. Since the security video hadn’t caught a clear shot of his face—he’d worn a mask—Lu Chaoran couldn’t prove anything even if he had his doubts.

Lu Chaoran sat across from him, eyes fixed on Jiang Kai, who kept his head down, not daring to meet his gaze.

"Who put you up to this?"

"N-no one." Jiang Kai was tight-lipped. Lu Chaoran interrogated him for a long time but got nothing useful.

Exactly like the murderer responsible for Old Mr. Shen’s death all those years ago—a man determined to take the blame at all costs.

Seeing that nothing more could be gained, Lu Chaoran left the interrogation room.

Yancy Shaw kept his eyes fixed on Jiang Kai for a long while, only collecting his thoughts when Lu Chaoran walked in.

"What’s your opinion?" Lu Chaoran asked.

Yancy Shaw replied calmly, "It's not him."

He’s just a scapegoat. The real perpetrator—either hidden or forever silenced. Judging by the circumstances, the former seems more likely. If he were dead, they wouldn’t bother to find a scapegoat.

The higher-ups would probably close the case based on this confession. As long as Jiang Kai stuck to his story and there was no evidence to dispute it, that would be the end of it.

But the real culprit was still at large.

Yancy Shaw tightened his hands at his sides and turned to leave the police station.

Clearly, if he wanted to uncover the mastermind behind this, he’d have to take matters into his own hands.

That night, when Lauren Shaw returned home, she didn’t see Yancy Shaw in the living room. Instead, she found him alone in the study, his expression somber, lost in thought.

Lauren Shaw assumed he must be exhausted from work. She walked over and started massaging his temples.

"Is the company burying you under too much stress?"

Yancy Shaw caught her hand, bringing it to his lips and giving it a gentle kiss. "I'm fine. Just wanted a bit of peace and quiet."

He was rarely like this, and she instinctively knew something was wrong.

"Darling, we’re husband and wife. Whatever it is, you can share it with me." She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned closer, and breathed in his familiar scent, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Yancy Shaw responded by gathering her into his arms, settling her on his lap, looking at her dotingly.

"This car accident isn’t simple. I can't figure out who's behind the curtain, but I’m sure it’s the same group who plotted against Grandfather all those years ago."

"Didn't the police say the culprit already turned himself in?" Lauren Shaw asked.

Yancy Shaw softly stroked her cheek. "I doubt it will be that simple."

—

He family residence.

Old Master He sat in the living room, fuming. He’d arranged for Henry Mills to meet a young lady today, but after sitting for over three hours at his old comrade’s house with no sign of Henry Mills, he finally stormed home in anger.

Susan Mills sensed the tense atmosphere and hurriedly messaged Henry Mills, warning him not to come home tonight if he could help it.

At that moment, Henry Mills had just reached the doorstep. A servant greeted him, "Young master, you’re home."

Henry Mills noticed the lights were still on and grabbed the servant, whispering, "Did Grandpa get angry tonight?"

The servant didn’t dare say much and simply gave him a meaningful wink.

A stern voice echoed from inside.

"You little rascal! Get in here right now!"

Hearing that, Henry Mills shrank back. He was afraid of Grandpa, but he still steeled himself and walked in.

Old Master He had once been decisive and ruthless on the battlefield—never would he have imagined ending up with such a defiant grandson.

"Did you go meet the girl I arranged for you today?"

Only then did Henry Mills remember the matter. He’d long since tossed the whole thing to the back of his mind.

He couldn’t possibly tell the truth now—if he did, Grandpa would skin him alive.

He scratched his head. "Yeah, I met her."

Old Master He gritted his teeth. "And what did you think of her?"

"She was... fine." Henry Mills lied without batting an eye, thinking he could get by with a vague answer.

Old Master He, infuriated, grabbed his cane and made to swing it at him.

Henry Mills wasted no time—he bolted for the door.

"You wretched boy! Even lying to me? I’ll see if a good thrashing doesn’t sort you out!"