Chapter 19

“It’s really fine, Senior Sister. It’s been ages.” Yue Bai spoke with calm frankness. The dorm lights were off, but she could still sense a flicker of pity in Sang Wan’s eyes—a kind of pity she didn’t want or need. “Senior Sister, my childhood was truly dull. There’s not much worth reminiscing about.”

Her arms tensed straight.

“Mm…” Yue Bai’s chest rose and fell with her breathing as she settled back into a flat position on her bed. She turned her head to meet Sang Wan’s gaze. “My future’s going to be full of moments worth remembering. Like right now—lying in bed, chatting away with Senior Sister. Someday down the line, when I think back on this, I might even get a little nostalgic.”

“Heh heh.” Yue Bai let out a silly chuckle.

Sang Wan couldn’t muster a smile. She tugged at the corners of her mouth in a forced attempt, the cover of night hiding her true feelings. Her fingertips curled tight as she listened without blinking to Yue Bai’s soft murmurs beside her. Only after a moment did she slowly speak. “That’s good.”

“Yeah, it is.” Yue Bai shifted her position, then seemed to remember something and grinned. “Senior Sister, you know what? When I snuck out, my roommates were dying of curiosity, but I didn’t tell them a thing. Heh heh.”

Here she was, talking about her own stuff, yet still trying to cheer up someone else. Sang Wan stared at Yue Bai in a daze. This girl was just so endearingly foolish.

“No problem. You can tell them if you want—just keep that painting under wraps for now,” Sang Wan said.

Perhaps because of the rocky start, their chat didn’t last much longer before it fizzled out.

The next morning, Sang Wan prepared breakfast before leaving the dorm. Before she went, she left a message for Yue Bai, who was still fast asleep.

“Little Sister, I’m heading home for a bit. I’ll be back tonight. Don’t forget to eat breakfast.” —Sang Wan.

She needed to pick up something from home. She’d had no intention of facing the two new additions who’d suddenly appeared there, but on second thought, it was her house, after all. Why should she let outsiders dictate her mood?

Half an hour later, Sang Wan sat in the back of the family car, lips pressed thin as she stared at the unresponsive screen. After some hesitation, she dialed Yue Bai’s number.

The distinctive ringtone chimed. About ten seconds passed before the call connected.

“Hello… who is it?” Yue Bai’s voice came through, groggy and muddled with sleep.

Sang Wan’s heart itched with fondness. She watched the scenery rushing past outside while her fingers rubbed against the leather seat. “Still in bed?”

“Senior Sister?” Yue Bai gradually woke up, recognizing the voice. She propped herself up; the bed beside her was empty.

“Up yet?” Sang Wan asked patiently once more, her tone good-natured.

“Senior Sister, it’s the weekend today,” Yue Bai replied, implying she wanted to sleep in a bit longer.

Sang Wan smiled faintly. Gazing at the familiar sights outside, she switched the phone to her other hand. “Eat breakfast first, then sleep. Skipping meals isn’t good for you.”

Yue Bai poked her head out and eyed the breakfast on the table, still warm. She replied sheepishly, “Senior Sister, I’ll get up and eat right now.”

In high spirits, Sang Wan hung up. Another half hour or so passed before the car slowed, eventually turning through a set of gates.

“Miss, the lady and young master are here too,” the butler murmured quietly as she stepped out.

Sang Wan glanced at the tightly shut door and gave a faint hum. Sang Lin was an adult now, so “young master” didn’t quite fit.

“Madam.” Sang Wan curved her lips in a mocking smile. She lightly adjusted the bracelet on her wrist and strode toward the house.

The door had barely opened when voices drifted out from inside.

“Xiao Ye, come to Mommy.”

Sang Wan kept her expression neutral and continued forward. The sound of the door alerted those inside.

The woman who had been seated primly on the sofa stood up awkwardly, a practiced smile on her face. The child playing on the floor also lost his smile, shrinking cautiously behind the woman.

“You must be Little Wan,” the woman said pleasantly. “I’ve heard Old Sang mention you often.”

Sang Wan’s brow twitched slightly. She swept her gaze openly over the woman and the child. In short order, she withdrew it without a word and headed straight up to the second floor.

“Mommy, who’s she?” the child’s young voice piped up.

The woman pulled her eyes from Sang Wan’s retreating back and gave an embarrassed laugh, hugging the child close. “She’s your big sister.”

The child blinked in confusion. “Like Brother Lin?”

“Yes, exactly,” the woman said, crouching down to hold him.

“But Brother Lin doesn’t like me. Will Sister not like me either?” Despite his age, the boy could already read faces.

The woman’s expression stiffened. She smiled and soothed him. “Of course not. Xiao Ye’s so cute—no one could dislike you.”

Upstairs, Sang Wan made a beeline for the study. She knocked twice, waiting for the response from inside before turning the handle and entering.

“Little Wan.” The middle-aged man’s voice carried a smile as he crossed the room in a few strides. He looked her over carefully, then clapped a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve grown up. Even prettier than when you were little.”

