Sikong Sui didn’t know why she had asked that question.
Perhaps the night wind was too strong, blowing her mind into a daze.
Letting the words she had held in her heart for so long slip out on their own.
She followed behind Sikong Nian, watching his back, and those words slid out from her throat on their own, impossible to hold back.
Sikong Nian’s footsteps paused.
His height of 1.87 meters perfectly blocked the streetlight, casting Sikong Sui into a shadow.
His shoulders stiffened for a moment before relaxing, his entire demeanor returning to its gentle state.
He turned around, the streetlight falling on his face. On his fair, jade-like skin, a pair of captivating peach blossom eyes truly resembled a male lead straight out of a novel.
“Have I?” he asked, his voice soft and pleasant.
Sikong Sui looked at him, at his impossibly gentle face, and suddenly felt something lodged in her chest.
Unable to rise or fall.
She lowered her head, “Brother…”
Sikong Sui’s voice was very, very soft, “We’re not biological siblings, right?”
Sikong Nian turned away.
His movement was swift, an instinctive turn to prevent her from seeing his expression.
“Yes, we both belong to the Sikong family, but we’re from different branches.”
The bloodline structure of the Sikong family resembled a massive tree.
The main trunk was the lineage of the crown prince, with countless small branches diverging from the side branches.
Sikong Sui belonged to one of the less prominent side branches.
She was adopted into the main family, becoming Sikong Nian’s younger sister.
“Then why is our pheromone compatibility one hundred percent?”
Sikong Nian fell silent for even longer.
This silence was deeper and heavier than the last, like a massive stone pressing down between the two of them.
The night was dark. She wanted to walk in front of him to see his expression at that moment.
But her feet seemed nailed to the ground, unable to take a single step.
“Perhaps it’s fate,” Sikong Nian said.
He reached out, his broad palm landing on her head, gently ruffling her hair.
“Why think so much?” His tone was as if coaxing a child.
“Brother will always be your brother, will never hurt you, and will always protect you.”
He paused, lowering his head to look into her eyes. Her face was reflected in his deep, unfathomable black eyes.
Her cheeks flushed red from the night wind, her slightly reddened nose, and those bright, sparkling eyes.
“Suisui must also always protect Brother, okay?”
Sikong Sui looked at him and nodded solemnly, as if signing a contract that could never be broken.
Sikong Nian smiled, a smile so gentle it made one want to cry.
He withdrew his hand, turned around, and continued walking forward.
Sikong Sui followed behind him, head lowered, watching their shadows under the streetlight stretch and shrink.
Overlapping and separating.
She said to herself in her heart: I have to stay away from Brother from now on.
Fu Yuan is a jealous person.
Tonight, Fu Yuan’s affection had already dropped. If this continued, his affection would turn negative.
How would she ever get home?
Her mission was to complete the Affection Quest for four targets, to help Brother and Fu Yuan get together.
Not to become the third party between Brother and Fu Yuan.
She couldn’t become that person, she just couldn’t.
But Sikong Sui looked up, watching Sikong Nian’s retreating figure, his broad shoulders and slightly bowed head—why did his back look so lonely?
Why did his voice carry a complex emotion she couldn’t understand when he said “fated”?
She shook her head, pushing those messy thoughts away.
Don’t think about it.
Can’t think about it.
If she kept thinking, she’d just get tangled up in it.
When she returned to the villa, the light in Pei Sichen’s room was still off.
Sikong Sui went back to her room, closed the door, and threw herself into the soft blankets.
Lying in bed, she couldn’t sleep at all.
Her mind was too full, as if a hundred people were arguing all at once.
Too many worries swirled together like a pot of overcooked porridge, sticky and impossible to untangle.
She rolled over, pulling the blanket up to her chin, and stared at the ceiling.
Only two months left.
Xie Ren still hadn’t returned, and she didn’t know when he would.
He had promised to come back to see her every month. Was he about to return soon…?
Pei Sichen’s favorability was negative.
