Liu Wanying paused for a moment, remembering to raise a hand to signal the cameraman to stop filming before her eyes reddened.
The red recording light went out.
By the time she turned to face Jiang Yanchu, her eyes had reddened just enough. "Yan Chu, what do you mean by that? Do you think I'm deliberately trying to hurt Jiang Xun?"
"I know you're worried about him, but you can't pin everything on me! I saw that trending topic too, and it broke my heart too, but that was because of his own poor performance on the show-"
Jiang Yanchu's gaze swept over Liu Wanying's face, and his lips curled into a mocking smile.
"Aunt Liu, do you think I'm stupid?"
Liu Wanying's fingers tightened slightly around her skirt, but the gentle mask on her face remained unmoved. "Yan Chu, what are you saying? When have I ever thought you were stupid? You're a child of the Jiang family. I've always treated you as my own son..."
"Then stop acting." Jiang Yanchu's voice suddenly rose, startling even Wang Ma in the corner into shrinking back.
"You never consulted me once about sending Jiang Xun on that show. Dad and our eldest brother are both in Germany. You deliberately picked this moment so you could send him away without a word, didn't you?"
"You told me Dad signed off on it. Fine. Then tell me, when did he sign? He and our eldest brother are attending a closed-door conference. I still can't get hold of my brother. How did you manage it?"
Liu Wanying's eyes reddened, tears welling in them without a single one falling.
She turned toward the servants in the living room, her voice choked. "You all heard that, didn't you? I've been in this family for seventeen years. I raised Yan Chu from childhood, and now he's speaking to me like this over someone who's only been back a few days-"
"Don't change the subject." Jiang Yanchu refused to be sidetracked. "The IP addresses of those paid trolls attacking Jiang Xun on the trending topic have been traced to three PR companies. One of them has worked with the Jiang Corporation before. What a coincidence, wouldn't you say, Aunt Liu?"
Before Liu Wanying could answer, a timid voice drifted over from the stairs.
"Brother Yanchu..."
Everyone turned toward the stairs at once. Shen Yuxing's slight figure huddled in the shadow of the banister.
He had stayed out of the argument from beginning to end, as quiet as an ornament, so much so that everyone present had forgotten he was even in the house.
Now that he suddenly spoke, even Jiang Yanchu paused.
"Could you please stop arguing with Auntie?" Shen Yuxing's voice was soft and delicate, as though he had summoned every ounce of courage just to speak.
"Auntie was only doing it for Xiao Xun's sake. She's cried several times at home, saying it hurts her too that Xiao Xun is suffering out there."
An almost imperceptible crack appeared in Liu Wanying's expression, and a flash of undisguised surprise crossed her eyes as she looked at Shen Yuxing.
"I don't really understand trending topics and things like that, but I don't think Auntie would do something like that." Shen Yuxing quietly lowered his injured hand and hid it behind his back.
"She's so good even to me. How could she be unkind to Xiao Xun? Don't be angry, Brother Yanchu. If you're worried about Xiao Xun, we can call him together."
Standing behind the sofa, Jiang Yu had witnessed everything but dared not say a word. Thinking back to when the game console had fallen, Shen Yuxing could clearly have braced his hand against the cabinet, but he hadn't.
His hand had missed by those few centimeters, just enough for the limited-edition console to slip past his fingertips, just enough for its rotation in midair to bring it down on the most fragile corner of the screen.
Now he stood on the stairs, in Jiang Yanchu's peripheral vision, under everyone's gaze, obedient and considerate, putting in a good word for Liu Wanying with reddened eyes.
Although he was concealing the injury on his hand, that only made it more visible to everyone present.
Before Jiang Yu could think any further, Jiang Yanchu spoke again.
"Aunt Liu, I'll keep investigating the trending topic." His tone was so calm it bordered on cold. "You'd better pray those paid trolls have nothing to do with you. If they do-"
He left the sentence unfinished.
But that half second of silence made Liu Wanying turn pale.
Jiang Xun was still in Shiban Village, yet to return. Jiang Yanchu, the stepson she had thought easiest to control, had suddenly started biting, while that poor boy from the backwoods whom she had never given a second thought-
Liu Wanying's gaze lingered on Shen Yuxing's face for a moment, and he gave her a sweet smile.
A sudden chill shot up her back.
A poor boy she treated as a tool had, after days of her cold indifference, volunteered to speak up for her on camera.
Either he really was stupid, or he was after something bigger.
And after so long among the wealthy, Liu Wanying never believed there were truly stupid people in this world.
The mountain night was unbearably cold.
Wrapped in that ragged padded coat, Duan Qizhao tossed and turned on the three-legged bench, curling himself into a frozen shrimp.
The cotton inside the coat had long since hardened into lumps, offering about as much warmth as a sheet of newspaper. Mountain wind poured through the cracks in the walls, making straight for the back of his neck.
He glared at the dim yellow light bulb hanging from the roof beam, his teeth chattering.
The two people on the bed, meanwhile, were sleeping soundly.
Grandpa snored softly, while Jiang Xun was dead to the world, his breathing long and steady. Occasionally he rolled over, making the quilt rustle.
Duan Qizhao stared at that quilt, his eyes gleaming in the darkness.
Why? We were both dumped here by our families to reform, so why does Jiang Xun get a quilt while I get a ragged coat? Why does he get the bed while I get a bench? Is that fair?
He pulled the ragged coat tighter around himself, his teeth chattering from the cold.
It wasn't actually unbearable. It was just that the quilt looked pretty wide, far more than two people needed, with most of it trailing on the floor.
What's wrong with giving me half of such a wide quilt? I'm not greedy. Half will do.
Duan Qizhao went over that logic three times in his head, confirmed it was flawless, then took a deep breath and sat up.
The bench gave a piercing creak. He froze in fright, holding his breath and listening intently for a long while.
There was no movement from the bed, nor from Shen Wangjing by the door.
Duan Qizhao rose quietly and inched toward the bed on tiptoe.
The floor creaked with every step. He stopped after each one, turning a mere three-meter journey into a heart-stopping ordeal.
At last, he reached the bedside.
Jiang Xun was fast asleep, half his face buried in the pillow. His eyelashes cast a small patch of shadow in the moonlight, his lips slightly parted, his breathing almost inaudible.
Sure enough, most of the quilt trailed on the floor. He had only pulled one corner over his stomach, with the rest pinned beneath him as padding.
What an absolute waste!
Duan Qizhao grumbled inwardly, reached out to pinch the corner of the quilt, held his breath, and lifted it with the lightest touch of his life.
One inch, two inches.
He slowly lifted the corner, and a rush of warmth spilled out from beneath it, carrying the scent of soap pods and the lingering, sun-warmed scent of Jiang Xun's body.
Duan Qizhao nearly hummed with pleasure. He tugged the quilt toward himself and cautiously lay down sideways along the edge of the bed. Just as his back touched the bedboards-
A hand abruptly clamped onto the back of his collar.
The force jerked his entire body backward, lifting him straight off the bed like a kitten caught by the scruff.
His feet hung ten centimeters above the floor, his legs flailing twice in the air, his collar strangling him so tightly he could barely breathe.
Before you continue