Jiang Huaixiao fell silent for a long time.
Cicadas chirped outside the window, and the landscape lights in the courtyard cast a small, hazy patch of orange-yellow on the floor.
He had imagined ten thousand ways Jiang Xun might confront him. Every one bristled with blades, every one poised to stab him into a bloody mess.
He had never imagined this one.
Just sitting quietly across from him, asking him for an answer.
Jiang Huaixiao knew he should not say anything.
There were rules governing the Special Task Force's work, risks surrounding Shen Wangjing's identity, and the more Jiang Xun knew, the less willing he would be to stay put.
He should have done what he always had: compressed his concern into an impassive silence and kept his younger brother outside the reach of every danger.
But Jiang Xun looked straight at him, every thorn in those eyes drawn back, his armor stripped away, as though one more evasive word would make the light in them shatter before his eyes.
Jiang Huaixiao's throat tightened.
He had always been an unwelcome guest in this bedroom, but the way Jiang Xun looked at him now was as though he were truly asking him for help.
"Zhou Yanqing will protect him." Jiang Huaixiao took a deep breath. Rather than answer directly, he only said, "He's safer than you think."
"Safe?" Jiang Xun's breathing quickened. His thin fingers struggled free of the covers and twisted into the hem of his shirt. "He's out there alone as bait, and you're telling me he's safe?"
"He won't be alone." Jiang Huaixiao paused, softening his voice. "And he isn't the only one."
His voice was very quiet as he said this, with even a faint trace of tenderness.
Here and now, facing his red-eyed younger brother, the