Seeing her turn away in shame and indignation, Xie Yucheng curled his lips into a malicious smirk. “Little sister, I thought your face was as thick as a city wall.”
The visible reddening of Shi Qing’s ears spread across the room, her subtle body fragrance lingering in the small bedroom.
Somehow, Xie Yucheng felt his restlessness and irritation rising. He suddenly stepped forward, trapping her against the door, leaning down to whisper a threat by the girl’s ear:
“Stop hovering around me. Just like your mother said, I’m not a good person. I’m capable of any low-life behavior.”
He brushed aside the stray hairs along her fair neck, his lips nearly touching her skin, his scorching breath washing over Shi Qing’s vulnerable flesh.
The sensation made her shiver involuntarily, a certain spot in her chest beating faster and faster.
Then, the man cupped her small face with one hand, drawing close to utter the most hurtful words in an extremely suggestive tone:
“Don’t expect time to fade anything. I despise you and your mother as much as ever.”
I despise you and your mother as much as ever…
Her heart sank completely, as if being pressed into a bottomless black abyss, suffocating.
If Wen Shiqing had been floating carefree toward rainbows just moments before, now she was utterly shattered in body and soul, plunged into despair.
Her body trembled slightly, her hand gripping the doorknob tightly. After a moment, she said softly, “Brother, I’m not afraid of you.”
What did this count for? Since childhood, she had heard every vicious remark imaginable.
She knew well that however venomous Xie Yucheng’s words were, his heart was equally soft.
Wen Shiqing touched the pink jade pendant hanging around her neck—the one Xie Yucheng had given her five years ago after his first transport business trip. Those days happened to coincide with her approaching birthday.
When he returned home, he had coldly tossed a velvet box onto the table beside her without a word.
After observing him for a while, Wen Shiqing carefully opened the box. Inside lay a circular, crystal-clear, and full pink jade pendant, simple in design, paired with a light beige braided cord—exquisitely beautiful.
She took it out with a giggle, excitedly holding it up against her neck. “Brother, is this for me?”
“I picked it up by the roadside. I can’t wear it—I’m a boy.”
“Brother is so amazing, always finding such nice things.”
“Don’t tell your mom, or it’ll bring bad luck and I won’t find anything else.”
As she grew older, Wen Shiqing gradually realized that all those so-called “found trinkets” were actually gifts he had specifically bought for her.
The pink jade against her neck felt warm and smooth, radiating a gentle heat.
The tall figure of the man behind her enveloped her, his intense masculine aura surrounding her completely.
Steadying her emotions, Wen Shiqing’s voice wound around like vines clinging to branches: “Time indeed won’t fade anything, because I will like Brother just as much as ever.”
With that, she opened the door and walked out on her own.
The moment the door closed, Xie Yucheng gritted his teeth and muttered a low “Damn,” seemingly annoyed that he hadn’t witnessed the spectacularly furious expression he had anticipated.
He knew that the “like” Wen Shiqing spoke of was a sister’s affection for her brother.
Every day, Xie Yucheng reminded himself not to forget his mother.
Being kind to this mother and daughter would be a betrayal of his own birth mother.
He wasn’t sure when his father, Xie Guoli, had gotten involved with Yang Ying—was it before his mother passed away, or after?
Less than three months after his mother’s death, Yang Ying moved into their home and slept in the large bed his mother had once occupied.
His father packed away all his mother’s belongings, locked them in cabinets, and forbade any trace of her remaining in the house.
What a cold, resolute man.
Xie Yucheng hardened his heart, refusing to show any kindness to either of them.
Yet that little Shi Qing—his stepmother’s ten-year-old daughter—would quietly climb onto his bed late at night after Xie Guoli had beaten him black and blue with a cane. Pouting, she’d gently blow on his wounds, whispering, “Brother, blowing on it makes it hurt less.”
In that dark night, Xie Yucheng’s heart melted like a cream cake, collapsing bit by bit.
Around eleven in the morning, Xie Yucheng finished packing his clothes and was about to leave home with a travel bag when Yang Ying approached him.
“Your father is ill,” she said. “His stomach hasn’t been well these past two years—frequent nausea, barely eating. You should spend more time with him while you’re home.”
Xie Yucheng froze slightly. He’d always thought the old man, though lame, was otherwise healthy.
“Has he been to the hospital for tests?”
“Yes. The doctor said it’s gastrointestinal issues that need careful management.”
“I’ll go see him.” He returned the bag to his room and pushed open the master bedroom door.
Xie Guoli was leaning against the headboard reading. Having eaten little these past few days, he’d grown noticeably thinner, his cheeks slightly sunken.
“How are you feeling?”
After all, this was his biological father—he couldn’t avoid showing some concern.
“It’s nothing,” Xie Guoli forced a smile. “Just some stomach troubles lately.”
“When are you leaving this time?”
Xie Yucheng hadn’t told his father about planning to quit his job and buy a truck to work independently. If he did, Xie Guoli would explode in anger—so he kept it secret.
