A man standing at 1.87 meters tall, with a solid build, dark skin, a buzz cut, and a naturally fierce expression—anyone would probably assume he had some connection to the underworld.

Lu Xiangming was exactly that kind of person, so when he asked his question, Ji Chenai instinctively blurted out, “The mafia.”

However, Lu Xiangming was clearly used to this kind of misunderstanding. He calmly picked up his teacup, took a sip, and said, “My dad is a police officer. So am I.”

Ji Chenai hadn’t expected that. “Oh…” was all he said.

Lu Xiangming continued, “I’m seven years older than Yuyu. She’s the youngest in our family and the most spoiled.”

Ji Chenai wasn’t sure where this was going. He could sense a vague hostility from Lu Xiangming, and the conversation felt oddly out of place.

Then, Lu Xiangming clarified his point. “I don’t approve of teenage relationships.”

Ji Chenai: “…You’re definitely overthinking this.”

Lu Xiangming raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Am I?”

Ji Chenai said, “You’re definitely overthinking this. Lu Yuyu and I are just classmates. She helps me a lot at school, so I tutor her occasionally in return.”

Lu Xiangming smiled but didn’t comment on Ji Chenai’s explanation. He simply said, “I hope so.”

Ji Chenai thought to himself—yep, Lu Xiangming was definitely a classic overprotective brother.

Just then, Lu Yuyu returned from the restroom. Noticing the subtle tension in the air between the two, she asked, “What were you guys talking about? Zhou Yaoqin, my brother can be a bit sharp-tongued. Don’t take him too seriously.”

Ji Chenai shook his head and smiled. “It’s fine, we were just chatting.”

Lu Xiangming gave a nonchalant “mm” in response.

Lu Yuyu shot Lu Xiangming a suspicious glare. She had originally planned to have this meal alone with Ji Chenai, but no matter how much she tried to dissuade her brother, he insisted on coming along.

With the new year approaching, they would soon be facing their final year of high school. Lu Yuyu asked Ji Chenai which university he wanted to apply to, and he shared the goal he had previously told his homeroom teacher.

Hearing his answer, Lu Yuyu didn’t seem particularly surprised. Instead, she sighed and said, “Zhou Yaoqin, sometimes I really envy you.”

Ji Chenai had never heard anyone say that about him before. He asked, “What is there to envy about me?”

Lu Yuyu pouted. “I envy how smart you are. Unlike me—I feel like my brain is filled with water, my grades are bad, and I’m just clumsy at everything.”

Ji Chenai couldn’t help but laugh at that. Lu Yuyu’s personality made it clear that she had grown up well-loved and protected. She was warm, kind, and as delicate as a flower blooming safely in a greenhouse, untouched by the harshness of the outside world.

As long as the conditions were good, spending a lifetime in a protective bubble could undoubtedly be a happy thing. Lu Yuyu had a brother who adored her, and judging by Lu Xiangming’s attitude, it was clear that their family spoiled her as well. Right now, her family shielded her from the storms of life, and one day, when she found the right person, someone else would take over that role, continuing to protect her.

Ji Chenai chuckled. “You’re praising me so much, I’m starting to feel embarrassed.”

Before Lu Yuyu could respond, Lu Xiangming cut in, “That’s what happens when you snack all day—your brain’s turning to mush.”

Lu Yuyu huffed. “I don’t even want to talk to you.”

Before long, the dishes they had ordered arrived. The three of them ate while chatting, and from their interactions, Ji Chenai realized that Lu Yuyu and Lu Xiangming’s sibling bond was even stronger than he had imagined. Despite Lu Xiangming’s cold and stern expression, his gaze always softened when he spoke to his sister.

For some reason, Ji Chenai suddenly thought of his own brother, Ji Suiming—of that look of pity in his eyes before he took his own life.

At that thought, Ji Chenai lost his appetite.

After dinner, Lu Xiangming drove Ji Chenai home. As they said their goodbyes, Lu Yuyu cheerfully promised to visit him again when she had time. Ji Chenai nodded and agreed.

Originally, Ji Chenai had planned to use the holiday to travel and explore, but Wang Zhixiu was firmly against it. In the end, he had no choice but to stay put. She didn’t expect much from his academic performance, so she had no intention of making him spend the break catching up on studies. However, she absolutely refused to let him travel alone. According to her, if he really wanted to go somewhere, she would take time off work and accompany him.

