Tong Jiaxin shifted closer to his older brother, his patched-up schoolbag slung over one shoulder, eyes wide with disbelief. “Second Brother, isn’t she… isn’t she that one?”

Before their parents passed, they’d once brought back a photo from that side. The girl in the photo looked a lot like the one standing right in front of them now.

Looking similar wasn’t the problem. The problem was—what was she doing here?!

Tong Jiaming stared at Tong Xuelu silently, saying nothing.

Sure, these two would grow up to become bigshots, but for now, they were just a pair of grubby little kids. Tong Xuelu had absolutely no reason to be intimidated.

She walked over to the water vat, filled a basin, and began washing her face as she spoke casually, “You’re back. Go wash up—dinner’s ready.”

Tong Jiaxin nudged his brother with his elbow. “Second Brother, what do you think she’s doing here? What should we do now?”

Don’t be fooled by his age—he understood everything.

That so-called “real sister” of theirs hadn’t wanted to come home with their parents back then. She and that ungrateful snake Tong Zhenzhen had fought tooth and nail to stay over there, clinging to that rich family like leeches. Didn’t that whole side have a bunch of high-ranking officials? She’d looked down on them for being poor, plain and simple!

Well, if she was so disgusted by them back then, she should’ve had the guts to stay gone.

And anyway, if it weren’t for her and Tong Zhenzhen, their parents wouldn’t be dead!

The more Tong Jiaxin thought about it, the angrier he got—his little fists clenching tight.

Tong Jiaming still didn’t say a word, eyes fixed on Tong Xuelu.

Seeing that neither of them responded to her, Tong Xuelu didn’t bother wasting her warmth. She turned around and went back into the house to light the oil lamp and get dinner ready.

These weren’t toddlers like Tong Mianmian, who could be bribed with a piece of candy and a hug.

Especially Tong Jiaming. The classic “white cut black”—clean on the outside, dark on the inside. Even in this era, he was already sharp and calculating. He wasn’t someone who’d be won over with a few sweet words.

But Tong Xuelu wasn’t worried. Everyone had weaknesses—you just had to find them, then pick them off one by one.

Besides, if she couldn’t even handle two kids, what kind of green tea queen had she been all these years?

Inside, little Tong Mianmian was sitting on the bed with her round belly sticking out, holding a nail clipper she’d somehow found.

She stuck out one chubby foot and tried to clip her toenails, but the moment the clipper got close, her foot seemed to sense danger and jerked away on its own.

Her little hand chased after it, only for her foot to dodge again. This happened again and again—the hand lunging, the foot escaping, like an endless game of tag.

Eventually, she seemed worn out. Pouting, she pointed at her own foot and scolded in a milky voice, like a tiny adult, “You’re naughty. You’re not as well-behaved as Mianmian!”

Tong Xuelu couldn’t help it—she burst out laughing.

When she’d first walked in and seen Mianmian holding a nail clipper, she’d been worried. She never expected her little feet would instinctively dodge danger.

Hearing the laugh, Tong Mianmian looked up and beamed. She immediately held out her pudgy arms and squealed, “Sissy, hug hug!”

Tong Xuelu walked over, picked her up, and gently took the nail clippers from her little hand. “You’re not allowed to play with these on your own anymore, okay? They’re dangerous.”

Tong Mianmian rested her head on her shoulder, wrapping her tiny arms around Tong Xuelu’s neck. “Got it, Sis. Mianmian won’t play with them again!”

Her voice was as sweet and soft as cotton candy, and her obedient tone melted Tong Xuelu’s heart all over again. She kissed her on the dimple, making the little dumpling giggle uncontrollably.

Just then, Tong Jiaxin stormed in and yanked Mianmian out of her arms. He scolded her loudly, “Tong Mianmian, you little dummy! Didn’t I tell you not to talk to strangers?!”

Mianmian was startled. Her lips trembled as she tried to explain, her voice wobbling with the threat of tears. “She’s not a stranger. She’s my sister.”

This sister braided her hair, bought her candy, and even kissed her cheek. She liked this sister.

Her old “sister,” Tong Zhenzhen, used to call her stupid, and when no one was around, she’d pinch her—really hard. It hurt so bad.

She’d told her not to tell Mom and Dad, but Mianmian remembered. She didn’t like that sister.

Seeing that Mianmian was actually defending Tong Xuelu, Tong Jiaxin flew into a rage and pinched her chubby little cheek. “You’re such an idiot! Who says she’s your sister?! Why are you calling her that like it’s all sweet? What if she’s trying to sell you off?!”

Mianmian’s eyes turned red with grievance. “Mianmian’s not an idiot! Sister wouldn’t sell me!”