Sang Wan smiled politely. Praise from her biological father stirred no real emotion in her.

“Dad heard you were coming back, so he had the kitchen make all your favorites,” Sang Dad said. “Aunt Li’s tidied your room too.”

“No need, Dad. I’m heading back to the dorm tonight,” Sang Wan replied, rubbing her temple.

“You’re here so rarely—why not stay the night?” Sang Dad asked, surprised. “Busy with school?”

“Not busy.” Sang Wan’s tone was flat. “Just want to go back.” Thinking of Yue Bai waiting in the dorm, a genuine smile tugged at her lips without her realizing.

Leaving the study, Sang Wan returned to her room and opened WeChat. There was an unread message from Yue Bai.

“Senior Sister, I finished eating. About to go back to sleep.” —Yue Bai.

Followed by a cute emoticon.

“Mm, sleep well. Don’t forget lunch.” —Sang Wan.

After a moment’s thought, her fingers flew across the screen.

“I’ll be back tonight.” —Sang Wan.

She’d said it before, but she wanted to emphasize it again.

No reply came; Yue Bai must have dozed off.

The next message from Yue Bai arrived just past eleven.

“Got it, Senior Sister. Getting up for lunch now.” —Yue Bai.

Sang Wan checked the time and sighed helplessly. “You slept till now?”

“Yep yep.” Yue Bai: “Weekend treat, heh heh.”

Sang Wan stared at those last two words, her mind conjuring a vivid image of a tiny Yue Bai grinning foolishly at her. She tapped the edge of her phone indulgently.

“Mm, go eat.” —Sang Wan.

Sang Wan set her phone aside. Lunchtime had arrived at home too. She descended the stairs casually and nearly bumped into the young man just reaching the landing.

“Sis, when did you get back?” Sang Lin rubbed his eyes in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sang Wan frowned lightly. “You slept till now too?”

“Yep.” Sang Lin nodded as if it were the most natural thing. “Gotta milk the weekend.”

“How can you be so lazy?” Sang Wan’s frown deepened.

“Tch, you come home just to nag me.” Sang Lin grumbled under his breath, then grew serious. “Sis, did you see the two Dad brought back? And that little tag-along kid. No idea what he’s thinking.”

“Oh, right.” Sang Lin glanced warily left and right, then leaned in to whisper in Sang Wan’s ear. “I had someone test it—the boy’s got no blood relation to Dad.”

Sang Wan’s expression eased a fraction.

At the dining table, Sang Dad and the woman were already seated, with the little boy beside the woman.

Sang Wan and Sang Lin took their seats one after the other.

The dishes were already on the table.

“Yo, since when’s the family eating so bland?” Sang Lin leaned back, eyeing the spread. Aside from a few of Sang Wan’s usual favorites, the rest was nothing but greens and clear soups.

The woman’s face flushed with embarrassment. Sang Dad patted the back of her hand reassuringly and chimed in. “Xiao Ye can’t handle anything too oily these days.”

Sang Lin sneered coldly, unconcerned. “So? What’s that got to do with me?”

“Little Lin.” Sang Dad’s tone sharpened. He turned to Sang Wan with warmth. “Little Wan, just eat what you like.”

Sang Wan let out a light laugh but didn’t pick up her chopsticks.

The atmosphere grew tense.

“If he can’t eat it, make him a separate plate and send him off to eat it,” Sang Lin snapped, his pent-up frustration boiling over in the silence. He tossed down his chopsticks irritably. “A whole table and barely anything edible. Ruins my appetite.”

“Sang Lin.” Sang Dad slammed the table. “You’re getting more insolent by the day.”

“So you’re rushing to get a stepmom for me and big sis?” Sang Lin scoffed, stirring his spoon disdainfully.

Sang Wan ate quietly, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

Suddenly, amid the argument, Xiao Ye burst into tears. He stumbled toward the woman. “Mommy!”

“What’s with the waterworks, you little bastard?” Sang Lin glared viciously at the child. “Take your mom and get out of my house.”

Sang Wan’s grip tightened on her chopsticks, her dark eyes darkening further. She whipped her head toward Sang Lin on reflex, then toward the crying boy.

Sang Lin’s words lit the fuse for everyone at the table. The woman cradled Xiao Ye, cooing to him, while Sang Dad’s face turned beet red with rage. Sang Lin jutted his chin stubbornly, still muttering.

“Little Lin.” Sang Wan heard her own voice cut through.

Sang Lin clamped his mouth shut at once, staring at her in shock.

Sang Wan didn’t even give him a proper glance, instead staring unblinkingly at Xiao Ye. In that instant, it was as if she could see Yue Bai’s childhood through him. Back then, when Yue Bai was bullied and called a “wild child,” hadn’t she cried just like Xiao Ye, gasping for breath?

Will she also hide in someone else’s arms like Xiao Ye?

Wouldn’t dare to refute it either, and could only process it alone.

Her heart began to throb with pain.

“I’m full.” Sang Wan pushed away the bowl and chopsticks. At the corner of the stairs on the second floor, she paused: “Sang Lin, come here.”