“Sorry for keeping you waiting, my dears. I had to take a call—it was work-related, from home, so I couldn’t ignore it...”
After more than ten minutes, Ye Lan finally returned to the ticketing area, her apologetic smile softening the wait.
“No problem, Aunt Ye. Sister Shiyu and I browsed the gift shop and picked up a few things,” Yan Huan replied with a small smile, standing to greet her.
He handed her the Big Banana Sweetie drink he had saved.
“Banana flavor? Oh, you know me so well. Thanks, Little Huan~”
Ye Lan’s smile deepened when she realized it was her favorite “no ice, less sugar” variation.
Meanwhile, Ye Shiyu, sipping her identical drink, watched the exchange from behind Yan Huan. Her gaze flitted between the drink in her hand, Yan Huan’s cheerful profile, and the extra cup he had bought.
Her lips curled slightly as she sipped more slowly, her usual stoicism tinged with subtle contemplation.
Taking the parasol from her mother, she stayed silent as they moved toward the aquarium entrance.
“Dear visitors, welcome to the Maritime Gate Aquarium. Our facility uses advanced marine ecology simulation to showcase a diverse array of marine life.”
The recorded voiceover guided the group into the expansive aquarium, introducing its many features.
“Here, we house and conserve over 1,000 species and tens of thousands of marine creatures while engaging in cultural, economic, and academic exchanges with the public...”
Descending into the first exhibition hall, they entered a massive underwater tunnel. The vibrant blue waters beyond the glass created a surreal atmosphere, the light painting rippling patterns on the floor and walls.
Schools of fish swam overhead like shifting clouds, their shadows dancing over the spectators.
Drinking his lemonade, Yan Huan let his gaze drift to the ground, where the light patterns seemed to invite a childlike game of avoiding the “shadows.” He stepped lightly between them, engrossed in his own playful world.
“It’s so beautiful,” Ye Lan remarked, closing her parasol. She touched her cheek thoughtfully, her expression warm.
“This reminds me of a movie I invested in that was shot here.”
Yan Huan glanced at her with mild surprise.
“A movie? Does Ye International dabble in entertainment? I thought your focus was on...”
“Semiconductors and renewable energy?” Ye Lan finished for him with a chuckle.
He nodded. Ye International was a powerhouse in the Maritime Gate, often hailed as the “semiconductor giant” and the “renewable energy champion” of the Dragon Nation. Each title alone was impressive, but having both made the company unparalleled.
“Exactly. All the high-end chips Eightbridge uses for his gadgets come from us. And those electric cars you see everywhere? Our batteries power most of them.”
His admiration deepened. "Aunt Ye" wasn’t just a kindly figure; she was a true CEO.
“It’s not the company—just me,” Ye Lan clarified with a soft laugh. “I’ve invested in a few media companies personally, and one shot a film here called Romance After Dusk. It even won a small international award.”
“Wow, that’s impressive.”
“Hardly my doing—I just provided funding. The lead actress, though, was quite beautiful. Her name was Bai...”
“Bai Yi?” Yan Huan blurted before she could finish.
Ye Shiyu glanced at him, her expression unreadable.
“Ah, yes, Bai Yi! Is she famous?”
“Not exactly. It’s just that her surname is rare, and she happens to be a first-year student at our school. I’ve met her a few times.”
Including her surreal antics during yesterday’s exam, Yan Huan thought wryly.
Ye Lan’s eyes widened with interest, turning to her daughter.
“Wow, Shiyu! You’ll be schoolmates with a celebrity!”
Shiyu merely nodded with indifference, her attention already captured by the surrounding marine life.
Ye Lan chuckled at her daughter’s lack of enthusiasm, choosing not to press further. Yan Huan, too, began admiring the aquatic scenery.
“Click.”
Yan Huan pulled out his phone to snap a photo of a passing tiger shark and sent it to the student council’s group chat.
[Yuanyue Student Council Group Chat (5)]
Yan Huan: Fish. Big fish. Tiger shark. 🐱
A few moments later, responses trickled in.
Sakura Kaito:
That’s probably a white-tip shark, not a tiger shark, President.
Yuliana:
Whoa, the president went to the aquarium! What made you visit there suddenly?
Eightbridge Mokki:
@Yuliana The aquarium? Must be with a girl! That’s a classic date spot! 🤭
Yuliana:
🤭
Ashley:
🤭
With Ashley, the council’s strict disciplinarian, chiming in, all five core members were accounted for.
Yan Huan replied simply: 🙂
Sakura Kaito:
🙂
Mimicking Yan Huan’s subtle sarcasm, Sakura’s response drew Eightbridge’s ire.