Tong Xuelu saw the red marks on the little girl’s cheek and frowned, her voice instantly cold. “She’s just a three-year-old—what could she possibly understand? If you’ve got something to say, say it to me!”

Hmph. If it’s a fight you want, then bring it on—she wasn’t scared of him.

Just as Tong Jiaxin was about to launch another verbal attack, Tong Jiaming cut him off sharply. “Jiaxin, shut your mouth.”

He then took Mianmian into his arms, his movements gentle as he patted her on the back.

Sniffling, Mianmian nestled into his embrace, her soft voice full of indignation. “Second Brother, Sister’s not bad. She gave me candy.”

She dug around in her pocket with her chubby little hand, then proudly pulled out a piece of milk candy and tried to stuff it into his mouth.

Sister had given her three pieces—she’d eaten one and saved the other two for her brothers.

But since Third Brother yelled at her and Sister, she suddenly didn’t want to give him any.

Tong Jiaming dodged. “Second Brother’s not hungry. You eat it.”

Mianmian grew anxious. “No! Second Brother has to eat!”

If Second Brother ate Sister’s candy, maybe he wouldn’t call her a stranger anymore.

Tong Jiaming had no choice but to take it. “Okay, I’ll eat it later.”

Mianmian, finally satisfied, still made sure to remind him in her syrupy voice, “Then Second Brother, you have to eat it later, okay?”

Tong Jiaming nodded, then carried Mianmian outside to wash her hands.

Tong Jiaxin, furious that his little sister hadn’t given him any candy, flared his nostrils like an angry bull. Even so, his eyes never left Tong Xuelu—watching her like she was a thief ready to pounce.

When he saw that Second Brother and Mianmian had gone out, he quickly followed them.

Tong Jiaming filled a basin with water and gently washed Mianmian’s hands before cleaning his own face and hands.

Tong Jiaxin stormed out, full of indignation. “Second Brother, why didn’t you let me go off on her? Are you scared of her or something?”

Tong Jiaming still didn’t respond.

Jiaxin, like a firecracker lit at both ends, exploded nonstop: “Don’t worry, I’m not like Little Sis who gets tricked just because someone gave her a snack. I won’t fall for that! I’m not eating anything she makes!”

Back when Tong Zhenzhen was here, she never did any chores. And this new one—raised in some fancy official’s household—had probably never even touched a broom.

Whatever she cooked had to be awful. So even if he starved, he refused to eat anything that came out of her hands!

Tong Xuelu: “…”

Tsk tsk, out of the three future moguls, the youngest really was the feistiest.

But that tracked with what she knew of his past. Tong Jiaxin had always been creative and bold, with a talent for fashion design. He’d later ride the wave of China’s economic reform, making a name for himself in the industry and even winning international awards.

Unfortunately, his personality was always a challenge. Growing up in a stifling environment back in Beihe made him overly sensitive and prone to angry outbursts. He never learned how to handle relationships properly.

His wife had eventually asked for a divorce, and tragically died in a car accident on the day they were meant to separate.

Wracked with guilt, Tong Jiaxin never remarried.

—

Tong Jiaming came back inside with Mianmian in his arms.

Seeing that the food had already been served on the table, he paused briefly—then sat down with his sister in his lap.

Tong Jiaxin opened his mouth to protest but was silenced by a sharp glare from his brother. He swallowed his words but made a firm vow in his heart:

He wasn’t going to touch a single bite of her food. Absolutely not!!!

But the moment he sat down, a bold, mouthwatering aroma wrapped around him like a net.

He’d never smelled anything this delicious in his life. And the fried rice—golden, glossy, each grain glistening in the lamplight—was practically glowing.

It looked so good. What did it taste like?

He swallowed hard. His stomach rumbled loudly in betrayal.

Before his brain could stop him, his hand reached for the spoon, scooped up a big bite… and stuffed it into his mouth.

Oh. My. God. It was amazing!

The rice was perfectly tender and soft. You couldn’t even see the eggs, yet every bite was bursting with rich, eggy flavor. Tong Jiaxin had eaten egg fried rice before, but it had never tasted this good!

He picked up a bite of the stir-fried bok choy—crisp and fresh, with a bold garlic aroma that practically danced across his tongue.

Ohhh, what kind of heavenly bok choy is this?!

The same boy who swore he’d rather die than eat her food was now—within the blink of an eye—polishing off his entire bowl. Without a shred of shame, he got up to refill another.

He was practically the poster child for “slapping your own face with your actions.”

Maybe it was the incredible flavor of the food… or maybe the soft glow of the lamplight… but for some reason, Tong Jiaxin thought Tong Xuelu didn’t look quite as annoying anymore.

