“Let’s leave here.”
The next morning, Hiiragi Yu was awakened by the roar of a motor downstairs.
He rose quietly, carefully pulling back a corner of the curtain. Down in the yard, Pan Wang was strutting toward the door, waving his hands about in an impatient, erratic gesture.
Dropping the curtain, Yu held his breath and dressed in haste, ignoring the dirt clinging to his clothes. He hurriedly stuffed the coat and umbrella Mr. Cheng had lent him beneath his blanket, patting the mound flat to make it look innocent. Only then did he exhale, silently praying that Pan Wang would head straight to his own room.
His hopes were instantly dashed.
The door was kicked open with a deafening crash. Yu’s heart skipped a beat, a dull, aching panic flaring in his chest. Did the noise wake my sister? Did it terrify her?
Before the thought could fully form, Pan Wang, reeking of stale alcohol, staggered into the room. Yu instinctively backed away, but his spine hit the cold plaster of the wall. He had nowhere left to run.
His eyelashes fluttered in fear. Pan Wang sneered, reaching out to seize Yu by the neck, clearly eager to demand how he had dared to run away in front of Young Master Zhou.
Suddenly, Pan Wang’s eyes locked onto something else.
Yu stiffened, his gaze tracking his stepbrother’s sightline. He froze.
A sliver of black fabric was peeking out from beneath the edge of the mattress.
Pan Wang raised a brow, a malicious grin spreading across his face. He leaned in close, his voice thick with mockery. “Really went through with it, huh? Got addicted and brought a man’s things home?”
The words were vile, but Yu forced himself to stare straight ahead without reacting. Years of bitter experience had taught him that anger, sadness, and resistance were nothing more than fuel for Pan Wang, delights that only invited further cruelty.
When Pan Wang strode toward the bed to yank back the covers, however, Yu lost his composure. He lunged forward, grabbing Pan Wang’s wrist in a frantic attempt to stop him.
Pan Wang paused, turning his head. “Did I hit a nerve?”
He laughed at Yu’s desperate panic, shoving him hard to the floor without a second thought, and pulled back the blanket.
When he saw what was hidden beneath, a look of contemptuous disappointment crossed his face. “That’s it?”
He scooped up the black umbrella first, tossing it onto the floor and stomping on it twice. Then he picked up the heavy trench coat, quickly realizing it was far too large to belong to Yu.
Turning the garment over, he searched for a designer logo or familiar tailors’ mark. Finding none, he shook his head and clicked his tongue in disdain. “Selling yourself cheap, aren’t you? You think you can posture in front of me with some nobody’s discarded coat?”
Snorting, he grabbed the fabric to tear it apart, yet even with an Alpha’s raw strength, the heavy weave held fast.
Irritation flashed in Pan Wang’s eyes. Carrying the coat, he marched over to the small desk and yanked open a drawer to find a pair of scissors. Before he could grab them, a hand gripped his forearm tight.
He turned to find that Yu had scrambled to his feet. The boy was trembling violently, but his pale face bore an uncharacteristic, unyielding stubbornness.
Give it back, Yu pleaded silently, his lips moving without sound, his grip refusal incarnate.
Pan Wang didn’t bother trying to read his lips, he merely raised an eyebrow, surprised. He knew better than anyone how frail his younger brother was, congenital heart disease was no trivial matter. Before Yu’s frail mother had passed away, Pan Wang had nearly pushed the boy to his grave several times. He remembered those incidents clearly, after all, his father had actually scolded him over them.
After the mother died, Yu had become exceedingly cautious, tiptoeing around him. The only time Yu ever showed a flash of spirit was when his little sister was involved.
So who does this coat belong to?
Curiosity flickered in Pan Wang’s mind, but a darker urge won out: he wanted to watch Yu break as he destroyed it.
He kicked Yu violently to the floor, snatched the scissors, and sheared the trench coat in two with two harsh, metallic snips.
Before he could savor Yu’s despair, a sharp, searing pain shot through his arm. Pan Wang yelled out, looking down to see Yu’s little sister, Hiiragi Satoru, biting into his flesh with feral intensity.