Eightbridge Mokki:
Sakura, don’t ruin the lineup with the president!
@Yan Huan Come clean—did I guess right?!
Yan Huan:
Just out with Aunt Ye and her daughter. She was a close friend of my late parents.
Eightbridge Mokki:
Huh? Seriously?
Sakura Kaito:
🙂
Locking his phone, Yan Huan smirked. Eightbridge has played too many dating sims if he’s always jumping to conclusions.
Still, the aquarium wasn’t the kind of place most guys visited alone. He glanced at Ye Shiyu.
She had wandered ahead, pausing near a cluster of smaller tanks in the middle of the tunnel.
The tanks housed delicate marine creatures like tropical fish and, prominently, jellyfish.
Under the dim lighting, the bioluminescent jellyfish glowed vividly, their translucent bodies shimmering as they pulsed gracefully through the water.
To Yan Huan, it was as if a constellation of stars had descended into the sea, each creature breathing life into the depths.
The gentle glow reflected in Ye Shiyu’s dark eyes, casting her somber visage in an ethereal light. For a moment, she seemed almost otherworldly—a living canvas of starlight and shadow.
Yan Huan watched her quietly, choosing not to disturb her reverie.
“Little Huan, smile!”
Ye Lan’s voice broke his focus. He turned to see her aiming her phone at him, her tone light and teasing.
“Say cheese!”
“...Aunt Ye?”
Caught off guard, he froze as she captured the moment. Lowering her phone, she grinned mischievously.
“This shot... you could star in a movie, Little Huan!”
“Uh... what?”
Walking over, Yan Huan peeked at the photo. The framing, enhanced by her phone’s impressive lens and a subtle filter, was perfect.
The rippling light from above illuminated his profile, casting his features in sharp relief. The result was a striking portrait of a thoughtful, handsome young man amidst a searching crowd.
“It’s all in the filter, right?” Yan Huan muttered.
Ye Lan playfully tapped his head. “Don’t be silly. Do you even know how good-looking you are, you silly boy?”
Her teasing drew a faint chuckle from him. He wasn’t one for selfies, so seeing himself through another’s lens felt oddly unfamiliar.
“Just look! If you smiled more, it’d be even better. Next time I produce a film, I’m casting you!”
Amused by her enthusiasm, Yan Huan’s thoughts briefly wandered. In middle school, he’d once considered acting as a way out of his bleak surroundings. His attempts had been fleeting, overshadowed by the hardships of growing up in an orphanage.
The bitter memories of those days stirred faintly before he pushed them aside.
“Want me to take one of you and Sister Shiyu?” he offered.
“Sure! Shiyu, come over for a photo!”
At Ye Lan’s call, Shiyu turned reluctantly, leaving her jellyfish behind to join them.
Handing the phone to Yan Huan, Ye Lan hesitated, then switched to a photo-editing app.
“Let’s use the beauty filter.”
“...”
Shrugging, Yan Huan obliged. He adjusted their positions for optimal lighting and squatted slightly to frame them better, careful to include the surrounding scenery.
“Click.”
The shot was perfect—Ye Shiyu standing tall and composed, while Ye Lan’s arms wrapped gently around her shoulders, their contrasting expressions highlighting their bond.
Yan Huan smiled faintly. “Perfect.”
Taking the phone back, Ye Lan examined the photo with satisfaction.
“Mom, the jellyfish keychain I bought this morning—it’s gone,” Ye Shiyu said, her voice calm yet edged with a chill that seemed to lower the car’s temperature.
Yan Huan blinked in confusion, only half comprehending the gravity of her statement.
The car began to slow, its steady hum fading as the driver pulled over to the side of the road.
“What the...?” Yan Huan instinctively grabbed the door handle for balance.
As the vehicle came to a smooth stop, Ye Lan and the driver, Ms. Liu, turned around simultaneously, their wide eyes meeting Ye Shiyu’s icy gaze.
For a moment, the three exchanged a tense silence, punctuated only by the faint whirring of the car’s heater. Yan Huan, seated between them, could almost feel the alarm bells ringing in their heads.
This wasn’t a new experience for them.
The unspoken understanding between Ye Lan and Ms. Liu screamed one undeniable truth:
“Level-One Alert: Ye Shiyu has lost something.”
In the charged silence, Ye Shiyu pursed her lips, her fingers clenching slightly around her phone. Her voice was soft but firm,
“I’d like to go back and check for it. May I?”
