Because of this, his father had always adhered to his grandfather’s dying wish. Whenever there was an opportunity, he made sure to include the eldest branch, never quibbling over minor matters.  

Even when conflicts arose among the younger generation, his father would always urge him and his siblings to be more magnanimous—after all, family shouldn’t keep score over petty things.  

Most of these disputes were trivial and quickly forgotten.  

From childhood, the three siblings had been raised with strong moral principles—honest, kind-hearted, and free of cunning schemes. To put it bluntly, they were open-hearted, optimistic, and generous by nature.  

Small conflicts came and went, and none of them held grudges.  

But just because they didn’t hold grudges didn’t mean others felt the same.  

Perhaps their family’s gentle, accommodating nature and deep sense of loyalty had only emboldened the eldest branch, inflating their arrogance and ambition to the point where they no longer regarded the second branch with any respect.  

Or maybe they simply saw the second branch as easy to manipulate?  

So when it came to matters of profit, they cast aside all familial bonds, treating the second branch as mere stepping stones—sacrificing them to secure the eldest branch’s glory and reputation.  

These were their closest relatives, yet for selfish gain, they had no qualms about harming their own flesh and blood.  

In their past life, his family had never understood why the eldest branch repeatedly betrayed and trampled on them. Even as his parents passed away, they were still tormented by unanswered questions, their deaths filled with regret.  

But in truth, how many things in life truly had a clear “why”?  

Some actions had no deeper reason—just pure, selfish desire.  

His family valued kinship and held a strong sense of familial duty, but that didn’t mean others were willing to sacrifice their own interests for the sake of harmony.  

It was like giving your all to someone, offering everything you could—only for them not to feel gratitude, but instead resent you for not giving even more. They might even accuse you of being stingy or disloyal.  

Because the second branch cherished brotherhood and honored their promises, the eldest branch saw them as nothing more than a resource to exploit.  

And the spark that ignited their family’s tragic fate?  

The study-abroad quota from last year.  

In 1949, the new China was established. After years of war, the country desperately needed talent and resources to rebuild.  

So at the beginning of last year, the government held a nationwide selection exam for university students. Those who passed would earn the chance to study abroad.  

Qi Han, having just graduated, happened to specialize in architecture—a field the nation urgently needed. So he took the exam alongside his cousin, Qi Ming.  

But in the end, he failed.  

His cousin, however, secured the opportunity to study overseas. To celebrate, the eldest branch threw a lavish banquet at a high-end restaurant in the provincial capital.  

This honor was incredibly rare—only sixty students nationwide were chosen. Qi Ming’s success brought the eldest branch immense prestige and even tangible benefits.