[Lin Feng's Room — September 16, 3:55 AM]
The room lay wrapped in darkness.
The climate system hummed somewhere in the wall. Past the curtain the sky sat in its bluish-purple, the twilight color that never fully left, its glow settling faint across the ceiling.
Lin Weiwei was asleep on his chest.
She had stayed there since she had fallen asleep.
Her pajama top had betrayed her completely. The fabric hung uselessly from one elbow, bunched and twisted, leaving everything above her waist exposed to the cool air. She'd kicked the blanket down in her sleep, and now it pooled somewhere around their knees.
Lin Feng's lip had swollen overnight, the wound where she'd bitten him crusted with dried blood.
But neither of them stirred.
Lin Feng drifted in that space between sleep and waking. His arm tightened around her instinctively, pulling her closer until bare skin met bare skin. She made a small sound in her sleep and pressed back against him.
Soft. Warm. Smells like vanilla.
A dull throb pulsed through his lip, but he didn't care. It was nice — the warmth of her body, the rhythm of their shared breathing, her hair against his chin.
I could stay like this forever.
The faint hum of the mansion's climate system was the only sound. Everything else had gone still, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Then—
It happened—
-----------------------------
BOOM.
The door didn't open.
It exploded.
Wood fragments peppered the far wall like shrapnel as the entire structure flew inward with the kind of force that belonged on a battlefield, not a bedroom.
Lin Feng instinctively moved. He rolled, took Lin Weiwei with the sweep of his arm and put her behind him. His bare feet stood on top of the bed and he dropped into a crouch, scanning for weapons, exits, cover—
His hand closed on a phone charger.
A phone charger?
He was shirtless, barefoot, crouched in combat stance on top of the bed with a USB cable dangling from his fist. Behind him, Lin Weiwei was making confused sounds, her pajama top hanging off one elbow and nothing else protecting her modesty.
This is not how I die.
Four maids stood in the ruined doorway.
Their expressions didn't flicker — not at the half-naked young miss, not at the young master wielding a USB cable like a garrote. One of them was still even holding the battering ram.
Why do our maids have a battering ram?
WHY DO OUR MAIDS KNOW HOW TO USE A BATTERING RAM?
The lead maid gave a crisp nod — mission complete. One of them hit the lights on the way out, flooding the room white. Then all four of them turned and withdrew with the same military precision they'd used to break the door down.
"Wha— what— the door, why is the door, where is the door—"
Lin Weiwei had grabbed a pillow, clutching it against herself like a shield, face cycling through confusion and mortification.
He didn't have an answer.
Silence settled over the ruined doorway.
Then—
Click. Click. Click.
The sound of heels on hardwood. Rapid — it was too fast for walking.
The clicks grew louder, faster — and then he heard it. Faint but unmistakable.
Giggling.
His stomach dropped.
Please let it be assassins. I will take literally any threat over—
A flash of silver appeared in the doorway.
—her.
-----------------------------
A woman emerged from the darkness of the hallway.
Silver hair cascaded past her shoulders like liquid mercury, catching the faint light and shimmering with every stride.
Even at 4 AM, she looked like she'd stepped off a magazine cover — perfectly tailored business suit, not a strand out of place, face flawless enough to make boardrooms fall silent mid-sentence.
Lin Qingwan. The eldest daughter of the Lin family. Twenty-three. President of the Lin Corporation. De facto leader of the household since their father's decline.
And right now, she was grinning like a teenager who'd just discovered the best gossip of the century.
No. No no no no no—
She reached the bed before he could open his mouth.
YANK.
The blanket slid off the bed and onto the floor.
CLICK.
A white flash blazed across the room.
CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.
What she held was not a phone.
It was a professional DSLR. Full-frame sensor. The kind photojournalists used to capture war zones and wildlife documentaries.
She brought a professional camera. She PREPARED for this.
CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.
The shutter fired in rapid succession, the sound crisp and mechanical, capturing everything in high-definition clarity.
Lin Feng threw up a hand to block it, but she'd already gotten at least four angles — and knowing her, probably bracketed exposures for optimal lighting.
"Let me see, let me see~"
She wasn't even looking at them anymore. Her attention had shifted to the bed itself, silver hair swinging as she leaned over the mattress like a forensic investigator. The camera dangled against her chest while she lifted sheet corners, checked spots, examined fabric with surgical precision.
Is she… looking for something?
Lin Qingwan's eyes cataloged every damning detail. His bare chest. Weiwei's state of undress. His swollen, bloody lip. Their positioning.
Everything exposed. In high resolution.
"Hmm, hmm, hmm~"
That smile never wavered. Warm on the surface, unreadable underneath.