“Don’t you dare bully my brother!” she screamed, her eyes blazing.
“You little bastard!” Furious, Pan Wang dropped the scissors and grabbed her by the collar, hoisting her into the air. “I’m your brother, too!”
The moment he lifted the child, a bitter chill touched the skin of his neck.
Pan Wang froze, turning his head slowly.
It was Hiiragi Yu.
The young man’s lips were deathly pale, his hands shaking, but the sharp tips of the scissors were pressed firmly against Pan Wang’s throat.
Let her go, Yu signaled silently, his mouth moving deliberate, unhurried strokes. The dangerous gleam of the steel made his command unmistakably clear.
Pan Wang’s grip loosened in fear, and Satoru dropped nimbly to the floor, stomping hard on his foot before springing back.
Wincing from the pain, Pan Wang dared not make a scene. He forced a twisted, defensive grin. “Hey… I’m the only Alpha in this house. You wouldn’t actually dare…”
Yu took a ragged breath, his strained arms trembling from exertion. Raising his free hand, he pointed a single finger directly at the door.
Get out.
Keeping the blades leveled at Pan Wang’s throat, Yu forced his stepbrother backward step by step until he was out of the room. He slammed the door and threw the lock.
The moment the deadbolt clicked, the strength drained from Yu’s body. He collapsed to his knees, the scissors clattering loudly against the floorboards.
His vision blurred. As he blinked, heavy tears spilled down his pale cheeks.
Hurried footsteps sounded behind him. Wiping his face hastily, Yu turned around to embrace the little girl rushing into his arms.
Were you scared? I’m sorry… he signed quickly.
“I’m not scared of him!” Satoru grumbled, pulling away to throw two determined punches into the air to prove her resolve. “I practice every day at school! I’m going to master my ultimate move and beat up the big bad guy!”
She nuzzled her face against Yu’s neck. “When I grow up, I’ll beat him so badly he’ll never dare bully us again!”
A faint, sad smile touched Yu’s lips. Holding his sister’s warm, fragile body, the chaotic pounding of his heart began to settle. He remained quiet for a long time, and Satoru stayed tucked safely against his chest.
Feeling her soft warmth, a realization surged within Yu like a rising tide. They had to run away. It didn’t matter where, they just had to leave.
He took his sister’s small hand and traced out the words stroke by stroke onto her palm. Let’s leave here.
Satoru looked up at her brother, her small face scrunched in thought. “I’ll miss my teachers and my friends…”
Then she pressed her soft cheek against his again, whispering softly, “But wherever you go, I’ll go too. I love you the most, Brother.”
Yu couldn’t speak. He simply held her tighter.
The siblings stayed hidden in the room until the house fell completely silent. Downstairs, Pan Wang’s bedroom door was firmly shut, he had likely passed out drunk again. Yu ignored it entirely.
It was Tuesday. His first priority was taking Satoru to school.
Their father had neglected her entirely, failing to notice when she was singled out by her teacher in first grade or when a classmate pushed her down the stairs, injuring her leg. The moment Yu discovered the truth, he had immediately transferred her from the prestigious private academy to a quiet public elementary school near his university campus.
The facilities were modest, but Yu was content. According to Satoru, the teachers treated every child fairly, and her classmates were kind and innocent. It was an environment where she could feel safe, where she wouldn’t have to endure the silent torture Yu had survived.
After saying goodbye to Satoru at the school gate, Yu caught the bus to A University.
His first lecture was at nine. He rushed back to his dorm to grab his textbooks, arriving at the lecture hall just as it was filling up. Looking around, he caught his roommates waving to him from a back corner, holding an empty seat.
Relieved, Yu slipped into the chair. His roommate, Zheng Yue, immediately leaned over. “Where were you yesterday? The old professor called your name during attendance!”
Yu offered an awkward, apologetic smile and scribbled a quick note in his notebook:
【Something came up at home.】
He couldn’t tell them the truth. He had been dragged away by Pan Wang the previous Friday, only waking up from his ordeal on Monday afternoon. They had only been rooming together for a month, some truths were too heavy to share.
