08

"Just having dinner," Zhang Qinghe replied, but her eyes suddenly caught sight of Zai Ye and Qian's shoes at the door, and her heart skipped a beat.

Could Qian's shoes be seen?

Even if Qian's shoes were hidden, there was no way to explain away Zai Ye's.

She quickly stepped forward and grabbed her brother's suitcase, using it as a shield to discreetly nudge Zai Ye's shoes backward, kicking them under the shoe cabinet.

"You must be tired, let me carry your suitcase. Come on in."

Zhang Xihuan smiled warmly at his sister’s gesture and walked in with his laptop bag.

"I'm not tired. I got some rest on the plane."

He took off his shoes and paused, frowning slightly. "Where are my slippers?"

Just after successfully hiding the other man’s shoes, Zhang Qinghe cursed inwardly. Her brother’s slippers were currently on Zai Ye’s feet.

There were only the two of them in the house, and they rarely had visitors. There were only three pairs of slippers in the cabinet.

"I washed your slippers and left them on the balcony. I think the wind blew them away," Zhang Qinghe said calmly, pulling out a pair of winter cotton slippers. "Here, wear these for now."

Zhang Xihuan patted his sister’s head and put on the cotton slippers as he stepped inside. When he saw the half-eaten dumplings on the dining table, he frowned.

"You’re having dumplings for lunch? That’s not nutritious at all. It’s Sunday—you should cook something better at home, or at least go out to eat. Do you have enough money? I’ll transfer you some later. Don’t be too frugal."

Though Zhang Xihuan was a well-known young lawyer in the industry, in front of his sister, he didn’t have the cold, elite air of a professional—he was more like a nagging mom.

"I still have money. I woke up late this morning and didn’t feel like cooking, so I just had some dumplings—it’s convenient," Zhang Qinghe said, dragging the suitcase behind him.

"Look how much you left. They must not taste good. You’re still growing, and school is tiring enough. I’ll make you some soup later."

As he spoke, Zhang Xihuan opened the door to his room and placed his laptop bag and suitcase inside.

He traveled often and hadn’t been home for a month, but the room didn’t smell musty at all. The sheets were clean, fluffy, and clearly had been washed and aired out by his sister.

"You don’t have to, you must be tired from the flight. Why not take a nap first…" Zhang Qinghe offered.

But Zhang Xihuan, who had been both father and mother to her for years, had long developed the bad habit of making decisions for her. He ignored her protest completely.

"There’s probably no food left at home, right? Go to the market and buy some pork bones, ribs, and corn. Get some beef too. And whatever vegetables you want—just get what looks good."

Zhang Qinghe: "…"

She glanced toward her bedroom door.

Zhang Xihuan poured himself a glass of water, took a few sips, and looked at his unmoving sister. "Why aren’t you going? I’ll rest here for a bit."

With a worried expression and her brother’s wallet in hand, Zhang Qinghe finally left the house.

On the way to the market, her mind kept replaying the image of her brother opening her bedroom door, finding a male classmate inside, and then sitting on the couch waiting to interrogate her.

After she left, Zhang Xihuan changed out of his suit into loungewear, tied on an apron, and cleared the dumplings from the table into the kitchen.

As he passed his sister’s room, he glanced at the tightly shut door, his expression unreadable.

He washed the two dirty bowls in the sink, cleaned the pot, and took out the stockpot to start making bone broth.

Zhang Qinghe rushed back with the groceries as fast as she could. Inside, the only sound was her brother cleaning up. Her bedroom door was still closed.

It seemed the secret hadn’t been exposed.

Relieved, she carried the groceries into the kitchen and began washing vegetables with her brother.

Zhang Xihuan was chopping ribs, the heavy thud of the cleaver echoing off the cutting board.

Between chops, he chatted with her in a gentle tone, asking how school was going, whether she was facing any difficulties, and if anything interesting had happened lately.

Zhang Qinghe, as always, picked a few everyday things to share.

Then Zhang Xihuan suddenly asked, "The other day, when you called me out of the blue—was there something you wanted to talk about?"

Zhang Qinghe lowered her head, washing vegetables. "No, I just felt like calling you."

At the time, she thought she’d seen a ghost, which was why she hesitated before calling him. But he’d seemed busy, and in the end, she hadn’t said anything.

Now that she knew it probably wasn’t a ghost but her future daughter, there was no way she could tell him. He’d never believe it.

Zhang Xihuan didn’t press the issue and continued asking about her studies.

"You still go to Aunt Wang’s on weekends to tutor Xiao Lei? Maybe you should quit. Weekends are for resting—you shouldn’t overwork yourself."

"It’s not tiring. I go twice and rest once. Xiao Lei is easy to teach."

Much easier than a certain senior who couldn’t even read a question properly.

The siblings were ten years apart. When their father went bankrupt and committed suicide, and their mother died of illness, Zhang Xihuan was just nineteen and had just started college. Zhang Qinghe was still in elementary school.

The family was deep in debt, and relatives had all cut ties. Zhang Xihuan juggled school and raising his sister, while Zhang Qinghe had to grow up quickly. Their early years were tough, and only recently had things begun to improve.

