The phone rang abruptly as Sophia Laurent nestled in Ethan Sullivan's arms, flipping through ancient texts.

Michael Gao's voice came through the receiver. "Sophia, there's a national mission for you."

She immediately straightened. "Go ahead, Michael."

"The E National Museum suffered a fire. Many of our looted ancient paintings were damaged. They've requested our experts' assistance in restoration."

At the mention of E Nation, Sophia's fingertips turned cold.

"Why should we repair what those thieves stole?"

Michael chuckled meaningfully. "Precisely because they stole them. For every piece we restore, we bring a national treasure home."

A brief silence followed. "When do we leave?"

"The day after tomorrow. You'll lead the team."

"Me?" Sophia was stunned. "The team consists of senior experts—"

"That's exactly why we need you." Michael lowered his voice. "Those old scholars won't defer to anyone but you."

Hanging up, she met Ethan's deep gaze.

His long fingers traced the jade bracelet on her wrist. "Leaving again?"

"This time is different." She clasped his hand. "I'm bringing our stolen treasures home."

Ethan sighed softly, retrieving a velvet box from his suit pocket.

A blue diamond ring shimmered under the light like the depths of the ocean.

"I planned to propose on your birthday." He slid it onto her ring finger. "Now, it has to be early."

The cool touch of the diamond sent a tremor through her heart.

"Wait for me to return—"

"I will." Ethan cut her off. "But wear this ring. Let everyone know Master Sophia is taken."

Three days later, E National Museum.

The silver-haired Albert Roscente waved at the entrance. "Over here, Sophia!"

Dressed in a smoke-gray cheongsam, she walked gracefully under the scrutinizing gazes of the senior experts.

"This is our team leader," Albert introduced her to the museum director. "Sophia Laurent, restorer of Thousand Miles Scroll."

The director eyed the young woman skeptically.

Sophia spoke in fluent English. "Take us to the damaged artifacts."

In the restoration room, the charred paintings pained every onlooker.

She slipped on white gloves, her fingers brushing the残缺的 Nymph of the Luo River. Her voice trembled slightly. "Every crack is a wound in history."

Turning to the team, she said, "We're not just restoring paintings. We're mending the memory of plunder."

The senior experts nodded solemnly.

Outside, a light rain began to fall. The blue diamond on her ring finger glimmered under the lights—like someone across the ocean, watching over her in silence.