Chapter Seven: He Doesn’t See Himself as Her Brother, and She Doesn’t Care!

Jiang Lingyao even felt that it was impossible for Jiang Xiuyuan’s heart to be completely unmoved. So she handed him the soup again. “Big brother, take a sip. You’ll be able to tell.”

Jiang Xiuyuan’s anger flickered briefly as he lowered his eyes to the bowl of soup in Jiang Lingyao’s hands, a sudden ache welling up in his heart.

In truth, there was no need to taste it. The moment he stepped through the door and caught that distinctive aroma, he knew it was the soup Jiang Lingyao had brewed.

This nourishing lung soup was special, and the process to make it was extremely tedious. Back then, when his frail health kept him from assuming his title and plunged him into despair, only little Jiang Lingyao never gave up on him.

That day, she hid her hands, covered in small blisters from being scalded, pushed open the dim room’s door, and with sparkling eyes held out the soup, saying, “Big brother, this is Mingzhu’s soup, brewed just for you. Please drink it quickly. You’ve been coughing for so long and look so unwell; Mingzhu is very worried.”

In Jiang Lingyao’s innocent eyes, there was only concern for him, no hint of desire—unlike others, whose care was feigned due to their own status. She simply cared for him, cared for her brother.

Thinking of this, Jiang Xiuyuan curled his fingers slightly but felt Song Lian’er tugging at his sleeve beside him, her eyes filled with grievance, on the verge of tears.

His softened heart hardened once more as he ordered Jiang Lingyao coldly, “You may leave now.”

Song Lian’er’s gaze darkened at his words, and with a pained expression, she extended her pale, slightly reddened hand. “Big brother, my hand was burned. It hurts so much.”

Hearing her, Jiang Xiuyuan’s gaze instinctively flicked to Jiang Lingyao, meeting the cold indifference in her eyes. His breath caught, and an uncomfortable feeling settled in his heart.

Would she not defend herself?

Jiang Xiuyuan thought, if only Jiang Lingyao would act as before, coaxing him and sharing her grievances, he would rather see Song Lian’er wronged than let her suffer injustice this time.

Even if Jiang Lingyao owed Song Lian’er much, this time he would not let her endure any more grievances.

“Big brother, it really hurts.”

Jiang Lingyao remained silent. Song Lian’er urged plaintively. Feeling a growing irritation beneath Jiang Lingyao’s indifferent gaze, Jiang Xiuyuan’s voice turned cold: “Jiang Lingyao, do you have anything to say?”

Seeing his furrowed brow, Jiang Lingyao sighed inwardly. Would he believe her?

Of course not.

Whether she spoke or not made no difference. Given past lessons, if she dared to talk back or defend herself, the punishment would surely be harsher.

Her heart pricked sharply. She shook her head, saying nothing.

Jiang Xiuyuan slammed the table suddenly, a swarm of restless insects gnawing at his chest, fueling his growing anger.

What did that expression on Jiang Lingyao’s face mean? Was she still defying him?

But how was he at fault? She already owed Lian’er much; to fuss over so little was narrow-minded and unworthy of the Mingzhu of the Gong Residence!

“Jiang Lingyao, you are spiteful, stealing Lian’er’s soup and causing her injury.” His voice rose with anger as he lifted his hand. “From today, you are confined to your room for a month. You shall not step outside!”

Instinctively, Jiang Lingyao dodged his palm, but in her haste, a sharp tug on her knee caused a sudden jolt of pain. Her body weakened and she began to fall backward.

“Bang—”

The bowl of soup slipped from her hand, shattering on the floor, porcelain fragments scattering everywhere. If she fell, she would surely land on the shards, adding new wounds.

Suppressing a scream, she desperately reached out to steady herself but, to her surprise, suddenly found herself falling into an embrace suffused with the scent of cold sandalwood.

The fragrance was too familiar. She froze. The person behind her remained still, holding her close.

It was Pei Xingzhi.

“Brother Pei!”

Song Lian’er exclaimed, barely concealing a sharp glint in her eyes. “Sister, get up quickly! What kind of behavior is this to be pulling and tugging around in public?”

Jiang Lingyao seemed to awaken abruptly, steadying herself and bowing respectfully. “Thank you, Prince Pei.”

Pei Xingzhi’s gaze darkened as it settled on her. The warmth he had just felt turned to regret. He restrained the impulse to hold Jiang Lingyao tighter, but before he could think further, he heard her distant, polite “Prince Pei,” and the expression in his eyes instantly turned cold.

“Sister! Brother Pei is no ordinary man. He hates others touching him. You should apologize to him.”

Pei Xingzhi’s expression grew even colder. “No need.”

Jiang Xiuyuan looked at the broken soup bowl on the floor, an unrecognized irritation stirring within him. “Jiang Lingyao, don’t forget how much you owe Lian’er!”

Jiang Lingyao raised her eyes and glanced at the anger etched on Jiang Xiuyuan’s face, a bitter smile curling in her heart.

Perhaps Song Lian’er was his true sister. In just a few words, he was willing to ignore her twisting the truth and accuse her, forgetting all their shared memories and only recalling her debts to Song Lian’er.

Jiang Lingyao thought she might cry, but her heart had been hardened into stone by the torments of the past year, no longer capable of stirring.

Jiang Xiuyuan no longer recognized the soup she brewed, nor did he acknowledge her as his sister.

She composed her expression, nodded, and said, “I understand. If there is nothing else, I will take my leave.”

Pei Xingzhi lifted his eyes, coincidentally meeting Jiang Lingyao’s calm gaze, so different from before, causing a subtle stir within him, an inexplicable displeasure.

“Wait.”

He called after Jiang Lingyao, his eyes complicated.