In her past life, Du Yanran hadn't spoken like this—she'd outright asked for a piece of the jewelry as a birthday gift. This time, her approach was different, but Jian Dan had already achieved her goal: testing the waters. She played along, saying earnestly: "Yanran, you're my best friend. You're the only one I trust. I promise—I'll come back!"
She emphasized best friend deliberately. A flicker of discomfort crossed Du Yanran's eyes before she nodded.
"Since you've promised, you'd better keep it! Who knows what the Zhao family's intentions are? You should keep something for yourself. They might look down on these things, but for ordinary people like us, they're priceless."
Jian Dan smirked. "You're so worldly for your age."
Du Yanran pouted, feigning pride. "Blame my mom—she never shuts up about it. 'A mother's worry is eternal,' or whatever. You're stuck hearing it too!"
Then she froze, realizing her blunder—Jian Dan's mother was gone. Quickly, she squeezed Jian Dan's arm. "Don't worry. If things go south in the capital, just come back. Everyone here watched you grow up. You've got friends… and me."
Jian Dan believed the sentiment was genuine—after all, Du Yanran needed her close to seize her opportunities.
"No matter what happens there, don't hide it from me," Du Yanran pressed, gripping her hand. "Call me anytime. I'll help however I can. And remember—you've left your most precious heirloom here. You have to return! If you don't… it's mine forever!"
Her tone was a mix of teenage concern, stubbornness, and a barely veiled ultimatum.
Jian Dan lowered her gaze, a shadow passing through her eyes. She traced the jewelry box wistfully while watching Du Yanran's clenched fists—tense with greed. Finally, she looked up and nodded, as if resigning herself.
She slid the box toward Du Yanran, who exhaled in relief and clasped her hands. "Don't overthink it. They're family. Work things out calmly. Sometimes… letting go is the only way to gain."
The double meaning wasn't lost on Jian Dan. In her past life, she had let go—of everything—for peace. Du Yanran, of all people, would know.
With a quiet agreement, Jian Dan stood to pack. This time, it wasn't for show. The real Zhao family would arrive soon—unlike the lie she'd fed Du Yanran. She helped fold clothes and toiletries, lingering until Jian Dan seemed settled. After extracting a few more reassurances, she left with her prize.
The moment the door closed, Jian Dan's lips curled into a cold smile. "She won't bother me for a while now."
As long as Du Yanran believed events were unfolding as before, minor deviations wouldn't raise alarms. At most, she'd chalk it up to her own meddling—using her rebirth knowledge to steal Jian Dan's destined fortune ahead of time.
Last life, Du Yanran had only taken an earring. This time, she'd secured the full magnolia set. With the treasure in hand, fear of losing it would keep her distant.
After returning, Jian Dan had often wondered: "How could Du Yanran activate a Jian family artifact?"
She'd once dismissed it as protagonist halo. Now, she suspected Du Yanran was a descendant of Wu Fan—the traitor whose daughter married out. Generations of diluted blood might still carry a trace of Jian lineage, allowing basic recognition. But nothing more.
Satisfied, Jian Dan exhaled. Next came the Zhao family's performance. "Let's see what tricks they've got this time."
To her current self, the Zhao clan was a colossus. Without proper cultivation, direct confrontation was suicide. For now, she'd bide her time.
And she wouldn't use cultivation means against them. They were blood kin, after all. No—she'd repay them in their own coin, letting them taste the despair they'd once forced on her. That was justice.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.