"Are we going to the ’Pure Painting’ exhibition again this week?"
"Oh." Qinglan’s striking black-and-white eyes showed slight surprise. "Senior Brother, you’ve been there too?"
Few people knew she frequented ’Pure Painting.’
Seeing her gaze, Chen Juanzhi’s face burned slightly as he feigned composure, looking ahead. "It’s a well-known gallery in Beijing. The paintings there are rather unique. Last ti I went, I saw you, but you were so engrossed in the art that I couldn’t bring myself to disturb your enjoynt."
"That gallery is owned by soone I know." Qinglan’s lips involuntarily curved, her voice growing softer.
Before Chen Juanzhi could respond, a girl in red appeared before them, her laughter bright and clear. "Sis, Senior Brother Chen." Jiang Qingduo was looking at Jiang Qinglan, but the corner of her eye subtly lingered on Chen Juanzhi.
"Junior Sister Jiang," Chen Juanzhi greeted politely.
Qingduo replied with a hum and turned to Qinglan. "Sis, Pure gifted a yacht. This weekend, I’m taking it out for a spin. Why don’t you and Senior Brother Chen co along?"
Watching the sisters interact warmly, Chen Juanzhi excused himself politely, "We have a club field activity this weekend, so I might have to decline Junior Sister’s kind offer. Please go ahead and chat; I’ll take my leave."
Qinglan’s heart lingered on Qingduo’s earlier words as she lightly furrowed her brows. "His na is Zhao Chun, not Pure."
Qingduo’s gaze returned from where Chen Juanzhi had left. "Only you call him Zhao Chun; he’s our uncle. He suggested I bring you along this weekend, too. I want to talk to you." She waved nonchalantly.
The night sea was deep and tranquil, bathed in the moonlight’s gentle glow, which enveloped the two young girls standing at the bow.
"For all these years, Pure has been surrounded by won who are nothing more than fleeting amusents. Last ti I accompanied him to the company, people even thought I was his girlfriend." Qingduo blinked her lively eyes. "That’s hilarious. They have no idea he’s my uncle."
"It’s not funny at all," Qinglan replied, eyes fixed on the horizon, a trace of jealousy in her tone.
"Actually, I’ve wanted to say this for a while—you like Zhao Chun, don’t you?" Qingduo glanced at her, carelessly curling her lips. "Knowing he loves art, you studied art; knowing he adores music, you took up piano. You visit his gallery every week to see the exhibitions. Sis."
Qingduo swirled her glass of wine, the red liquid sloshing inside. "Privately, we always call each other by na; only outwardly do I call you sis. Today, I’m calling you that because I want to make it clear—there’s no possibility between you and him. Just like he always tells , my acting has no chance. He’s our uncle. If he finds out, it’ll only make things awkward. Not to ntion Mom, Dad, and our brother won’t approve—Zhao Chun himself certainly wouldn’t agree."
"We’re sisters. I understand what you’re thinking," Qingduo said confidently.
"Do you?" Qinglan returned her gaze, speaking slowly. "Qingduo, I understand what you’re thinking too."
"The wind’s picking up..."
She closed her eyes, embracing the cool sea breeze. As the wind brushed against her face, she felt Qingduo’s eyes on her—not in the mischievous way of old. Qingduo had been a troublemaker as a child, often dragging her into mischief—that had been her twisted sense of fun. But Qinglan didn’t want to open her eyes; she simply let the night settle over her.
Like the tide, the wind surged—slowly at first, then faster, from a gentle whisper to an urgent howl.
It was a subtle, delicate sound, as though carried by the wind itself—a flowing noise, like the murmuring of water, singing a soft tune, hush... hush...
The vast ocean seed to be brewing so clandestine sche, readying itself to unleash its tumultuous might.
"Qinglan!" Qingduo’s voice broke with alarm.
Qinglan’s eyes snapped open. The boat rocked violently, waves clawing upward like they had a vendetta.
In that instant, panic spread deeply from within—such was the power of nature.
The force of the sea twisted fiercely, pulling the sisters below its depths. Qinglan instinctively grasped Qingduo’s hand tightly, shielding her as she moved ahead. Her body struck sharply, and blood instantly clouded her vision. Amid the spreading crimson currents, Qingduo saw Qinglan’s figure swept farther and farther away by the ocean’s force...
Another powerful surge of water ca crashing down, leaving Qingduo choking on the suffocating sense of calamity.
As darkness consud everything, the last image in her eyes was of long, seaweed-like hair wildly thrashing about.
Sister!
In the desolate wasteland of what felt like an apocalypse, a villa stood among the trees, the air tainted with the stench of decay, flies buzzing incessantly.
On a lavishly adorned bed lay a young woman. Her delicate face was pale; her garnts spoke of fragility, and upon the immaculate sheets lay...
"Zhao Chun. Qingduo." Jiang Qinglan slowly opened her eyes, struggling to rise from the bed.
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