One kiss had cost ten points. Two more kisses and it might drop below negative one hundred.
Sikong Sui covered her face with her hands, remembering that out-of-control kiss.
Did he really hate her?
And then there was Fu Yuan.
And… her brother.
And that Gu Shiyan.
When Sikong Sui thought of Gu Shiyan, her frown deepened.
She rolled over again, burying her face in the pillow.
So annoying.
Really, so annoying.
The next morning.
Sikong Sui walked into the classroom with two large dark circles under her eyes.
She had deliberately applied the suppressant and Pheromone Modulation Fluid her brother had given her earlier and changed the bandage on the wound on her left shoulder.
The class was boring.
Sikong Sui didn’t listen to a single word of what was being taught.
Her gaze swept around the classroom.
Sikong Nian sat by the window on the far left, head bowed as he wrote, his profile strikingly handsome.
But Sikong Sui glanced away almost immediately, not daring to look any longer.
Pei Sichen sat in the last row, a book spread open in front of him.
But his gaze wasn’t on the book; it was fixed on some unknown point outside the window.
His expression was still that poker face, giving away nothing.
Gu Shiyan sat beside her.
This was what made her most uncomfortable.
Gu Shiyan was seated to her right, so close she could smell the scent of white tea and sandalwood on him.
The bell for the end of class rang.
As Sikong Sui was packing her things, her pen not yet placed in her pencil case, she caught sight of Gu Shiyan standing up out of the corner of her eye.
He moved quickly, and within three seconds, he was already out the classroom door.
The hem of his school uniform flashed past the doorframe and then disappeared.
Sikong Sui’s hand froze mid-air.
Something wasn’t right.
“System,” Sikong Sui called softly in her mind, “where is Gu Shiyan?”
The system fell silent for a moment, as if locating him.
[Imperial Kindergarten.]
Sikong Sui was taken aback. “What?”
[Gu Shiyan has a younger brother in kindergarten. He is currently at the kindergarten.]
The pen in Sikong Sui’s hand fell onto the desk with a soft clatter.
Gu Shiyan has a younger brother?
Was this mentioned in the original book?
She quickly searched her memory. The original book had provided pitifully little background on Gu Shiyan.
All she knew was that he was Pei Sichen’s cousin, a top-tier schemer, an advisor to the Crown Prince, and it had never mentioned he had a younger brother.
Sikong Sui picked up the pen, stuffed it into her pencil case, zipped up her backpack, stood up, pushed back the chair, and walked out of the classroom.
Her footsteps quickened, shifting from a walk to a run, then from a run to a light jog.
She passed through the teaching building, crossed the garden, went through the playground, and walked down a small path lined with sycamore trees until she arrived at the gate of the kindergarten affiliated with the academy.
The kindergarten was a colorful building, its exterior walls painted in blocks of red, yellow, blue, and green.
The windows were decorated with stickers of various cartoon animals, and the yard was equipped with slides, swings, a sandpit, and a small climbing frame.
It was currently free playtime before the afternoon nap, and the yard was filled with children running around everywhere. The laughter and squeals blended together, creating a rather heartwarming scene.
Standing outside the iron fence gate, Sikong Sui spotted Gu Shiyan at a glance.
He was squatting beside the sandpit, his school jacket draped over a nearby bench. He wore only a white shirt, its sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
His shirt was covered in mud—not just a little, but large, smeared patches, as if someone had deliberately smeared it on.
There was mud on his left shoulder, his right arm, and the hem of his shirt.
Even his cheek bore a small streak of mud.
His hair was no longer its usual meticulously styled perfection. A few stray strands hung over his forehead, speckled with fine grains of sand.
He was playing in the mud with a little boy who looked about three or four years old.
The little boy bore a striking resemblance to Gu Shiyan—the same light chestnut hair, the same light amber eyes, the same delicate features.
Only his face was round and chubby, like a freshly steamed bun.
Squatting in the sandpit, the little boy was vigorously mixing a pile of wet mud with both hands. Mud splattered everywhere—on his own face, clothes, and shoes, and also onto Gu Shiyan.
