Chapter Eighteen: The Origin of the Past

Chen Hao gazed with confusion and curiosity at the envelope that Gu Mengyan pushed over to him.

“What’s this?” Chen Hao asked.

“It’s an envelope! Are you really that clueless? You don’t recognize this thing?” Gu Mengyan replied, nibbling at her cake.

“Of course I know it’s an envelope. I’m asking what’s inside it,” Chen Hao retorted. “Don’t tell me you’re delivering another love letter from some female friend? I’ve told you so many times, stop helping people deliver love letters to me! If anyone asks you again, just tell them you’re my girlfriend!”

Gu Mengyan waved her hand impatiently. “It’s just a small favor. Why shouldn’t I help those gold-digging girls, hopelessly infatuated and angling for a shot at the high life, with a little task? Besides, once the letter is in your hands, it’s up to you whether you read it or not, or whether you respond. I don’t have the final say.”

“Hmph!” Chen Hao sneered. “You make it sound so noble. If you weren’t accepting their bribes, maybe I’d believe you’re just helping. But what you’re doing is pure quid pro quo! No, it’s worse than that—selling out my happiness for your own gain.”

Gu Mengyan scoffed and waved her hand. “Don’t make it sound like the sky is falling. All I got was a meal out of it! That hardly counts as a bribe, not even an equal exchange. Think about it—given your illustrious status, do you think a simple meal is enough for them to deliver their love letters to you? If, and it’s a big if, one of them ends up with you, that’s marrying into wealth! Her value would skyrocket. She’d gain far more than a meal, wouldn’t she? At that point, I’d have to watch my words when talking to you or asking for help. So really, they’re the ones getting the sweet deal.

“As for your suggestion that I lie and say I’m your girlfriend, do you think those girls are blind? Can’t they see what’s between us? Anyone with eyes can tell we’re close friends or like siblings, nothing more. Or are you saying that to shake off your admirers, you’re willing to sacrifice your looks and settle for me? If that’s the case, why not go all the way and have a wedding night? Better yet, get me pregnant—that’ll stop those girls for sure.”

“You…” Chen Hao was at a loss for words.

“Enough with that,” Gu Mengyan cut him off. “There’s no love letter in this envelope, so you can relax.”

“Oh?” Chen Hao was surprised. Not a love letter? Then why all the secrecy with the envelope?

With curiosity piqued, Chen Hao reached out and picked up the envelope from the table. He didn’t open it right away but weighed it in his hand. It was heavier than the usual love letters, and seemed to contain several thick, hard papers. What could it be?

Under Gu Mengyan’s expectant gaze, Chen Hao finally opened the envelope and pulled out its contents.

On top were two airplane tickets. Chen Hao recognized them at a glance.

“Hm?” He looked at Gu Mengyan in surprise. “Plane tickets?!”

Gu Mengyan nodded with satisfaction. “That’s right! Tickets for both of us. I booked them a while ago, planning to give them to you after you finished your overtime. But then you unexpectedly fell unconscious for two days, so I had to wait until today. Luckily, you woke up in time—otherwise, I’d have to reschedule.”

Chen Hao lowered his head and looked at the destination on the tickets, his brow furrowing. “Kestarl?”

After reading the destination, Chen Hao set down the envelope and tickets, took a sip of water, and let out a deep sigh. “Why go there? Can’t you let it go? It’s been so many years—I thought you’d forgotten about that place.”

He had reason to say this. Others might not know what Kestarl meant to Gu Mengyan, but Chen Hao, who had grown up with her, knew all too well.

That city was the source of Gu Mengyan’s heartache. The reason she came to live with Chen Hao’s family, becoming part of it, was closely tied to that city. It was where she lost her parents.

Years ago, Gu Mengyan’s parents were senior engineers at a company under a major conglomerate, working on computer programming. At that time, Gu Mengyan was just four or five years old. Her parents’ jobs took them to this remote city.

Calling it a city was generous; in truth, it was a vast mountainous area covered in dense, primeval forests. It was an isolated region rarely visited by outsiders.

Apart from a handful of locals born there, not even tourists ventured in. The terrain, climate, and environment were treacherous, and development was a daunting prospect. For many years, Kestarl was practically a no-man’s-land.

Yet, Gu Mengyan’s parents were assigned there by their company. Chen Hao couldn’t understand why a pair of computer engineers, whose work should have kept them in offices full of computers, would be sent to such a place. Was there really some advanced computer technology hidden deep in those forests and mountains? At four or five, Gu Mengyan certainly couldn’t have guessed.

She was simply excited to travel to a forest she’d never seen with her parents, just like any child going on a trip. Having grown up in the city, she’d never encountered a real forest. And with her parents always busy, they rarely spent time with her. This work trip meant no one would be home to look after her, so they brought her along.

It should have been a joyful occasion. For her parents, stuck in offices working overtime, it was a rare chance to relax, breathe fresh air, and spend time with their beloved daughter—a win-win. For Gu Mengyan, it was an opportunity to enjoy time with her parents and experience the beauty of nature far removed from urban life.

But none of them realized how wild and untamed their destination would be. The scenery was beautiful, but the rough mountain paths, the cries of wild animals, and the swarming insects were a constant headache.

Fortunately, her parents weren’t alone. The company sent several other staff. Some were familiar faces—other computer engineers like themselves. Others were strangers, seemingly from different technical fields.

The team’s expertise was remarkably diverse: computer science, biology, physics, linguistics—covering a wide range of disciplines.

Gu Mengyan’s parents were surprised. What kind of project required so many specialists from different fields? Was the conglomerate really so powerful that experts from all these areas worked for them?

Their curiosity gradually overshadowed any dissatisfaction. As for Gu Mengyan, she was simply delighted to travel with her parents and so many new aunts and uncles, with no hint of unhappiness.

As they journeyed together, her parents struck up conversations with many friendly and talkative engineers, making introductions all around. From these chats, they confirmed that everyone was indeed employed by the same conglomerate. Unfortunately, no one seemed to know the purpose of this trip. None had expected so many people from so many fields to be involved.

Most assumed the project must be momentous—perhaps a major discovery had prompted such a gathering.

Among the group were also people who were not engineers—mainly security and medical staff sent to safeguard everyone’s wellbeing.

But what surprised Gu Mengyan’s parents most was the presence of a group who were neither engineers nor support staff. These people kept to themselves, rarely interacting with others, always clustered around a man in his thirties. Later, this man became good friends with Gu Mengyan’s parents. He was none other than Chen Hao’s father—Chen Ding’an.