Chapter 1: Aurora – Yancheng Airport

“Mu Mu, want to check your luggage one more time? See if you forgot anything.”

Wen Yan was holding her mother’s photo frame, gazing at it. Her grandmother, Wen Qinhua, who had recently been confined to a wheelchair after a fall, rolled in from outside the room. Wen Yan looked up and set the frame back on the nightstand.

“I’ve already checked, Grandma. Everything’s packed,” Wen Yan replied.

To the right of the bed sat a solid black suitcase, with a blue backpack on top. It was now mid-August, the summer heat still lingering. Wen Yan was about to head to Huicheng Airport. She had just finished her college entrance exams this year with outstanding results—she’d earned top scorer in Huicheng’s science track and been admitted to Yanqing University, the best university in the country.

Wen Qinhua couldn’t take her eyes off Wen Yan. She pushed her wheelchair forward a little and grasped Wen Yan’s hands. The touch against her palms was soft and smooth as silk—she felt a brief trance. At her age, one couldn’t help but miss the bloom of youth. She, too, had once been this age, vibrant and full of life. And her third son and daughter-in-law had given her such a wonderful granddaughter—not only brilliant but breathtakingly beautiful too. She’d been scrolling through Wen Yan’s clips on her phone these past few days. After Wen Yan became the top scorer, she’d done an interview with the city television station, and because she was so gorgeous, the footage had spread quickly online, with people calling her the most beautiful top scorer.

But her precious granddaughter had an ill-fated destiny—too heavy. In elementary school, her father died in a car accident; before the college entrance exams, her mother passed away from illness. At the thought, Wen Qinhua frowned slightly and let go of Wen Yan’s hands. “Once you’re in Yancheng, study hard, understand? In our family, you have the best grades. Don’t disappoint Grandma.”

Wen Yan gave a low hum of acknowledgment, her eyes meeting Wen Qinhua’s. Her voice was soft: “I will, Grandma.”

Those pupils were too clear, too calm. Wen Qinhua couldn’t help but remember the day Yan Ping’s body was wheeled into the morgue. Wen Yan had been at the hospital too, but she hadn’t shed a single tear—she just looked dazed. The family had all worried that her mother’s death would affect the girl’s exams. But half a month later, Wen Yan walked into the examination hall as usual, performed without a hitch, and became the top scorer.

“Alright, it’s time to head to the airport. Mu Mu, your brother Luo is already downstairs. Go on down,” Wen Qinhua said.

Wen Yan hummed in response, stood up, and walked over to the suitcase to sling her backpack on.

Originally, Wen Qinhua had arranged for Wen Yan’s second uncle to take time off to see her off, but unfortunately, in the past couple of days, he’d been transferred to Hangzhou for a business trip. Everyone in the family was busy, so only Wen Yan’s cousin, Wen Luoju, had time today. Truth be told, Wen Yan wasn’t very close to this cousin—he was her second uncle’s child and had been working in another city within the province after graduation, so they rarely saw each other.

Wen Yan said her goodbyes to Wen Qinhua, put on her backpack, and pulled her suitcase out the door.

Wen Luoju’s car was parked on the ground floor of the underground garage—a white Audi. Wen Yan had ridden in it once before and remembered the license plate, so she found the spot easily. As she arrived, Wen Luoju was just about to text her with the parking location, but seeing her walk straight over, he rolled down the window.

Besides Wen Luoju, there was a stranger in the car—a young man Wen Yan didn’t recognize. She glanced at him, then turned to address Wen Luoju.

“There you are.” Wen Luoju grinned, opened the driver’s door, and got out. He walked over and took the suitcase from Wen Yan’s hand. “I’ll put this in the trunk.”

“Thank you, Brother Luo,” Wen Yan said.

“Get in the car first,” he said.

Wen Yan hummed and walked to the passenger side to open the door. The moment she sat down, a head leaned toward her. “Hey!”

Wen Yan turned to face a fair-skinned face. The young man’s hair was a deep chestnut brown, styled with gel. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he said, “Your brother said you got into Qingda? That’s amazing! I’m in Yancheng for school too, though just an ordinary second-tier university. I’ll graduate next year. Oh, I’m your cousin’s good buddy—name’s Xing Zhao.”

Wen Yan returned a polite smile. “Hello. What a coincidence.”

“You’re heading to Yancheng today too?”

