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On a night with heavy frost and a thin moon, light rain suddenly began to fall. Outside the car window, water droplets glittered like silver, and the blue sign flashed by.
The classic phrase, “I miss you so much in the capital,” almost made Ming Zhao laugh, but as soon as she remembered how awkward she had been climbing off Zhou Tingyun’s lap earlier, she quickly suppressed a smile.
A quiet silence continued until the car stopped at the Ming family’s residence.
The familiar, spacious villa, with its warm lights always on, served more for decoration than anything else.
How could he not have the qualification?
For twenty-one years of her life, Zhou Tingyun alone had occupied eighteen of them.
Before turning eighteen, Ming Zhao always believed that Zhou Tingyun took her father’s surname, while she took her mother’s, never considering any other possibility.
Ming Zhao amused herself with the thought that a familial bond without blood ties was like a pile of loose sand—scattered with just a few steps.
Her gloomy mood instantly vanished when she saw the woman sitting in the living room. She was filled with pure delight in an instant.
“Mommy!”
“Mom.”
Ming Zhao leapt joyfully into the woman’s arms.
Zhou Tingyun followed behind, bending down to arrange her high heels.
Ming Zhao’s mother, Ming Zheng , is the founder of Mingyue Group, with industries spanning real estate, finance, culture, and more.
She had long been dedicated to her career and was rarely home, showing little concern for her daughter. Out of guilt, she inevitably indulged her a bit, always willing to meet her material needs.
Ming Zheng smiled as she caught her, gently ruffling her hair. “Did you have fun abroad? Do you have enough money?”
Ming Zhao answered obediently, staying in her mother’s embrace and acting spoiled for a while before remembering her father. She looked around and asked, “Where’s Dad? Didn’t he come back with you?”
“Oh, him? He’s very busy, still in a meeting.”
The girl responded with a soft “Oh,” then added, “So you’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”
Ming Zheng lightly coughed.
“Sweetheart, you really like that game company, don’t you? I’ve already bought it. What do you think about having your brother take you to visit it another day?”
Guessing it would be something like this, Ming Zhao wasn’t too disappointed, as she had come to accept it. She smiled, her eyes curving. “Got it, thanks, Mom.”
The autumn air was dry, and the housekeeper brought over a lung-nourishing soup.
Ming Zhao sipped it slowly, listening as her mother, Ming Zheng, asked about Zhou Tingyun’s work.
After finishing the soup, she opened her suitcase to took out the gifts.
For Aunt Lin, Uncle Wang, for her parents…
Ming Zheng was delighted to receive her daughter’s gifts, and with a wave of her hand, she immediately made a transfer.
Suddenly noticing something, Ming Zheng tapped Ming Zhao’s forehead. “Zhao Zhao, what about your brother’s gift?”
“Of course, I got one.” Ming Zhao smiled brightly as she took out a handbag. “But I was worried that my brother might not want the gift I picked out anymore.”
“You little troublemaker, stop talking nonsense.” Ming Zheng lightly smacked her hand in reproach.
Opening the paper bag, inside was a cup that was very roughly made, yet the color was a soft, delicate pink.
She blinked her eyes. “I made this with my own hands—so you have to keep it on your desk and drink hot water from it, okay?”
Her voice carried a sweet, playful tone, and her bright eyes sparkled with mischief.
Ming Zheng stared at it for a long time, at a loss whether to laugh or cry.
“Sweetheart, your brother is the chairman of Huayu, does he really need this kind of gift? You might as well keep it at home for yourself,” Ming Zheng said with a raised brow.
Her expression was one of slight annoyance.
“It’s okay, Mom.” Zhou Tingyun took the cup from her, speaking gently. “The colors in my office are too dull, a little splash of color wouldn’t hurt.”
“…Fine, fine, fine.” Ming Zheng waved her hand dismissively, clearly uninterested.
“You just spoil her,” she added.
Although her words seemed critical, there was a faint smile in her eyes.
After receiving a phone call, Ming Zheng prepared to head back to the company.
“Mom is leaving now,” she instructed. “You need to listen to your brother while I’m gone, alright?”
“Got it, Mommy,” Ming Zhao replied, dragging out her words in annoyance. “When do I not listen?”
At this, Zhou Tingyun gave her a faint, unreadable glance.
And in return, Ming Zhao made a show of glaring at him, as if daring him to say something.
That evening…
Ming Zhao was wrapped in the soft, fragrant blankets, the familiar surroundings and the gentle patter of rain outside creating the perfect atmosphere for sleep.
Her mother sent a message: [By the way, sweetheart, I almost forgot. Next week is Grandpa Zhou’s birthday. Remember to go with your brother, okay?]
Although Ming Zhao wasn’t thrilled about it, she obediently agreed, though her resentment toward Zhou Tingyun grew a little more in her heart.
Apart from occasional encounters at banquets, she and the Zhou family rarely interacted, and now her social obligations had increased once again.
After pondering for a while about what gift to give, she still had no idea. Reaching for the water cup on her nightstand, she realized it was empty.
Just then, two knocks echoed, and the door was knocked at the same time.
Ming Zhao pulled back the covers, slipped on her slippers, and walked to the door to open it.
“Aunt Lin?”
Seeing the empty cup in the girl’s hand, Aunt Lin couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration for Zhou Tingyun’s attentiveness as an older brother.
With their parents often away, this large mansion was mostly just them two siblings, aside from the several housekeepers. While Aunt Lin took care of the house, she could never match Zhou Tingyun’s level of meticulousness.
Having a younger sister had forced the young man to mature quickly. In one fell swoop, he had taken on the roles of a brother, father, and even mother, and somehow managed to do it all well, raising her to be both beautiful and elegant.
Aunt Lin smiled as she spoke, “I know you don’t like going downstairs, so Young Master specifically asked me to come around this time to refill your water.”
Ming Zhao silently watched the small whirlpool form as the water flowed.
She used to have her hot milk supervised every night, and now look at this.
The cup felt warm against her hand. She asked, “What’s the busy man up to?”
Aunt Lin’s eyes visibly brightened, and she hurriedly said, “He’s still working in the study. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep for several days now.”
She had vaguely noticed the growing tension and distance between the two and had been worried. However, before she could find a way to address it, Miss Ming went abroad.
Aunt Lin sighed inwardly.
Ming Zhao froze for a moment. “Has he been staying here all this time?”
No way. Did the Zhou family not even have a bedroom for him? Were they really that stingy?