Hmph, maybe she’s not completely useless after all.

If she kept cooking meals like this, then… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having her around.

Tong Jiaming, watching his little brother wolf down the food like he’d been starved for a week, couldn’t bear to look.

Wasn’t this the same person who was just ranting that he’d never be tricked by a bowl of rice? The same person who swore up and down he wouldn’t eat anything she made?

Embarrassing.

Tong Mianmian’s cheeks were stuffed like a little hamster, her face glowing with contentment.

Tong Xuelu chuckled and reached over to wipe the leftover rice off her face.

Ah yes, the legendary “Smells Too Good to Resist” rule—late, but never absent.
No one could escape it. Ever.

Meanwhile, at the Fang family home in the General Logistics Department compound—

Fang Jingyuan stirred the meat dish with her chopsticks, poking around and making a mess. Fang Wenyuan frowned when he saw her. “Where did you pick up that habit? How do you expect anyone else to eat after you’ve done that?”

Jingyuan pouted in frustration. But the one scolding her was her eldest brother—the person she feared most—so she only dared to mutter under her breath, “It’s not like it’s inedible.”

Fang Wenyuan gave her a sharp look, and she immediately shut her mouth.

Still, she fumed internally. Her big brother had gotten more and more uptight over the years. He was always frowning like some grumpy old man.

Suddenly Fang Jingyuan remembered her run‑in with Tong Xuelu at noon. Her eyes lit up. “Big Brother, guess who I bumped into at the gate today?”

Fang Wenyuan kept his head down, eating as though he hadn’t heard a thing.

Jingyuan was used to that reaction. She barreled on. “I saw Tong Xuelu! Bet you don’t know this—she’s been kicked out of the Tong family!”

For a few seconds the dining room went silent. Then it exploded.

Mrs. Fang stared, stunned. “The Tong family threw her out? That can’t be true, can it?”

The scandal of the Tong family’s real‑versus‑fake daughters had been the talk of the entire Logistics Corps compound. Everyone knew the story: after raising a daughter for more than a decade, the Tong parents discovered she wasn’t their flesh and blood. Hand‑picked or not, both girls were dear to them—how could anyone bear to cast one aside?

Most people assumed Tong Xuelu would stay; she herself was unwilling to leave, and after all those years of affection the Tong couple surely couldn’t send her back to a life of hardship.

So the news that she’d actually been driven out was jaw‑dropping.

Seeing every eye on her, Jingyuan smirked. “Why not? I watched her myself—lugging a bunch of bags, slinking off toward the bus station. Dad, Mom, with Tong Xuelu kicked out, Big Brother’s engagement to her doesn’t count anymore, right?”

Father and Mother Fang exchanged a look. Mrs. Fang turned to her eldest.

Wenyuan, what do you plan to do about this?”

Fang Wenyuan didn’t even lift his eyelids. His voice was calm and cool. “Isn’t this perfect? I never acknowledged that engagement in the first place.”

Mrs. Fang shot him a half‑annoyed glance, then sighed. “Fine. I suppose you two just aren’t fated. I’ll speak to the Tong family and end it neatly, so there’s no bad blood on either side.”

The engagement had been arranged years ago by the old master of the Fang family and Tong Xuelu’s grandfather—a classic childhood betrothal. But from a young age, Fang Wenyuan had disliked Tong Xuelu, while she, on the other hand, insisted she’d marry no one but him. The whole situation had been a headache for both families.

Now that it was clear Tong Xuelu wasn’t even a biological daughter of the Tong family, Fang Wenyuan had even less reason to entertain the match. With their social status no longer aligned, the marriage simply made no sense.

Fang Wenyuan’s expression remained indifferent, but Fang Jingyuan was clearly thrilled.

Her mind was already racing with ideas. She had to pick a day to seek Tong Xuelu out and deliver the news of the broken engagement herself. She wanted to see the look on her face—let’s see how smug she acts then!

Meanwhile, Tong Xuelu had no idea she’d become dinner conversation at the Fang household.

Entertainment was scarce in this era, so after dinner and a quick wash, most people turned in early for the night.

The Tong house had gone dark as well. Tong Mianmian was curled up in her arms like a doll, cheeks flushed pink as she slept soundly.

Outside, the chirping of insects echoed through the yard. Inside, it was quiet as a breath.

Suddenly, a low voice broke the stillness—

“Tell me. Why did you really come back?”

=^_^=

Author has something to say: Tong Jiaxin before dinner: “I’d rather die than eat her food!”

Tong Jiaxin after dinner: “Dad!”