When Yan Huan left the principal’s office, there was no sign of ow-chan. It had vanished sowhere, perhaps to avoid being seen.
Inside the office, Ye Lan was still talking with Principal Hers, the conversation revolving around Yan Huan’s supposed sister and her upcoming enrollnt.
Standing by the door, Yan Huan sent a quick ssage to his evening workplace to request leave. The reply was curt:
“Absence will count as no-show, 200 deducted.”
A few minutes later, another ssage arrived:
“Just realized you’ve never taken leave before. Fine, this ti’s forgiven. Don’t make it a habit.”
Yan Huan smiled wryly and sent back a "Thanks" emoji. Just then, Ye Lan erged from the office. He locked his phone screen and looked up.
“Let’s go, Little Huan... Which way down? Your school’s layout is so confusing; I keep getting lost.”
“This way, Aunt Ye.”
As they walked down, the once-bustling Yuanyue campus was now eerily quiet. The students, lured by the promise of the weekend, had boarded the school buses and disappeared. It felt as though only Yan Huan and Ye Lan were left in the entire school.
They chatted idly as they reached the school gate.
Parked on the asphalt road amidst the maple trees was a sleek black electric car, discreet yet clearly expensive. Standing beside it was a woman in a black suit, likely of Dragon Nation origin.
“Madam Ye.”
“Take us ho.”
“Understood.”
Ye Lan ushered Yan Huan into the car. Once seated, it glided forward in near silence.
Yan Huan curiously surveyed the spacious interior. Ye Lan bent down and opened a small refrigerated compartnt beneath the backseat air vent.
Inside, it was packed with yellow cans of banana milk.
Smiling, Ye Lan handed a can, complete with a straw, to Yan Huan as if offering a prized treasure.
“Here, Little Huan, have this.”
“Thank you, Aunt Ye.”
“Don’t ntion it, just drink.”
Eagerly, she grabbed another can for herself, inserted the straw, and sipped with both hands like a squirrel savoring its stash.
“Mmm...”
The satisfied hum she let out suggested the banana milk was a real treat.
Encouraged, Yan Huan took a sip. It was a lightly sweetened milk drink with a rich banana flavor—not too sweet, just right.
As they drank, Ye Lan began chatting again,
“Speaking of your sister... back in Dragon Nation, I was always busy with work and couldn’t spend much ti with her. A nanny raised her, which might explain why she’s so reserved. She doesn’t like socializing and has no friends her age.
“Now that we’ve moved so far from ho, I worry about her adjusting. Even though there are many Dragon Nation folks here in the Mariti Gate, it’s not where she grew up.”
Yan Huan glanced at her, sipping his milk. “What about Uncle? Is he busy too?”
At the ntion of her ex-husband, Ye Lan’s expression shifted to a polite but strained smile—a mix of discomfort and distaste.
Yan Huan imdiately realized his mistake and apologized,
“Sorry, Aunt Ye.”
“It’s alright... We separated when your sister was very young. He’s no longer involved in our lives.”
She dismissed the topic with a sip of her milk, quickly changing the subject.
“The principal ntioned you seem to have many friends at school. He said any student he asked could contact you.”
“That’s true. Even if they’re not my close friends, I’m in several large school chat groups. It’s easy to find .”
“That’s because you’re the student council president! You must be popular.”
Ye Lan rested her chin in her hands, smiling warmly as she looked at Yan Huan.
“I don’t expect your sister to be as well-liked as you, but I do hope she learns to interact with people. She spends all her ti alone in her room, playing with dolls...”
“Dolls?”
“Yes, Barbies, action figures... I don’t really understand them. But she loves them. Strange, isn’t it?”
“...”
Yan Huan refrained from comnting on personal hobbies—a habit he’d picked up from Vice President Sakura.
“Anyway, you’ll et her soon. I hope you’ll be patient with her, Little Huan. She hasn’t had a peer to talk to in ages. If she does anything wrong, let
apologize in advance.”
“You’re too kind, Aunt Ye. I’d be happy to help.”
Yan Huan’s polite smile accompanied his words. Despite the ongoing conversation, his banana milk was quickly drained, leaving Ye Lan blinking in surprise at how little of hers was gone.
The remainder of the ride was filled with light chatter. Yan Huan even added Ye Lan on Plane, noticing her profile picture was—unsurprisingly—a can of banana milk.
Half an hour later, they arrived at a gated neighborhood. The houses, each with its own garden, were well-maintained, though not uniformly arranged.
Their car stopped in front of a stately mansion at the end of a well-positioned lot. The area was quiet yet conveniently close to the neighborhood’s anities, making it more desirable than the isolated hos at the outskirts.