Understanding that Wang Zhixiu was simply worried about his safety, Ji Chenai ultimately chose to stay home.

Meanwhile, Zhou Leling had only six months left until the college entrance exams, so she had little time to meet up with Ji Chenai. Instead, it was Lu Yuanyuan who frequently dropped by to visit him, often bringing snacks along.

The incident that had affected Lu Yuanyuan left a significant impact on her, but she had since found a new job and rented an apartment of her own. Without familiar people around, she no longer had to listen to gossip and judgment. Her life was gradually improving.

Ji Chenai was pleased to see Lu Yuanyuan doing well, so every time she visited, he welcomed her warmly. Though their conversations were often brief and uneventful, having someone to talk to was always nice.

He had assumed that the year would pass peacefully without any surprises. However, on the eve of the New Year, someone who shouldn’t have been there suddenly knocked on the Zhou family’s door.

At the time, Wang Zhixiu was busy cooking, so Ji Chenai went to open the door. As it swung open, he was met with a familiar yet distant face—Zhou Yaoyun had returned.

Compared to a year ago, Zhou Yaoyun had grown taller. His face was leaner than when he had left, but he was still as handsome as ever. The traces of youthful immaturity had faded, replaced by a more mature aura. His hair was slightly longer, and he wore a trench coat dusted with melting snow.

Zhou Yaoyun smiled at Ji Chenai and said, “Brother, I’m back.”

Ji Chenai stood there, staring at him, momentarily unsure of how to react.

In the end, it was Wang Zhixiu who welcomed Zhou Yaoyun inside.

Ji Chenai remained silent as he watched Zhou Yaoyun take off his coat and cradle a cup of hot tea in his hands. Only then did he finally speak. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

Zhou Yaoyun smiled again, his warmth as familiar as ever—like the sun. “Because I wanted to surprise you.”

For the past two months, Ji Chenai and Zhou Yaoyun hadn’t been in contact. He had no idea how Zhou Yaoyun had been doing, and now that he had suddenly returned, Ji Chenai felt a mix of joy and something more complicated.

Wang Zhixiu warmly welcomed Zhou Yaoyun, asking him what he wanted for lunch and whether he would be staying.

Zhou Yaoyun replied, “Mom, I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

Wang Zhixiu’s smile faltered for a moment. “So soon?”

Zhou Yaoyun nodded.

She didn’t say anything more, just forced another smile before heading back into the kitchen. When Wang Zhixiu had found Zhou Yaoyun, he had only been a few months old. She had raised him as her own son. Even though the car accident had exposed deep rifts in their family, at the end of the day, her feelings for Zhou Yaoyun remained motherly and sincere.

Ji Chenai looked at Zhou Yaoyun, who now seemed somewhat unfamiliar to him, and found himself at a loss for words. Though they had exchanged letters, their conversations had mostly been about trivial matters.

As Ji Chenai hesitated, Zhou Yaoyun spoke first. “Brother, when did your leg heal?”

Ji Chenai glanced down at his leg. “Last year.”

Zhou Yaoyun sighed. “It’s a shame I wasn’t there.” He paused briefly before asking, “Will you be able to walk without a cane now?”

Ji Chenai replied, “If my recovery goes well, I should be able to.”

Silence fell between them again. After a moment, Zhou Yaoyun suddenly asked in a quiet voice, “Brother, are you mad at me?”

Ji Chenai simply shook his head slowly. “No.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?” Zhou Yaoyun pressed.

Ji Chenai opened his mouth but hesitated for a long time before finally saying, “I don’t know what to say to you.”

I don’t know where you’ve been, what you’ve been doing, when you’re coming back, or when you’ll leave again.

Zhou Yaoyun’s smile faded slightly. “But didn’t you say you’d wait for me?” He looked at Ji Chenai, searching his face. “Are you blaming me?”

Ji Chenai frowned slightly, troubled. “No, I don’t blame you. I just… don’t know what to say.”

Zhou Yaoyun nodded, his expression unreadable. “I see.”

Ji Chenai couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. Zhou Yaoyun had always treated him well, and now he had come back to see him—it should have been a happy occasion. But for some reason, looking at Zhou Yaoyun now, he felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity. The words he had originally wanted to say suddenly seemed difficult to voice.

