He remembered the moment he first learned that Xu Huan was his biological sister.
At the time, his heart was full of both anticipation and guilt. He felt anticipation because he could finally make up for all the years she had missed; he felt guilt because she had drifted and suffered so much out in the world. He had sworn to take good care of her and let her feel the warmth of a home.
But things did not develop as he had imagined.
Shortly after Xu Huan returned, Xu Yan fell down the stairs. At the time, Xu Yan had cried and insisted that Xu Huan hadn't pushed her, but the security footage clearly captured Xu Huan’s hand in a pushing motion. Although Xu Jiahe was unwilling to believe that Xu Huan would do such a thing, the evidence was right in front of him, and he could not help but harbor a sliver of doubt.
Later, similar incidents happened one after another. Xu Yan’s paintings were ruined, her formal gowns were slashed, and even at the birthday banquet for both Xu Yan and Xu Huan, various "accidents" kept occurring. Every time, Xu Yan would tearfully say, "It’s not my sister’s fault," yet every time, all the evidence pointed to Xu Huan.
It was then that Xu Jiahe’s heart began to turn cold.
He tried to communicate with her time and again, attempting to make her understand that this family was forgiving and that as long as she was willing to change, everything could start anew. But Xu Huan remained unrepentant, eventually destroying a painting that had taken Xu Yan three months to finish.
The disappointment and anger in Xu Jiahe’s heart finally reached their peak. He realized he could not let Xu Huan continue like this. She needed to leave this environment, go somewhere completely new, and start over.
"I’ll send her abroad," he told himself. "Let her leave this place, leave Xu Yan, and maybe then she will truly understand her own problems."
Yet, when he saw the look of resentment and despair in Xu Huan’s eyes, he did not feel the relief he had expected. On the contrary, an inexplicable irritability and unease welled up in his heart.
Xu Jiahe took a deep breath, suppressing those complicated emotions, and said coldly, "It is precisely because I want to do right by the fact that I brought you back home that I must send you abroad."
He finished speaking and turned toward the study on the ground floor, his silhouette cold and resolute.
Xu Huan stood where she was, feeling a chill run through her entire body, as if all her strength had been drained away. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall. Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, yet it carried a broken fragility:
"If I were to say... that if I leave, I will never be able to come back, would you still insist on sending me abroad?"
Eldest Brother Xu’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt, his back stiffening slightly. He turned around, his brows furrowed, his eyes filled with impatience and aversion, his voice as cold as ice: "Xu Huan, you aren't a child anymore. Don’t use words like that to threaten me. Your body is your own; if you don't cherish it, there’s nothing I can do."
His tone was cold and harsh, as if he were deliberately masking the turmoil within. But only he knew that when he heard those words from Xu Huan, his heart had lurched, as if something had pierced him deeply. That sudden, sharp pain made it hard for him to breathe, but he quickly suppressed the discomfort, forcing himself to remain calm.
"Don’t play these suicide games," his voice grew even colder, as if he were building a defensive wall around himself. "Doing this will only make people look down on you even more."
Having said this, as if afraid he might waver, he turned around quickly and strode out of the living room. His footsteps echoed through the empty house, sounding grating and harsh.
"Suicide?" Xu Huan stood where she was and gave a mocking scoff, her voice filled with endless, bitter self-ridicule.
Tears finally spilled from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks and dripping silently onto the floor. Xu Huan raised a hand to wipe them away, her gaze growing more determined.
Xu Jiahe didn't understand her at all. In all those bitter, difficult days of the past, she had never once thought of ending her life; she had never once thought of running away from hardship. She had gritted her teeth and persevered, step by step, because she had always believed that she was not someone beyond redemption. She believed that one day, someone would love her just as much as she loved herself.
"I won't go abroad. No one is going to interfere with my life."
Xu Huan whispered to herself. The voice was barely a murmur, yet it carried an undeniable strength. She looked up toward the window. Sunlight spilled through the glass, landing on her face as if gilding her in a faint halo. She knew the road ahead might still be difficult, but she would never fall easily. Because she was Xu Huan—the Xu Huan who, even when knocked down by life time and again, would always climb back up and continue forward.
*
The night was heavy. In Gu Yan’s tea room, warm yellow light bathed the rustic rosewood table, and the aroma of tea swirled in the air, bringing a sense of quiet warmth.
Pei Cheng lounged back in his chair, his slender fingers idly toying with a celadon teacup. He traced the rim of the cup, his gaze indifferent and filled with nonchalance. His posture was relaxed, as if he weren't interested in anything, yet he carried an air of effortless lethargy that was impossible to ignore.
Gu Yan sat opposite him, his expression gentle and refined. "Do you really intend to stay here forever and not go back?"
Pei Cheng picked up his teacup, his expression flat, his voice low and languid. "It’s good here."
"No matter how good it is, it’s not a place for you to stay long-term." Gu Yan’s tone was calm, yet carried a hint of advice.
Pei Cheng raised an eyebrow, a faint, imperceptible smile curling his lips. "And why isn’t it a place for me to stay long-term?"
Gu Yan sighed, a touch of helplessness in his tone. "You really need to have a proper talk with your father. Don’t be so temperamental."
Pei Cheng lowered his eyes to watch the tea leaves swirling in the cup, a cold smile tugging at his lips. His voice was low and biting. "A proper talk? When has he ever given me a chance for a proper talk? From childhood to now, all he’s ever cared about is his business and his reputation. When has he ever truly cared about what I think?"
Gu Yan raised a hand to rub his brow, his tone heavy with fatigue. "But you are father and son, after all. You can't go on like this forever. Your father is getting older, and the Pei Family business will eventually need you to manage it."
Pei Cheng did not respond. He simply raised the cup and took a slow sip. The bitterness of the tea spread across his tongue, but it was nothing compared to the coldness in his heart.
He set the cup down and was about to speak when his phone suddenly vibrated. He glanced down at the screen; it was a message from Xu Huan: "I’ve run into some trouble. Can you help me?"
Pei Cheng’s brows lifted slightly, a flicker of surprise flashing in his eyes. He set his cup aside, picked up his phone, and tapped on the screen with his long, articulated fingers: "What kind of help? Tell me."
"In three days, can you come to West City Airport to meet me?"
Meet her?
Though puzzled, Pei Cheng didn't ask any further questions. He replied: "I can."
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it." A slight upward curve graced Pei Cheng’s lips, and a flash of teasing mischief crossed his eyes. "After all, I am technically your 'kept' boyfriend now."