“We’re here, Little Huan. Aunt Chen has prepared dinner—traditional Dragon Nation dishes.”
The car stopped outside the mansion, and the suited woman from earlier exchanged a few words with Ye Lan before driving off.
Taking Yan Huan by the wrist, Ye Lan enthusiastically led him inside.
The mansion’s interior was expansive, with a vaulted ceiling in the living room that created a sense of grandeur. Bright lighting gave it a cozy, Eastern touch, making Yan Huan feel like he’d stepped into a palace.
“Aunt Chen, we’re back!”
“Ah, Miss Ye! Was there traffic? You’re a bit later than Miss Shiyu ntioned... Shiyu, your mom’s ho!”
A voice ca from the side, likely the kitchen. Soon after, a woman in an apron erged—a middle-aged lady with curly hair and a kind smile.
“Little Huan, this is Aunt Chen. She’s from Dragon Nation and knew your parents. No need to be shy; we’re all family here.”
“Hello, Aunt Chen.”
“My, how ti flies. You’ve grown into such a handso young man. Wonderful, wonderful.”
As Ye Lan and Aunt Chen exchanged pleasantries, a faint floral fragrance reached Yan Huan’s nose. He looked up to see a girl standing midway down the spiral staircase.
She wore a black chiffon dress that contrasted starkly with her snow-white skin. Her legs, clad in thick black socks, ended in dark gray slippers. Her long black hair, unadorned, cascaded to her waist.
Her face, frad by slightly narrow eyes and long lashes, was stunningly beautiful but devoid of emotion. Her deep black pupils held an icy sharpness.
She stood tall, only slightly shorter than Yan Huan’s 184 cm, with a well-proportioned figure. From beneath her white cuffs, her slender yet firm forearms were visible.
In one hand, she held a long pair of scissors, as if she’d just been using them.
Yan Huan blinked, eting her gaze. Neither looked away.
Breaking the silence, he displayed a sunny, polite smile and greeted her first.
“Sister.”
At the sound of that word, her eyes flickered, a subtle reaction like a gong struck softly.
Ye Lan turned, noticing her daughter on the stairs.
“Ah, Shiyu! You’re here but didn’t say hello? Let
introduce you. This is Yan Huan, the son of my old friend. He’s a year younger than you—your little brother. Yan Huan, this is Shiyu. You can call her Shiyu-jie or sister.”
Still staring at Yan Huan, Ye Shiyu remained silent. Her unblinking gaze left an eerie impression.
Only when Ye Lan puckered her lips, preparing to scold her for impoliteness, did Ye Shiyu slowly respond in a chanical tone,
“Hello, I’m Ye Shiyu.”
As Ye Lan had warned, her daughter’s behavior was peculiar, fueling Yan Huan’s growing unease.
Sensing the awkwardness, Aunt Chen quickly interjected,
“Since Little Huan is here, let’s eat! I’ve prepared traditional dishes from Dragon Nation. I hope you like them.”
“I’m not picky, Aunt Chen.”
“Great! Please have a seat. I’ll bring everything out.”
Nodding with a smile, Ye Lan turned to Ye Shiyu.
“Shiyu, put your things back in your room and co down for dinner.”
Ye Shiyu lingered, her cold gaze fixed on Yan Huan’s sunny smile. At last, she nodded, carrying her scissors back upstairs.
Yan Huan followed Ye Lan to the dining table, but his unease lingered.
Upstairs, Ye Shiyu entered her room—a space packed with dolls of all kinds. So were realistic action figures, others stylized ani collectibles, and even life-sized gothic dolls. Each wore intricately designed outfits, with a single na stitched discreetly on the fabric: Ye Shiyu.
Placing her scissors on the table, next to so unfinished fabric, Ye Shiyu picked up her phone. The screen displayed an unfinished chat with her mother:
“Darling, I’m bringing Yan Huan ho tonight. I told Aunt Chen to prepare sothing nice.”
“Okay.”
“He’s lived alone for so long in the Mariti Gate. I’m thinking of letting him stay in the guest room downstairs. What do you think?”
No reply.
Closing the chat, her wallpaper—a lavishly dressed doll—ca into view.
Yet, among the ticulously organized folders on her phone, one app stood out: a purple heart icon with no na, hovering like a bug.
She stared at the app in silence until Ye Lan’s voice called from downstairs.
“Shiyu, dinner’s ready! Are you coming?”
After a brief pause, Ye Shiyu seed to make a decision. Locking her phone, she slipped it into her pocket and left the room.
“I’m coming, Mom.”
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