She lifted another corner. Tilted her head. Still smiling.
What is she looking for?
-----------------------------
Lin Feng's brain was still trying to run threat assessments on a situation that had no tactical solution.
Qingwan. Of course it's her — and with a camera.
And she's checking the sheets. What does she expect to— oh.
OH.
She's looking for blood. She thinks we—
He glanced at the pristine white sheets, and felt his face heat for the first time since the door exploded.
None of that had prepared him for this.
He stood frozen, watching Lin Qingwan examine his sheets like a crime scene.
Behind him, Lin Weiwei had gone rigid the moment she saw Lin Qingwan — the one person who could make her shrink.
"BIG SISTER!?"
Lin Qingwan straightened as she looked at her stepsister. Then she looked at the clean sheets, then at the two of them — Lin Weiwei half-bare behind her pillow, his lip split and crusted — then back at the sheets.
She looked back and forth as her smile stayed on her lips, her expression unreadable like a smiling buddha.
"Nothing? You two just slept?"
She gestured at the scene with elegance. "Look at this situation. Look at her. And you're telling me you just... slept?"
Then her eyes caught something.
She reached out, delicate fingers catching Lin Feng's chin and tilting his face toward the light.
"Wait. Little Brother..."
She examined the wound closely — the swollen lip, the dried blood, the obvious teeth marks.
"Did she BITE you?!"
Silence.
Lin Qingwan's gaze traced a slow triangle — his lip, the sheets, Lin Weiwei's exposed state — her smile widened like a cat who'd cornered something interesting.
"Now this..." She leaned back, crossing her arms beneath the camera. "This I didn't expect."
Her eyes fixed on Lin Feng with open curiosity.
"She bit you hard enough to draw blood. She's practically naked. And you're telling me nothing happened?" A delicate eyebrow rose. "Either you have remarkable self-control, Little Brother... or a remarkable problem."
-----------------------------
Lin Qingwan released his chin and stepped back, crossing her arms beneath the camera.
"Little Brother, do you have ED or something?"
Lin Feng blinked. "What?"
"Erectile dysfunction?" She said it like she was discussing quarterly reports. "Performance issues. The inability to—"
"I know what ED means."
"Then explain this to me." Lin Qingwan gestured expansively at the scene. "Weiwei's gorgeous. She literally drew blood. She was clearly willing. And you still didn't—?"
Her smile turned teasing.
"Are you even a man?"
Lin Weiwei stayed silent.
Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, but something else flickered across her face. Her lips pressed together, her gaze dropped to the sheets, and her fingers tightened on the pillow.
Lin Feng caught it. Their eyes met briefly — just a flicker, barely a second — but it was enough.
Then, Lin Weiwei's shoulders relaxed a fraction. The corner of her mouth twitched.
Lin Qingwan's gaze sharpened. Her smile didn't change, but her eyes flicked between them like she was watching a tennis match she hadn't been invited to.
"Oh?" She drew the word out slowly. "What was that?"
Her eyes glittered.
"Tell me. Tell me tell me tell me~"
Neither of them spoke.
"Keeping secrets from Big Sister?" Her smile turned sweet. "I control your allowances, you know."
-----------------------------
The teasing continued for another moment, then Lin Qingwan's voice shifted. Still light, but with genuine curiosity underneath.
She sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her long legs elegantly.
"Seriously though. Why didn't you?"
Lin Feng met her gaze, calm and direct.
"Because I wanted her to wake up knowing I valued her confession, not regretting what we did."
Lin Qingwan's eyebrow rose slightly.
"Last night was about accepting her feelings." Lin Feng paused, choosing his words carefully. The weight of Lin Qingwan's attention pressed against him, but he held steady. "It was about making sure she understood that I see her. That I had forgiven her."
He glanced at Lin Weiwei.
"She's spent six years hating herself for something she did as a child. She came in here tonight and finally let go of it."
"Then she offered me the rest of her. Because she thought she owed it — that it was the only way for her to atone."
His voice stayed level. Behind Lin Qingwan, behind the pillow, Lin Weiwei had gone still in a different way than before.
"I wasn't going to take her like that."
The mansion was dead silent around them. No servants stirring, no footsteps in distant hallways. Just the three of them in this too-bright room with its ruined door and pristine sheets.
"Because if I'd taken what she offered..." He shook his head slowly. "She would have woken up thinking she was less than human. And she would have accepted it."
"I'm not going to treat her like that."
Lin Qingwan hadn't moved, but something in her eyes had shifted.
"One night can wait." Lin Feng held her gaze without flinching. "A lifetime together is more important. I'd rather she wake up knowing I chose her — not what she could give me."
