Chapter 2: The Tsundere Little Brother

Kidnapped?

Yao Yao blinked several times before she fully understood what the boy meant.

So… they hadn’t taken her to find her mother?

Yao Yao sniffled, and her eyes suddenly grew misty. She was about to cry when she met the boy’s cold, piercing black eyes—and promptly shut her mouth.

She gestured at him, asking what they should do next.

The boy silently pointed at the crocheted pouch slung at her waist.

Yao Yao looked down and saw the tip of the dagger her second brother had given her poking out. She quickly pulled it free.

Suddenly, the carriage jolted.

The sharp blade sliced clean through the hair hanging over her shoulders.

Yao Yao was so terrified she nearly lost her soul.

Her small hands went limp, and the dagger fell from her grasp, embedding itself into the wooden floor of the carriage.

The boy swiftly picked it up, gripping it tightly in his palm.

Yao Yao noticed the fierce expression on his face and instinctively clutched her little jacket, whispering in a tiny voice, “Cutting your hand with a knife hurts.”

She had seen her second brother accidentally cut his hand while playing with a knife before—it had bled a lot and was really scary.

The boy seemed to soften ever so slightly at her reminder.

He glanced at the sweat beading in her palm, then silently pulled out the handkerchief tucked at his waist and tossed it onto her lap.

Yao Yao picked up the handkerchief, thinking he wanted to trade it for her dagger. She immediately shook her head.

“This was a gift from my second brother. Yao Yao won’t trade.”

Once again, the boy’s plan was interrupted by Yao Yao. He frowned and finally uttered two words in a low voice: “So noisy.”

Yao Yao immediately flared up.

How dare he try to steal her stuff and then call her noisy?

She was just about to snatch the dagger back when the carriage suddenly shook violently.

Instinctively, Yao Yao reached for something to hold onto—and her chubby little arms easily wrapped around the boy’s slim waist.

She buried her face in his chest like a little monkey clinging to him.

The coldness in the boy’s eyes deepened, but before he could push her away—

The carriage completely lost balance.

The two of them tumbled out together, rolling into a nearby pile of dry hay.

A woman’s sharp scream echoed through the forest.

But it didn’t last long before the surroundings fell back into silence.

Yao Yao didn’t have time to be scared. She squeezed her eyes shut, afraid she had been thrown to her death.

Only when she heard heavy breathing in her ear did she cautiously open her eyes. Her chubby hands groped around beneath her and were surprised by a soft sensation.

Realizing her movements, the boy—pinned beneath her—grunted in annoyance. “You’re heavy.”

Yao Yao muttered a quick “sorry” while trying to crawl off him, but before she could move, those cold little hands pressed down on the back of her head, pushing her chubby face back into his chest.

“Don’t move,” the boy said grumpily.

“Oh.”
Yao Yao bit her lip meekly.

She didn’t dare speak again and instead inhaled a whiff of the faint jasmine scent from his clothes.

The soft aroma quickly calmed her down.

Listening to the thunderous heartbeat under her ear, she thought for a moment there might be a thunderstorm coming.

Dew slowly trickled down the yellowing leaves above.

Another wave of sleepiness hit her, and Yao Yao was just about to doze off—

When the boy suddenly shoved her off roughly.

Luckily, the hay pile cushioned her fall. She quickly got up and brushed the dry grass from her bottom, then tilted her head to look up at the boy who was a full head taller than her.

The moonlight was pale.

Shadows of trees danced gently across the ground.

This time, Yao Yao got a better look at his face.

His skin was as fair as snow—clean and pure like the little white bunny she raised in the backyard.

But his eyes were far from gentle.

Sigh…
Yao Yao propped her chin on her hand, wanting to complain that her little bunny at home had a huge appetite, eating two carrots and a small cabbage a day.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, the boy walked past her without a word and headed toward the overturned carriage.

Yao Yao hurried after him and mimicked his posture, peeking into the carriage.

Before she could see clearly, that cold palm pressed over her eyes again.

The boy used just enough force that she couldn’t escape, and she muttered under her breath, “Why won’t you let Yao Yao look?”

“It’s disgusting.”

“You’ll puke.”

The boy was blunt and to the point.

But to Yao Yao, his tone had always been the same—flat and emotionless.

Xie Yixing quietly stared at the two bodies that had been hollowed out by wolf claws.

The bloody, shredded corpses were surrounded by scattered flesh.

Any ordinary seven-year-old would have been traumatized by such a gruesome sight.

He, however, showed no reaction.

His nanny used to say he was a reincarnated monster—never cried or laughed as a baby.

He didn’t start speaking until he was three, and his first words were, “Stay away from me.”

His parents forbade him from leaving the residence. Even the servants kept their distance out of fear.

He was like a bird trapped in a gilded cage, raised in wealth but yearning for freedom.

So he ran away.

And was kidnapped the moment he stepped outside.

It seemed his parents had been right—the outside world really was dangerous.

When he looked down again at the chubby little girl beside him, he finally noticed her two high ponytails had come loose. The jade bell tied in her hair now dangled carelessly among her messy locks. Her soft, pale cheeks looked extremely squishy.

He lowered his gaze in thought.

Since he had finally left the house, he couldn’t go back empty-handed.

Fine. He’d take this chubby girl home with him.

He grabbed Yao Yao’s chubby wrist and, relying on his instincts, began heading north.

Halfway there, Yao Yao suddenly began to struggle.

“Where are you taking Yao Yao?”

She looked at the pitch-dark forest around them, shivering with cold sweat when she faintly heard wolves howling in the distance.

She was terrified he’d feed her to the wolves.

Xie Yixing finally spoke, and for the first time, Yao Yao heard a hint of warmth in his otherwise expressionless voice.

“Home.”

“I’m taking you home.”

When they reached the city gates on foot, the curfew had already passed.

Seeing the gate tightly shut, Xie Yixing pulled a jade pendant from his waist and handed it to the soldier on guard.

The guard glanced at it and immediately gave a respectful bow. “Young master, curfew rules say no one can pass the gate after hours. No matter how noble your status, I can’t break the law and open the gate for you.”

Yao Yao patted her growling belly regretfully. “But Yao Yao’s hungry. Yao Yao wants to eat.”

Only then did the guard notice the little girl in the young master’s arms.

Her round face and big eyes were utterly adorable.

He also didn’t understand why the young master was so afraid she’d run off.

She wasn’t stupid—there were wolves behind them, and she didn’t want to become dinner.

The guard noticed that Xie Yixing’s eyes had never left the little girl. He quickly arranged lodging for them and even ordered a chicken to be cooked so they could eat their fill.

Yao Yao held the drumstick with greasy fingers, happily munching away, while Xie Yixing sat stiffly, refusing to touch his food.

Seeing that he wasn’t eating, Yao Yao didn’t think much of it. She tore off a piece of her chicken and stuffed it directly into his mouth.

Xie Yixing, caught off guard by the chubby little hand, was about to spit it out—

But when he looked up and met Yao Yao’s hopeful eyes, he did something he had never done before:

He ate food that someone else had fed him.

As the night deepened,

Yao Yao leaned against his shoulder and dozed off.

No sooner had she closed her eyes than she began mumbling in her sleep: “Buns… meat skewers… big chicken legs…”

Xie Yixing was inexplicably amused.

When he realized the corners of his mouth were lifting instead of frowning, his eyes widened in shock.

He—he actually smiled?