“No, I’m just accompanying your cousin to play some billiards and dropping you off along the way. Nothing else to do anyway—our school doesn’t start until September 7.” As he spoke, Xing Zhao couldn’t help it; his gaze swept over Wen Yan’s face.

A breeze drifted in through the open window, carrying a faint, pleasant scent from the girl. Her face was exquisitely refined, carrying a striking impact—not the delicate, fragile type. A classic oval shape, but with bold, vivid features, and skin so pale it was flawless.

Xing Zhao’s breath hitched.

“Oh, we have military training, so I didn’t want to start this early either.” Wen Yan gave a faint smile.

Almost all freshmen had to start early because of military training.

Xing Zhao’s throat moved slightly as he pulled at the corner of his mouth. “That’s rough. Remember to wear sunscreen—don’t get tanned.”

Speaking of sunscreen, Wen Yan hadn’t bought any yet. She gave a slight nod.

They didn’t chat for long before Wen Luoju had stowed the luggage and returned to the car.

Wen Yan hadn’t traveled far in a long time. The last time she flew was with her parents, all three of them together. She’d been so young then that all she remembered was how good the cream puffs at the airport tasted. Coming to the airport again now, she hadn’t expected it to be after graduating high school.

August was peak travel season, and the airport was livelier than she’d imagined. The vast check-in hall buzzed with people coming and going. Though she and Wen Luoju weren’t close, he was a responsible cousin. Once at the airport, he helped her check her luggage and walked her all the way to the security checkpoint before leaving.

Her black suitcase was no longer with her; she only carried the blue backpack. The airport was air-conditioned and cool. After passing through security, she made her way to the departure hall alone. There was still over half an hour until boarding, so Wen Yan found a seat in the waiting area and sat down. Suddenly, her phone buzzed—she pulled it out and saw a message from Xing Zhao.

Back in the car, Xing Zhao had asked for her WeChat.

Chronicles of the Sea Hero: [“I know Yancheng inside out—feel free to ask me anything anytime.”]

Wen Yan replied with an OK emoji, realized she hadn’t saved his contact yet, and tapped on his avatar to edit his name.

The journey went smoothly. Half an hour later, Wen Yan boarded the flight to Yancheng. For her, flying again was a novel experience. But since childhood, her perception of everything had always manifested in a rather composed expression. During the two-hour flight, Wen Yan spent half an hour staring into space, then pulled out a copy of The Republic from her backpack and read the entire book.

When the plane touched down at Yancheng Capital Airport at 2 PM, Wen Yan disembarked and followed the crowd toward baggage claim. Like the airport back in Huicheng, the soaring dome seemed endless, absorbing all the voices, footsteps, and alternating Chinese and English boarding announcements over the intercom. The only difference was that two hours later, the ground beneath her feet had changed.

The baggage claim area was gradually filling with people, all waiting for their luggage to emerge from the carousel’s cargo chute. Wen Yan waited patiently. After a while, bags and suitcases of all sizes began moving slowly onto the conveyor belt, circling past every searching pair of eyes. Wen Yan looked and looked but couldn’t find her suitcase anywhere.

She was naturally patient, though, and didn’t grow anxious. Finally, nearly all the luggage had been dispensed, leaving only one solid black suitcase circling the belt twice, unclaimed.

The suitcase was pure black too, but she was certain it wasn’t hers—it was larger than her own.

After a moment’s thought, Wen Yan concluded someone must have taken the wrong luggage, since both suitcases were black and the one left behind was identical in color. There was no other reason for it to go unclaimed.

She hadn’t expected to run into this kind of trouble on her first flight in years. Frowning slightly, Wen Yan pulled the suitcase off the belt and hurried over to an airport staff member.

After hearing her theory, the staffer told her she could go to the baggage inquiry counter, where they’d help resolve the issue. Wen Yan followed the instructions and found the counter.

There were three service agents on duty—two women and one man—all in airport uniforms. They all looked her over as she approached with the suitcase.

“What’s the matter, little sister?” Before Wen Yan could speak, the female agent on the right asked proactively.

“Someone took the wrong suitcase. This one isn’t mine, but no one else was left at baggage claim, and my suitcase wasn’t there. Mine is black too,” Wen Yan said.

“Are you sure it’s a mix-up?” the female agent asked.

“Most likely,” Wen Yan said.

The agent looked at her again. “Okay, wait a moment. I’ll make some calls.”

