Luckily for her, Zhao Wenyan was still studying and wouldn’t take the imperial examination until next year. Song Luan had no idea how or when he’d become infatuated with the original owner. For now, the best course of action was to avoid him as much as possible and keep him from falling for her. That would ultimately be a kindness to him.

Zhao Nanyu had been standing at the doorway for a while. He moved so silently that his presence was almost ghostlike. With his tall frame and refined bearing, he stood there quietly, the golden evening sunlight spilling over his shoulders as his steady eyes rested on her without a sound.

Lost deep in thought, Song Luan didn’t notice his arrival. She sat in front of the dressing table, chin in her hands, her rosy lips pouting in mild frustration. Talking to herself as if no one were there, she fussed with her hair in agitation, even going so far as to lightly bump her head against the table. Watching her antics, Zhao Nanyu felt a flicker of unexpected amusement. Was it…a hint of charm in her behavior?

Finally, he broke the silence and said. “Are you ready? It’s time to go.”

The sudden voice startled Song Luan, jerking her back to reality. She immediately looked up, wide-eyed, and stared at him in shock. She hadn’t even realized he’d been standing there.

The man stood by the window, half bathed in sunlight. Dressed in simple blue robes, he exuded an air of quiet elegance and humility. Yet, the glow of sunlight on him made him seem almost otherworldly, like a noble celestial being forced into the mortal realm, untouchable yet painfully human.

Song Luan stammered. “Y-Yes, I’m ready, I’m ready.”

Zhao Nanyu gave a small nod. “If that’s the case, let’s go together.”

In the past, the original Song Luan never attended family banquets with Zhao Nanyu. She had loathed him so much that she insisted they arrive separately, one following the other.

Tonight, however, Song Luan was dressed to impress. She adored vibrant colors and chose an outfit in muted lotus pink—a cross-collared, cinched-waist ruqun. Paired with crimson embroidered shoes, she was a vision of elegance. Her makeup was meticulously done to highlight her delicate features: a faint flower mark adorned her forehead, her bright eyes sparkled with life, and her smile was warm and sincere.

The two walked side by side, though Song Luan was careful to keep a bit of distance between them, fearing that he might find her presence even more irksome. The journey to the main house was mostly silent.

Their first stop was to pick up Zhi’er. Zhao Nanyu, however, did not ask her to hold the child’s hand. Instead, Zhi’er walked obediently at his father’s side. And so, the three of them—an awkward little family unit—headed toward the main house together.

They arrived neither early nor late but most of the members from the first and second branches of the family had already gathered.

The elderly matriarch, upon seeing them, had her attendant take Zhi’er to her chambers. It seemed she hadn’t seen her great-grandson in a long time and wanted to spend some time talking with him.

Zhao Nanyu didn’t object but simply instructed Zhi’er to behave.

Hearing that, Song Luan couldn’t help but twitch her lips. As far as she was concerned, Zhi’er was already the most well-behaved child she’d ever encountered.

The decor in the main house was a clear upgrade from their modest courtyard. The central yard featured a small pond, and the stone pillars were inlaid with lion head carvings, giving the place a touch of grandeur.

Several younger members of the Zhao family stood by the pond, their ages close enough to make them peers. They exuded youthful confidence, chatting and laughing together.

It was unclear who noticed Zhao Nanyu first, but someone raised a folding fan and called out. The casual tone betrayed a lack of respect. “Second Brother, why are you only arriving now?”

Song Luan followed the voice and glanced over. The young man who’d spoken had a face that could barely be considered handsome. His features carried an edge of sharpness, but when he smiled, a certain pettiness was evident.

The speaker was Zhao Bo, the youngest son of Uncle Zhao. With rather mediocre talents, he had failed the imperial examination the year before last, and since childhood, he had disliked his second brother who was exceptionally gifted and knowledgeable. As the legitimate son of the main branch, Zhao Bo held a noble status and deeply believed that Zhao Nanyu whose birth mother was a prostitute was unworthy of being his second brother. He had often gossiped about him behind his back and never missed an opportunity to mock Zhao Nanyu with sarcastic remarks to his face.

“The banquet hasn’t started yet.” Zhao Nanyu replied evenly.

The underlying meaning was clear: he wasn’t late.

Zhao Bo’s smile faltered, his lips turning downward in a show of dissatisfaction. “Well, that’s true. If Second Brother were to arrive early, Grandmother might scold you again.”

Everyone in the Zhao family knew that the matriarch did not like Zhao Nanyu. Whenever they crossed paths, her sharp words always found him, with no hint of affection.

Standing beside him like a wooden statue, Song Luan pretended not to hear anything, maintaining an air of detachment. She kept her gaze lowered, staring intently at the tips of her shoes as if the exchange had nothing to do with her.

But her thoughts had already drifted far from the present.

She was starving. Truly starving, to the point she felt she might keel over any moment.

Zhao Nanyu pressed his thin lips into a tight line, choosing to remain silent.

Zhao Bo, seeing no reaction to fuel his mockery, let out a low huff of frustration. He shot Zhao Nanyu a disdainful glance before turning to head inside the house.

Unbeknownst to her, someone else had appeared in front of Song Luan. The shadow of a lean figure fell across her, standing a deliberate five steps away. At first, the boy frowned at her, his gaze filled with disdain. Then he looked up at Zhao Nanyu, his tone sharp and impatient. “Second Brother, why did you come here with her?!”

Almost immediately, Song Luan sensed a shift beside her. Zhao Nanyu’s mood plummeted like a storm cloud descending, cold and threatening.

Before she could react, a strong hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her behind him. Zhao Nanyu’s grip was firm—painfully so. His voice dropped to a frigid tone as he demanded. “Where is Father?”

Song Luan blinked in astonishment, dazed as she looked at the teenager glaring at her. Wait a moment—was this the future Zhao Wenyan? The one who was destined to live and die for the original owner of this body?! Now he looked at her with nothing but contempt. What had gone wrong?!

“Ow…” she whimpered softly, wincing as Zhao Nanyu’s grip dug into her skin. He was using far more force than necessary, and it stung.

Her wide, watery eyes turned to Zhao Nanyu, brimming with helplessness. She wanted to plead, to ask him to loosen his grip, but no words came out. She didn’t even know what she had done to make him this angry.

What an injustice!

The male lead was furious—terrifyingly so, out of nowhere.

Her heart thudded in her chest. She was a little scared.

=^_^=

Author has something to say: Zhao Nanyu: “Are you planning to make me a cuckold?”

Song Luan: “I’m not—I didn’t—I would never!”