Thankfully, it was time for dinner. Wang Zhixiu brought the dishes to the table, calling them over to eat.

Once they sat down, the tense atmosphere finally eased a little. Ji Chenai ate in silence for a while before occasionally asking Zhou Yaoyun some trivial questions. Even Wang Zhixiu was unusually cautious, as if afraid of saying the wrong thing and making Zhou Yaoyun uncomfortable.

After the meal, Zhou Yaoyun took the initiative to wash the dishes. Seeing that there was no fruit left at home, Wang Zhixiu decided to go out and buy some. She asked Zhou Yaoyun what he wanted, but he simply said anything was fine.

With Wang Zhixiu gone, only Ji Chenai and Zhou Yaoyun remained in the house.

Back when he was still in a wheelchair, Ji Chenai hadn’t really noticed. But now that he was standing, he realized just how much shorter he was than Zhou Yaoyun. At most, he was 1.75 meters tall, while Zhou Yaoyun had shot up again—probably nearing 1.9 meters by now.

Zhou Yaoyun asked, “Brother, is there really nothing you want to say to me?”

Ji Chenai hesitated for a moment before finally voicing the questions that had been weighing on his mind. “Where did you go? Do you really not care… that Zhou Yaoqin has been replaced?”

These questions had troubled Ji Chenai for a long time. From his perspective, discovering that a family member had been swapped with someone else was something almost impossible to accept. Yet, Zhou Yaoyun had accepted it so smoothly that it felt almost unnatural.

Zhou Yaoyun stared at Ji Chenai for a moment, then suddenly smiled—his usual bright, dazzling smile. “Are these the only two questions you have?”

Ji Chenai thought about it and realized that, for now, these were the most important ones. So, he nodded.

Zhou Yaoyun chuckled. “Brother, you’re really slow.”

With that, he raised his hand and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Ji Chenai was startled by the action, thinking for a moment that Zhou Yaoyun was about to beat him up. But as he continued undressing, taking off more and more until he was left in just his undershirt, Ji Chenai couldn’t help but feel confused. “What are you doing…?”

Zhou Yaoyun smiled. “I’m giving you your answer.”

And with that, he pulled off his undershirt as well.

The moment Zhou Yaoyun took off his undershirt, Ji Chenai drew in a sharp breath.

His bare upper body was covered in scars—dense, overlapping marks left by wounds that had long since healed. The most striking among them was a grotesque scar stretching from his waist all the way to his chest, right over his heart. It looked like a giant centipede crawling across his skin, glaringly conspicuous.

Seeing Ji Chenai frozen in shock, Zhou Yaoyun spoke softly, “It looks terrifying, doesn’t it?”

Ji Chenai asked, “Did you get all these during your time away?”

Zhou Yaoyun pointed to the most hideous scar and said, “Aside from this one, yes. The rest happened after I left.”

Ji Chenai hesitated before asking, “And this one?”

At this, Zhou Yaoyun’s smile faded. His voice was quieter when he replied, “This one… was left by Zhou Yaoqin.”

Ji Chenai suddenly recalled something Wang Zhixiu had mentioned before—the accident.

In that car crash, both Zhou Yaoyun and Zhou Yaoqin had been injured. And in the end, Wang Zhixiu had chosen to save Zhou Yaoyun’s life… at the cost of Zhou Yaoqin’s leg.

Zhou Yaoyun said, “It’s hard for me to like Zhou Yaoqin.”

Ji Chenai frowned. “Why?” By all logic, Wang Zhixiu had chosen Zhou Yaoyun over Zhou Yaoqin during the accident. No matter what, Zhou Yaoyun shouldn’t hold any resentment toward his older brother.

Zhou Yaoyun’s voice was calm but firm. “Because aside from me and Zhou Yaoqin, no one knows the truth—the accident was caused by him.”

Ji Chenai felt his mind go blank, overwhelmed by the revelation.

Zhou Yaoyun continued, “Back then, we were both just kids. I used to follow him around everywhere, but he never really liked me. Sometimes, he would even bully me.”

He paused for a moment before adding, “But despite that, I was still happy most of the time. Until the day he insisted on dragging me across the street.”

That sentence was like a key, unlocking a sealed-off part of Xiao Qi’s memories. Ji Chenai’s head spun, and suddenly, he saw two children in his mind’s eye.