Both suitcases were the same color, just different in size, so a mix-up was the most likely scenario—not intentional theft; the flight only had so many passengers. After responding to Wen Yan, the agent began calling passengers one by one.

On the twelfth call, she finally reached someone.

After confirmation, it turned out the other passenger had indeed taken the wrong bag. However, they had already boarded a shuttle bus and would have to get off midway and bring the luggage back.

After hanging up, the agent told Wen Yan, “It was indeed a mix-up. They apologize and said they’ll bring it back, but it will take some time. You might have to wait.”

Wen Yan wasn’t in a hurry—today and tomorrow were freshman registration days anyway, so arriving a little later at school wouldn’t matter. She nodded. “I’ll wait, then.”

Seeing no sign of complaint on her face, the male agent beside the one she’d spoken to looked at her and said, “Here’s the thing—even though it’s the passenger’s own mistake that caused your luggage delay, our airport is very considerate. To make up for the inconvenience, I’ll give you a VIP pass. You can go to the VIP lounge to rest and grab something to eat. When your suitcase arrives, I’ll have someone bring it to you.”

Wen Yan happened to be hungry. She said thank you.

“Do you know where the VIP area is? Never mind, I’ll take you there.” The male agent tugged at his tie and said.

“Leave this suitcase here for now. Don’t worry about it.”

…

“Where are you from?”

“Huicheng.”

“Oh, Huicheng—I hear it’s a pretty cool city, not as sweltering as Yancheng.”

“That’s right.”

“Are you here for tourism? Probably not—otherwise you wouldn’t be alone.”

“No, I’m a freshman starting university this year.”

Along the way, the male agent asked Wen Yan quite a few questions, and she answered them all. After this last reply, he gave her a once-over. “You’re not a Yanying student, are you? You must be.”

“…No. Qingda.”

That answer made him laugh. “You’re kidding me.”

“…”

Wen Yan fell silent, not bothering to argue.

“No way—wait, seriously, you’re really at Qingda?”

“Not to be rude, but with a face like yours, why wouldn’t you go to Yanying?” He realized after laughing that it might’ve come off rude, cleared his throat, and asked.

Wen Yan thought for a moment, then answered, “I don’t have any acting talent.”

Solving problems and studying were her biggest strengths.

The male agent couldn’t help but glance at Wen Yan again. He found her reactions remarkably composed, which only made him—a grown adult and an airport employee at that—seem a bit rash. He cleared his throat once more and laughed. “With that face of yours, if you entered the entertainment industry, you’d definitely make it big!”

Having been praised for her looks her whole life, Wen Yan didn’t respond to that. They had arrived at the VIP lounge, and the agent received a phone call—apparently something urgent came up, so he didn’t chat with her further. After dropping her off, he hurried away.

The VIP lounge at Capital Airport was upscale and grand. The lighting was a warm amber tone, cascading from the suspended ceiling. Genuine leather sofas were arranged in crescent formations, all in champagne tones, while the obsidian tabletops reflected a soft, muted glow.

Wen Yan scanned the room, and following the growl of her stomach, found the dining area. There was plenty of food here. She opted for a bowl of the local specialty—noodles with fried bean sauce—and a side of corn and pork rib soup.

The two dishes were neatly placed on a stainless steel tray. As she carried it toward the seating area, she overheard voices nearby.

“That man in the middle is so handsome. Oh my god—I want to go ask for his WeChat.”

“Forget it. That looks like the president of Yaohang Group. You really think he’d give you his WeChat? Don’t even think about it.”

“The Yaohang president? Are you serious? Their CEO is that young?”

“Why would I lie to you? My cousin works at Yaohang and showed me a photo of their boss. It’s him. He was so good-looking I remembered his face right away.”

The two voices weren’t loud, but they were close—right next to Wen Yan at the food station. She heard everything clearly and instinctively turned her head.

A group of people was walking in through the lounge entrance. The man at the forefront was naturally surrounded by the others at the center. He was tall, wearing a solid black bespoke suit, with deep, sharp facial contours and a taut jawline that exuded an unmistakable cold authority. His presence was so commanding that the air around him seemed to grow still.

Wen Yan paused, her gaze not shifting—and suddenly met his unfathomable eyes. His look was utterly indifferent, like a biting winter wind. The eye contact lasted three seconds before the man looked away first.