Lin Qingwan studied him for a long moment. That teasing smile faded into something softer, almost like respect.
"...Okay." She nodded slowly. "I'll take that answer."
Beside him, Lin Weiwei had gone very still. Her hand pressed against her chest, fingers clutching the fabric over her heart.
-----------------------------
Lin Qingwan settled more comfortably on the bed's edge.
"Honestly? This eases my mind considerably."
Lin Qingwan didn't elaborate any further, but her shoulders loosened slightly — the first real relaxation he'd seen from her since she burst through the door.
Whatever she'd been worried about, this wasn't it.
"Father tried, you know." Her voice turned thoughtful. "Despite everything."
Lin Feng's attention sharpened. "Tried what?"
"Marriage proposals." Her smile gained an edge. "He approached the three other major families. Negotiating with enemies. Trying to secure alliances through marriage."
She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, the movement elegant and practiced.
"They all refused. Their daughters reacted... badly."
"How badly?"
"Physically ill. Screaming. Threatening to run away from home." Her brow furrowed slightly. "I still don't understand it. Business-wise, it made perfect sense. Our resources combined with any of theirs would have created enormous synergy."
She shook her head.
"It was like they hated you on instinct. For no reason anyone could identify."
Lin Feng kept his expression neutral.
Of course they refused. Of course they 'hated me on instinct'.
Those daughters are Long Tian's future conquests. They were never going to accept the villain.
And it gets worse. Their mothers will fall for him too. Their sisters. Their aunts. Every woman in those families will end up in his bed eventually.
Father was negotiating with future in-laws of the protagonist. He never had a chance.
"Of course, Father has other concerns now." Lin Qingwan's tone turned dismissive. "Well… he's too busy trying to reclaim his chair to worry about your love life."
Lin Feng didn't miss the edge in her voice. The power struggle between his father and elder sister had been simmering for months now.
"I've been watching you closely, Weiwei."
Lin Weiwei's head came up.
"You turned a new leaf. I watched it happen." Lin Qingwan's voice softened, losing some of its teasing edge. "You've been trying to attend to my baby brother's every need."
"You even wore your guilt like a second skin."
"Who's your baby brother?" Lin Feng muttered.
Lin Qingwan turned to him, one elegant eyebrow raised.
"You are." Her smile sharpened. "I've been wiping your ass since you were born, Little Brother. I changed your diapers. I bathed you. I have photographs."
She patted the camera hanging from her neck.
"Would you like to see them, Weiwei?"
Lin Weiwei looked at him, then at their elder sister, as if she wanted to say yes.
Lin Feng said nothing.
"Oh. Maybe that girl who stalks you every day wants access to those pictures!" Her eyes glittered. "Or maybe, that little culinary student who keeps coming to the estate for…" She let the pause hang, her eyes half-lidding. "'Cooking lessons'."
Lin Feng's eyes cut to his elder sister.
Stalking me? Cooking lessons?
Does she mean Xiao Yue and Zhang Tingting?
Lin Feng looked away. "...I withdraw the question."
"Smart boy."
The teasing glint faded from Lin Qingwan's eyes as she turned back to Lin Weiwei. The younger woman's fingers were still twisted in the hem of her pajama top, her gaze fixed on the sheets in front of her.
"I forgive the bullying. The five years of it. I can, because you were a child and the stupid adults in this house treated my brother badly and called your actions good."
Lin Weiwei's throat tightened, but she didn't shrink from it.
"I can even forgive you for what you did to my mother's ancestral plaque."
Lin Weiwei's gaze lowered the moment the ancestral plaque was mentioned. Her breath caught — just once, quick, swallowed before anyone could hear it.
A grey stone in the family plot with the name Ye Wanqing cut into it. She was Lin Zhentian's first wife, Lin Qingwan's mother who died in childbirth.
She was still eight back then. She sprayed paint on the ancestral plaque, not even sparing the flowers and everything laid out before it.
Then when Lin Feng saw her, instead of pointing her out as the one who vandalized Ye Wanqing's ancestral plaque, he claimed it was he who did it. He received the full wrath of the family after that.
"I let him keep the blame. If I'd exposed an eight-year-old, your mother would have gone to war. And my brother would have been the one standing in the middle of it."
"So I protected him the only way that wouldn't cost him more. I canceled the arrangement. Quietly."
The words went through Lin Weiwei like something cold. Her mouth opened. But nothing came out.
"What I want to say is that, yes I forgive you. But I will never forget whatever happened in the past."
"And if you return to whoever you were back then…"
"If you dare hurt my little brother…"
"She won't come back." Lin Weiwei met her gaze, her fists clenched. Her body was trembling, but when she spoke, her voice came out steady. "I promise."