Zheng Yue sighed sympathetically, patting Yu’s shoulder. “You should’ve seen his face! I covered for you and said you were sick, which calmed him down a bit.”
Yu wrote back, his eyes full of genuine gratitude:
【Thank you. I’ll explain it to him personally after class next week.】
“Good,” Zheng Yue said. “Oh, by the way, he assigned homework yesterday. I posted it in the group chat, did you see it?”
Yu paused, then shook his head apologetically.
【Not yet.】
Yesterday had been a blur of chaos. Since starting college, he had been added to dozens of course chats, and his notifications were a cluttered mess he hadn’t possessed the strength to sort through.
“No worries,” Zheng Yue said, swatting away their other roommate, Shao Wenrui, who was nudging his elbow frantically. “What are you grabbing me for?”
Zheng Yue turned back to Yu. “I’ll show you the prompt when we get back to…”
A sharp cough resonated from the podium. The professor stared at Zheng Yue over his spectacles. “That student in the back. Since you have so much to say, would you like to come down and teach the rest of the lesson?”
Zheng Yue stiffened, finally realizing why Shao Wenrui had been nudging him. He quickly threw his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, Professor! I was wrong, I’m listening now!”
A wave of quiet laughter rippled through the classroom, breaking the dry atmosphere. Even the stern professor chuckled softly before gesturing for him to sit down.
Yu offered Zheng Yue a silent gesture of gratitude, pressing his palms together in apology. Zheng Yue merely grinned back good naturedly.
As the professor’s slow, rhythmic lecture resumed, the tension that had gripped Yu all morning began to ease. The gentle hum of academia felt safe and familiar.
Reaching into his bag for a notebook, his fingers brushed against a torn, heavy piece of fabric.
The ruined trench coat.
Yu’s heart sank all over again.
For the rest of the day, Yu was entirely unfocused.
When afternoon classes ended, he parted ways with his roommates. They assumed he was off to pick up his sister, but today Satoru had an after school activity that ran thirty minutes late.
Carrying his heavy backpack, Yu wandered down the back streets near the university until he found a small tailor shop tucked away in a quiet alley.
He pulled out the coat, cleanly sheared into two pieces, and looked at the tailor with pleading eyes. The old tailor examined the fabric, ran his fingers along the raw edge, and shook his head with a sigh. “I’m sorry, son. The cut is too deep, and the fabric is too structured. I can’t fix this.”
Disappointment weighing heavily on his chest, Yu packed the coat away. He visited two more shops nearby, receiving the exact same answer at each one.
By the time he reached the gates of Satoru’s elementary school, his feet felt like lead.
Since the students hadn’t been dismissed yet, Yu sat on a stone bench by the gate, clutching his backpack tightly against his chest and staring at the pavement.
He couldn’t just repair the coat poorly and lie to Mr. Cheng. His mother had taught him that when you make a mistake, you must take full responsibility, you offer a sincere apology first, present a solution, and then accept whatever consequences the other person deems fit.
To make things right, he needed to restore the garment, apologize in person, and compensate Mr. Cheng for the damage.
Except the very first step was proving impossible.
A heavy sadness settled over him. He pulled out his phone, opening the calculator app to figure out how long it would take to save enough money for him and Satoru to leave the city, factoring in the debt he now owed Mr. Cheng.
How much was a coat like that worth? Five thousand yuan…?
Yu closed his eyes, recalling the understated elegance of Mr. Cheng’s clothes. The fabric was exquisitely fine, the cut impeccable. It certainly wasn’t off the rack. Four figures likely wouldn’t even cover a fraction of it.
He began subtracting numbers furiously. Satoru’s tuition, her living expenses, rent for a tiny room somewhere far away, utilities… To make it work, he would have to cut his own daily food budget down to the bare minimum.
Looking at the final number on the screen, Hiiragi Yu leaned his head back against the wall, utterly defeated.