Gu Shiyan didn’t dodge.
He simply squatted there quietly, watching the little boy play in the mud, a smile on his lips that Sikong Sui had never seen before.
It wasn’t the gentle, perfectly measured fake smile.
It was a genuine smile, one that tugged at the heartstrings.
Standing at the gate, Sikong Sui watched this scene, and a vague, indescribable emotion suddenly welled up inside her.
She had never seen Gu Shiyan like this before.
In her eyes, Gu Shiyan had always been that smiling tiger.
That green tea who hid knives in every word.
That Affection Quest player who kept her on constant guard.
But the Gu Shiyan squatting by the sandpit now, covered in mud and playing with his little brother, was simply an older brother playing with his younger brother.
Actually, it was quite endearing.
Sikong Sui took a deep breath and pushed open the iron fence gate of the kindergarten.
The gate creaked, and Gu Shiyan looked up.
His gaze changed the moment he saw her.
It shifted from that unguarded tenderness to his usual gentle, jade-like smile.
The transition was almost too quick to notice, but Sikong Sui saw it because she had been watching his eyes the whole time.
“Little Suisui?” Gu Shiyan stood up, brushing the mud off his knees.
But it wouldn’t come off cleanly—the mud had already dried, leaving grayish-white stains on his dark pants. “What brings you here?”
Sikong Sui walked over, carrying two large bags in her hands.
One bag was filled with toys—a plush bear, building blocks, puzzles, toy cars—things she had rushed into a toy store to buy on her way here.
Another bag was filled with snacks—cookies, candies, jellies, yogurt—though she wasn’t sure if they suited a child’s taste.
She placed both bags by the edge of the sandpit, crouched down, and looked at the little boy at eye level.
The boy lifted his head to look at her. His light amber eyes were round and wide, and his mud-smeared face blinked with big, curious eyes, as if asking, “Who are you?”
“Hello there!” Sikong Sui’s voice was soft and gentle. “What’s your name?”
The boy stared at her for two seconds, then turned to look at Gu Shiyan, as if seeking his approval.
Gu Shiyan gave a slight nod, and only then did the boy turn back, speaking in a sweet, childish voice, “Gu Shian.”
Gu Shian.
Gu Shiyan.
An and Yan.
One meant peace, the other meant feast.
Sikong Sui silently repeated the two names in her mind and suddenly felt a pang in her nose.
She didn’t know where that pang came from.
Perhaps it was because she suddenly realized that Gu Shiyan wasn’t an emotionless green tea—he, too, had someone he wanted to protect.
“Hello, Shian.”
“I brought you some toys and snacks. Do you want to see if you like them?”
She opened the toy bag and took out a plush bear—brown, fluffy, with big, round eyes.
Gu Shian’s eyes instantly lit up, like two stars being ignited.
He stretched out his mud-covered little hands, carefully took the plush bear, hugged it to his chest, then looked up with a smile missing a front tooth.
“Thank you, sister!”
“I like it!”
“The bear is so cute!”
In that moment, Sikong Sui’s heart melted.
She turned to look at Gu Shiyan, who was watching her. His expression was somewhat complicated.
It carried a hint of awkwardness and uncertainty.
“Brother Shiyan.”
Sikong Sui stood up, brushed the dust off her knees, and said with a smile, “Your little brother is so adorable.”
Gu Shiyan looked at her, remained silent for two seconds, then slowly curved the corners of his mouth into a smile. “How did you know I was here?”
“I followed you,” Sikong Sui blinked, telling a little white lie.
Gu Shiyan didn’t press further.
He lowered his head, watching Gu Shian happily hugging the plush bear, then glanced at the two large bags of toys and snacks.
He stayed silent for a while before looking up at Sikong Sui. “Thank you.”
Sikong Sui looked at him, and a thought suddenly surfaced in her mind: Perhaps Gu Shiyan wasn’t as complicated as she had imagined.
He was also a person—an ordinary person with a side unknown to others.