Chapter 2
Stella stood there so long that the food on the table went cold, and the streetlights outside lit up one by one.
Suddenly, she moved.
She turned around, walked into the bedroom, and opened the deepest drawer in her closet.
Inside was a rosewood box.
The box was covered in winding lotus patterns, its surface smooth and mellow from years of handling. It was undoubtedly an antique.
Stella opened the box and took out a photo.
In the photo was an old man with a head full of white hair, wearing a blue cotton jacket so faded it was almost white, standing in front of an old, crumbling kiln, with a gentle, grandfatherly smile on his face.
Stella gazed at the photo, her eyes growing misty with tears.
She whispered, "Mr. Bowen, you told me to spend three years in the world, to experience its warmth and coldness, and to see the many faces of human nature. Three years have passed."
She hugged the photo to her chest and closed her eyes. "I want to go home."
At the Ingbert International Convention Center, a big event was underway today, the Intangible Heritage Expo.
They called it a forum, but it was just a fancy trade fair. Artisans from all over the country had set up booths with their creations, putting on a show of real craftsmanship for all those pretentious rich folks trying to look cultured.
Upstairs in the VIP lounge, a handful of people lounged around, drinking tea.
At the head of the table sat a young man.
He wore a gray suit, the collar buttoned up neatly, revealing a sliver of pale neck. His features were refined, almost as if he'd stepped right out of an ink painting. But the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose gave him an aloof, almost ascetic vibe.
He kept his gaze lowered, quietly sipping his coffee.
Everyone else kept quiet, not daring to speak.
The air in the conference room was so tense, it felt frozen.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
A middle-aged man in a suit hurried in, leaned in close, and whispered a few words to the young man.
The young man's hand stilled for a moment.
The cup hovered in midair for a few seconds before he finally brought it steadily to his lips.
"She's here?" His voice was cool, betraying nothing.
The middle-aged man replied respectfully, "Yes. Ms. Barrett arrived half an hour ago. She's in the exhibition hall downstairs, looking at something."
He stayed silent.
He put his cup down and rose to his feet.
Everyone else startled and scrambled to their feet.
"Mr. Clarke?" someone called out.
He ignored them.
He pushed open the lounge door and headed downstairs.
The exhibition hall on the first floor was crowded and noisy, filled with the hum of voices.
Stella wore an utterly ordinary white cotton dress, her hair pulled back in a low ponytail, walking between the rows of booths.
Everyone around her was dressed to impress, and her plain look made her stand out. She looked really shabby.
"Hey, could you move?" An impatient voice called out from nearby.
Stella turned to the side and saw a woman in a long dress barking orders at people moving boxes. She looked about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, caked in makeup, with a chunky pearl necklace hanging around her neck.
The necklace's quality was nothing special, but the pearl was big enough to catch anyone's eye.
"Yeah, you. Move it, don't block the way." The woman shot Stella a look, her gaze pausing on Stella's plain cotton dress for a second before giving a little sneer.
Stella didn't say anything, just took a step back.
She recognized the woman.
Vera Conway, Anisa's older sister from the Conway family in Ingbert.
Vera didn't recognize Stella.
Not that it was surprising. Back when Stella was with Damien, he never thought she was good enough to show off and never brought her to any high-society events.
Someone as stuck-up as Vera wouldn't even bother to remember some orphan from the sticks.
"Hurry up!" Vera snapped at the workers. "This is the Conway family's main attraction, worth 100 thousand dollars. If you mess it up, do you have that kind of money to pay for it?"
Stella glanced over.
It was a cloisonné vase inside a glass display case. The thing was pretty big, but the peony design on it was loud and tacky, the colors all over the place, and the lines stiff. It was definitely the kind of work from a newbie.
Stella took her eyes off it, about to leave.
"Stella?" Someone called out to her.
Stella turned around and saw Anisa making her way through the crowd.
Anisa was wearing a loose maternity dress, her belly noticeably bigger than it had been a month ago.
She looked radiant, her cheeks glowing with health. Two nannies followed behind her, each carrying a bag, making a show of her status.
"It really is you," Anisa said, her face lighting up with a bright smile as she walked over. "I almost thought I was seeing things."
She looked Stella up and down, her gaze lingering on Stella's plain cotton dress.