“The factory granted me extended leave. Probably leaving in a few days.”
“Since you’re back, stay home and rest properly. Let Aunt Yang cook you decent meals. Always running around outside—don’t you get tired?”
Yang Ying approached wearing an apron. “Stay for lunch.”
Xie Guoli added, “Leave after the meal.”
Xie Yucheng considered briefly and remained silent.
The old man was unwell these days—better not anger him. Wouldn’t want to become the villain who worsened his condition.
Seeing his son’s silence as agreement to stay for lunch, Xie Guoli perked up immediately. He dressed and sat in the living room chatting with his son.
As a silent black-and-white film played on television, Wen Shiqing prepared a cup of honey water for Xie Guoli and poured tea for Xie Yucheng before quietly sitting at the dining table to sort vegetables.
Xie Guoli sipped from his thermos, the sweetness spreading warmth through his stomach. He smiled at Wen Shiqing before turning to his son:
“Have you found a girlfriend out there?”
The girl’s hands stilled momentarily among the vegetables. Her ears perked up as she slowly picked out yellowed leaves.
Sprawled lazily in the armchair, Xie Yucheng avoided looking at his father, his gaze unconsciously settling on those vegetable-sorting hands—slender, pale, soft, with neatly trimmed oval nails.
His throat dry, he took two gulps of tea before responding languidly, “No.”
“You’re not getting any younger—should start considering your personal life. Aunt Zhang from next door has visited several times wanting to introduce you to someone, but you’re never home.”
Xie Guoli reached into his pocket to light a cigarette, then remembered Yang Ying had forbidden him from smoking and confiscated all his cigarettes. His hand came up empty.
“I don’t want to consider it.”
“Why not?”
“What’s the point of marriage?”
Xie Guoli spoke with grave sincerity: “When you reach a certain age, you should get married. Having a partner means having someone to share your life with. Building a stable life together is better than being alone.”
“Of course, if there’s a girl you truly love, you can bring her home to meet us. If she’s suitable, I’ll help you propose to her parents.”
Xie Yucheng maintained his careless posture, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth before locking eyes with his father. He suddenly let out a cold laugh:
“Love? What is love? When you were all lovey-dovey with Mom, you kept saying you loved her every day. And what happened in the end?”
Xie Guoli was infuriated by these words, breathing heavily as he suppressed his emotions. “Don’t mention your mother.”
“Heh, now we can’t even mention her. Cutting off all affection and loyalty—that’s really something, Xie Guoli.”
Yang Ying heard the father and son arguing from the kitchen and hurried over to mediate. “Guoli, Yucheng rarely eats at home. What are you doing?”
She then turned to Xie Yucheng with an apologetic smile: “Yucheng, don’t be angry. Your father is just concerned about you. When men and women come of age, they should marry. Like Nannan—she’ll be going on blind dates soon too. You’re all grown up now and should start thinking about your personal lives. If you don’t consider it yourselves, we as parents have to consider it for you.”
Xie Yucheng seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world, casting an amused look at Wen Shiqing sitting at the dining table.
She looked flustered and quickly waved her hands. “No, I… I’m not going on any blind dates.”
Wen Shiqing said to her mother: “Mom, I told you I don’t want to go on blind dates. I’m still so young—I want to work for a couple of years first.”
Yang Ying said: “Nannan, Mom only wants what’s best for you. Settling down early means there’ll be a boy to take care of you and protect you in the future. A matchmaker has come to our house several times—the boy comes from a very good family, is around your age, and quite handsome. I agreed with her the day before yesterday that you two would meet on Sunday. Whether it works out or not is another matter—just think of it as making a friend.”
“Mom, you…”
Xie Guoli also chimed in: “Shi Qing, you’ve always been the most obedient. Set a good example for your brother.”
Wen Shiqing felt like a duck being roasted over fire—already dead and done for.
She hung her head, enduring Xie Yucheng’s piercing gaze that seemed to see right through her.
After the meal, Yang Ying was washing pots in the kitchen, Xie Guoli had returned to his room, and Wen Shiqing was absentmindedly wiping the table with a cloth.
The hem of her floral dress swayed with her graceful movements, her slender exposed arms and neck glowing white, her waist so slim it could be encircled with one hand. Her entire petite figure resembled a freshly bloomed flower.
Xie Yucheng picked up his bag to leave, took two steps, then turned back and approached Wen Shiqing from behind.
As a soft, fragrant scent filled his nostrils, he patted her shoulder with a hint of mockery:
“Little sister, remember to share your blind date experiences with me. If you take a liking to any man, your brother can help vet him for you.”
Wen Shiqing’s hand froze. After a long pause, she responded: “Okay.”
A muscle twitched in Xie Yucheng’s face. He let out a cold laugh, slung his bag over his shoulder, and turned to leave.
The roaring sound of a motorcycle from outside the courtyard was particularly deafening. With a final “vroom~”, the noise faded into the distance until it completely disappeared.