Their features were somewhat blurred, but there was no mistaking it—they were younger versions of Zhou Yaoqin and Zhou Yaoyun.

In the memory, the older child forcefully pulled the younger one toward the road. The younger boy clearly didn’t want to cross, resisting with all his might. But no matter how much he struggled, he was still dragged into the street.

The accident happened in an instant.

A large truck was parked beside them, creating a blind spot. Just as they dashed out from behind it, a speeding car came hurtling past—

A violent collision.

Their small bodies were flung into the air.

The moment of impact blurred into searing pain. Ji Chenai’s vision darkened—he could no longer make out anything else.

Zhou Yaoyun noticed Ji Chenai’s silence and assumed he was still in shock. He glanced down at the jagged scar on his waist, his tone indifferent. “For a long time, I hated Zhou Yaoqin.”

Ji Chenai made a low sound of acknowledgment.

Zhou Yaoyun continued, “Because of him, Mom told me the truth—that I wasn’t her biological son.” A self-mocking smile tugged at his lips. “I was so jealous of Zhou Yaoqin.”

Ji Chenai looked at the detached expression on Zhou Yaoyun’s face and murmured, “Put your clothes back on. You’ll catch a cold.”

Zhou Yaoyun lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Ji Chenai. “Do you find it unpleasant to look at?”

Ji Chenai scoffed, “Unpleasant to look at? My ass. I just feel bad for you, okay? Besides, with that physique and those scars, you actually look pretty badass. If I were a girl, I’d probably have thrown myself at you already.”

Zhou Yaoyun raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You don’t have to be a girl for that, you know.”

Ji Chenai let out a dry laugh.

The tension in the air finally eased a little.

Zhou Yaoyun continued, “I’m really grateful to Mom. If it weren’t for her, I would have been dead a long time ago. That’s why I never told her the truth about the accident—I didn’t want to make things even harder for her.”

She was already wracked with guilt over choosing one son over the other. If she ever learned that Zhou Yaoqin was the one responsible for the crash, it would break her even more.

Zhou Yaoyun sighed. “So this became a secret between me and Zhou Yaoqin. But after everything, he acted like it had never even happened. As if I owed him something instead.”

Zhou Yaoyun paused for a moment before continuing, “He said he liked me and wanted to be with me… But how could that ever be possible? I can take care of him for a lifetime, but being with him in that way? Never.”

Ji Chenai let out a deep sigh.

Zhou Yaoyun went on, “I’ve said it before—I’m not a good person. When I first realized he was gone, my initial reaction was relief. It was only afterward that I started feeling guilty for Mom’s sake.”

After some thought, Ji Chenai decided to tell him the truth. “Zhou Yaoqin took his own life.”

Zhou Yaoyun fell silent. After a long pause, he finally said, “I’m sorry.”

That apology wasn’t meant for Ji Chenai.

He added, “I really did my best, but I couldn’t give him love.” He could have looked after Zhou Yaoqin for the rest of his life, but what Zhou Yaoqin truly wanted was something he could never offer.

With that, Zhou Yaoyun had given Ji Chenai a final answer about Zhou Yaoqin—one that Ji Chenai found acceptable.

So, he moved on to the next question.

“What have you been doing all this time?”

Ji Chenai had asked Zhou Yaoyun this question countless times before, but Zhou Yaoyun never gave a straight answer. However, with Xiao Qi as his golden cheat code, Ji Chenai had happily embraced his role as a voyeur, piecing together bits and pieces of what Zhou Yaoyun had been up to.

Judging by the scars on his body, Zhou Yaoyun clearly hadn’t been living the good life. As he methodically put his undershirt back on, he finally answered, “I was in training.”

Ji Chenai raised an eyebrow. “Training… to join the mafia?”

Zhou Yaoyun gave him a look. “Brother, what are you even thinking?”

Ji Chenai clicked his tongue. For some reason, he actually felt a little disappointed.

Was joining the underworld not trendy anymore?

Zhou Yaoyun, catching the subtle shift in Ji Chenai’s expression, inexplicably sensed that disappointment. He sighed in exasperation. “Brother, what exactly have you been learning while I was gone?”

Ji Chenai blinked innocently. “Nothing much.”

=^_^=