With just the two of them at home, both knew how to cook, though Zhang Xihuan was especially skilled. Soon, the kitchen was filled with the rich aroma of home-cooked food.

As Zhang Qinghe sat down with a bowl of rice, savoring spicy beef, cumin ribs, pickled fish, and corn bone soup, her bedroom door quietly creaked open.

Qian slipped out, holding the doorknob like a cat squeezing through a crack. Zai Ye reached out to pull her back, but missed.

Zhang Qinghe froze mid-chew.

Zhang Xihuan seemed to sense something and turned his head, only to see that her bedroom door was slightly ajar.

"I forgot to close it. The wind blew it open," Zhang Qinghe said quickly.

Zhang Xihuan turned back and smiled, picking up another rib for her. "Eat more meat. You’ve gotten thinner, haven’t you?"

Zhang Qinghe tried her best not to look at Qian, afraid her brother would notice something was off. But Qian headed straight for the dining table and sat down right next to him.

"Smells so good. I want to eat Uncle’s ribs too," Qian said, eyes wide with longing. "Mom, can I have one?" Her little hand was already reaching for the plate.

Zhang Qinghe suddenly started coughing and shook her head vigorously.

Zhang Xihuan: "What’s wrong? Choked? Drink some soup."

Qian reluctantly pulled her hand back and pouted, pressing her cheek against the table.

Throughout the entire meal, Qian sat there watching. Zhang Qinghe was on edge the whole time, especially when she saw her reach out to touch the cartoon apron on her brother or tug at the apron strings.

Thankfully, her brother couldn’t see Qian. Nor could he hear her calling him “Uncle” so sweetly.

The only one suffering was her.

After dinner, Zhang Xihuan went back to his room. While cleaning up the dishes, Zhang Qinghe quietly slipped two pieces of cumin ribs to Qian, who was trailing behind her.

“Don’t scare my brother, okay?”

“I didn’t scare Uncle.”

“He can’t see you, so you can’t touch him, understand?”

“But Uncle really likes me.”

Zhang Qinghe gave up and whispered, “You can do magic—can you make Senior Zai Ye invisible so you two can sneak out?”

Qian gnawed on a rib. “I’m not allowed to make Daddy invisible.”

No way around it, then.

Zhang Qinghe walked to her brother’s door and saw him turning on his computer, getting ready to work.

“Hey, do you want to take a nap?”

Zhang Xihuan replied, “No need. I’ll sleep tonight. I’ve still got some work to do.”

“I’ll close the door for you then, so it’s quieter.”

“It’s fine, not noisy. Leave it open for ventilation.”

From his room, he had a clear view of Zhang Qinghe’s door. As long as he stayed put, Zai Ye wouldn’t be able to leave.

Zhang Qinghe boiled water and made tea, bringing her focused brother a big cup.

If he drank enough water, he’d have to use the bathroom eventually, right?

But the whole afternoon passed, and he didn’t move an inch—didn’t even go to the bathroom.

Just as the sky began to darken, Zhang Xihuan finally shut his laptop.

“Lunch was late today. Let’s eat dinner a bit later. Are you hungry, Hehe?”

“No.” Zhang Qinghe anxiously finished writing five exam papers.

“Then go buy some fruit. We’ll have a little snack first.”

Helpless, Zhang Qinghe was sent out again.

A while later, Zhang Xihuan flexed his wrist and silently walked to his sister’s door, staring at it for a moment.

Qian followed behind him, resting her face in her hands and whispering against the door, “Oh no, Daddy, Uncle’s about to find you!”

Inside the room, Zai Ye, who had been sitting on the floor by the bed playing games, moved like lightning—he grabbed his backpack, opened the window, and ducked out.

As the doorknob turned, Zhang Xihuan suddenly flung the door open—only to find an empty room and the wide-open window.

He let out a cold snort.

They lived on the third floor.

Zhang Qinghe, who had just bought some fruit and was hurrying back, arrived just in time to see Zai Ye climbing out of the window, backpack slung over one shoulder, standing on the narrow ledge outside.

Zai Ye saw her too, pointed toward the room, then turned and stepped onto the second-floor air conditioner unit.

Zhang Qinghe: “!”

“Hey!”

Don’t!

But Zai Ye had already grabbed the second-floor railing and swung himself down to the first floor, landing smoothly and stylishly.

Still wearing indoor slippers.

Zhang Qinghe exhaled. She wasn’t scared by her brother—but this guy scared the life out of her.

Was he insane? Even if her brother found out, was it really necessary to jump out a third-story window?

Zai Ye looked completely unfazed as he said to her, “Qian’s still up there. Sneak her out, and let’s go.”

You couldn’t tell at all that he’d broken into a cold sweat from her brother’s surprise attack.

Zhang Qinghe rushed home with the fruit, then made up an excuse about forgetting her phone at the fruit stand and dashed out again.

Zhang Xihuan walked to the stairwell window and saw his sister hurrying downstairs. A moment later, a tall young man stepped out from the shade of the trees, greeted her, and walked off.

The old lady downstairs and Uncle Li from the market had told him his sister brought a boyfriend home. He hadn’t believed it.

Turns out it was true.

His little sister was old enough to date now.

Kids these days sure are bold.

Author’s note:

Don’t try this at home! It’s dangerous!