Ye Lan sighed, adjusting the shawl she had borrowed from her daughter earlier. Her usual warm smile was absent, replaced by a composed yet slightly exasperated look.
“Shiyu, are you absolutely sure it’s not in your bag? Maybe you overlooked it?”
“I’ve checked twice. It’s not there.”
Ms. Liu hesitated before chiming in cautiously,
“Miss Shiyu, I don’t recall seeing you open your bag at all today. Could it have fallen out while we were shopping?”
“No.”
Ye Shiyu’s curt response sent a shiver through the car. Yan Huan glanced at her from the corner of his eye, noting the tightly controlled tension in her posture.
She wasn’t angry—at least not outwardly. But the icy calm she exuded suggested something more intense simmered beneath the surface.
Ye Lan exchanged a meaningful look with Ms. Liu, clearly weighing their options. Finally, she turned to her daughter and said gently,
“Alright, we’ll go back and take a look. Liu, please turn the car around.”
“Yes, Madam.”
The car shifted gears, merging back into traffic with a smooth U-turn. Yan Huan, still processing the situation, hesitated before asking cautiously,
“Sister Shiyu, do you remember where you last saw it?”
Ye Shiyu’s gaze flickered toward him briefly.
“Before we left the aquarium. It was in my bag then.”
“So... somewhere between the aquarium and the restaurant?” Yan Huan deduced.
Ye Shiyu nodded slightly, already turning her attention back to her phone. She opened her flashlight app again, inspecting the interior of her bag with meticulous care as if she might have missed something earlier.
The ride back to the shopping center was tense but uneventful.
Upon arriving at the parking lot, Ye Lan suggested,
“Shiyu, let’s retrace our steps. We’ll check the shops we visited first.”
Yan Huan trailed slightly behind as the group made their way toward the aquarium’s adjacent gift shop, where Ye Shiyu had originally purchased the keychain.
“Welcome back! Is there something I can help you with?” The cheerful clerk from earlier greeted them warmly.
“My daughter’s keychain—she thinks she might have left it here. Have you seen one like this?” Ye Lan asked, describing the jellyfish keychain in detail.
The clerk tilted her head thoughtfully before shaking it apologetically.
“I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen anything left behind. You might want to check the lost-and-found desk at the aquarium entrance.”
After leaving the gift shop empty-handed, the group stopped at the aquarium’s customer service desk. The staff searched their records and held items but came up with nothing.
“Strange,” Yan Huan muttered under his breath, glancing at Ye Shiyu.
Her expression remained unreadable, though her grip on her bag had tightened slightly.
By the time they had retraced their steps back to the restaurant, it was clear the keychain wasn’t turning up anytime soon.
As they returned to the car, Ye Lan tried to lighten the mood.
“Don’t worry too much, Shiyu. If we can’t find it, we’ll buy another one. They probably have more in stock at the gift shop.”
“It won’t be the same,” Ye Shiyu replied softly, her gaze fixed on the darkened streets beyond the car window.
Yan Huan glanced between her and Ye Lan, sensing there was more to her attachment than she let on. The way her fingers trembled ever so slightly betrayed her calm demeanor.
For Sister Shiyu, it’s not just a keychain—it’s a piece of her.
Suddenly, a thought struck him.
“Wait a second...”
Both Ye Shiyu and Ye Lan turned toward him, curious.
“Could it have been misplaced while we were at the restaurant? Maybe another customer picked it up by mistake?”
Ye Lan blinked. “That’s possible... But how would we find out?”
Before Yan Huan could respond, Ye Shiyu’s phone vibrated. She glanced at the screen, her dark eyes narrowing slightly.
“What is it, Shiyu?” Ye Lan asked.
Ye Shiyu hesitated before holding up her phone.
“It’s a notification... from the gift shop. Someone just bought another jellyfish keychain.”
“Another one?”
Yan Huan frowned. His mind raced, connecting the dots. The timing was suspiciously close to their search.
“Let me see.”
Ye Shiyu handed him the phone. Examining the timestamp, Yan Huan’s suspicion deepened.
“It’s too much of a coincidence. Whoever bought this might have your keychain—or at least saw something.”
The car’s tires screeched slightly as it pulled back into the shopping center parking lot.
Stepping out, Yan Huan’s jaw tightened.
“Let’s check the gift shop again. If someone really bought another keychain, they might still be nearby.”
Ye Lan nodded, placing a reassuring hand on Ye Shiyu’s shoulder.
“Stay calm, dear. We’ll figure this out together.”
For the first time since the incident, a faint flicker of relief crossed Ye Shiyu’s face.