Lin Qingwan studied her for a long moment. Those sharp eyes searching for doubt, for hesitation, for any trace of the vicious child she'd once been.
Whatever she found, it seemed to satisfy her.
She nodded. Just once.
"Good."
-----------------------------
Lin Qingwan finally stood up, smoothed the front of her suit, and the room's weight lifted a notch when she did.
"You're not the only one, though." Lighter now, back in her teasing voice. "There's that girl who always stays inside that café every morning. And let's not forget the other girl too, the one who Lin Feng spends a lot of time with."
Lin Weiwei's fingers tightened on the pillow. "I know."
"I know Zhang Tingting. She is quite a good match for him. My only complaint was that she seems to be a little unhinged."
Of course. She knew about her too. Lin Feng thought.
Then, Lin Qingwan tilted her head.
"But that girl who often stalks Lin Feng. I don't know much about her. Only that she seems to have a lot of money, something she shouldn't have. I had people look into her, but her background looks spotless. Too spotless even."
She looked at Lin Feng. "Who is she?"
"A classmate." He kept it flat. "Her name's Xiao Yue."
The surname Xiao was old — ancient — and it could mean anything. A lot of people out there had the surname Xiao. But the way Qingwan's eyes had flickered, the way her fingers had twitched against the camera...
Beside him, Lin Weiwei's fingers dug into the pillow she was clutching. Her eyes darted from Qingwan's face to Lin Feng's and back again, her breath catching in her throat.
"Surname Xiao…" Lin Qingwan repeated, slow, turning it over. Her eyes went to the window a moment — and came back. "I see."
She didn't elaborate, and neither of them asked her to. The hum of the mansion's climate system filled the silence.
"And she is someone motivated enough to watch you for five years..."
"Yes."
"Someone even I couldn't dig up anything on..."
"Yes."
"She's obsessive, Little Brother." She let the word hang in the air between the three of them. "And I don't know what she's capable of."
Lin Qingwan studied Lin Feng.
"So, do you trust her?"
Lin Feng didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
Lin Qingwan held his gaze for a long moment, reading him, searching for deception.
"...Alright." She nodded slowly. "I'll trust your judgment. For now."
Her smile didn't reach her eyes.
"But I'm going to keep watching her."
Then she turned back again to Lin Weiwei.
"And I'm going to keep an eye on you too. If you want to keep my little brother, you better earn it. Every day."
Lin Weiwei's grip on the pillow loosened. Her shoulders straightened, and she lifted her chin to meet Lin Qingwan's eyes directly for the first time since the door had exploded inward.
"Big Sister Qingwan, don't worry, I will make sure my dear Big Brother Feng will be happy."
Lin Weiwei finally let the pillow drop. She reached over and wrapped both arms around Lin Feng's arm, pulling it against her chest, her eyes never leaving Lin Qingwan's. The motion took her pajama top with it, the last of the fabric sliding off.
"You better be, Weiwei." Lin Qingwan held the stare a moment longer — then something flickered across her face — reluctant, almost proud. "But I must say, I'm impressed. Very good! Very good!"
"From now on, I recognize you not only as my sister, but also as my sister-in-law."
Lin Weiwei's breath caught. Sister-in-law. She actually acknowledged me.
"Oh — and Aunt Wanrou is going to be thrilled." The teasing slid back into her voice.
Lin Feng looked up. "...My mother?"
"Who else? I visit her every month. I've been telling her good things about Weiwei for years." Lin Qingwan's smile turned warm as she slipped into an imitation. "Aunt Wanrou said: 'If that boy doesn't notice her soon, I gave birth to an idiot.'"
Lin Feng groaned.
Lin Weiwei went still. "Big Brother's mother... knows about me?"
"She likes you. She always has. Even back then, that's why you became my little brother's childbride." Lin Qingwan said it more gently, then tapped the camera at her chest. "And she's hearing all of this right now. Live." A pause, delighted. "Oops. Should I have led with that?"
Lin Feng's face drained of color.
Lin Weiwei made a sound like a dying animal.
"ELDER SISTER!"
Both of them, at once.
She laughed and turned for the ruined doorframe, silver hair swaying with each step. At the threshold she glanced back.
"Breakfast. Nine o'clock. Both of you, at the table. Not a minute later." Her smile gained an edge. "I'd hate to come back up here."
Then she looked at the door, or what was left of it.
"Though I suppose the door's already open."
And then she ran — the click of her heels and the giggling fading together down the dark hall.
-----------------------------
Finally, the room became quiet.
Lin Feng looked at the damage. The door hung off one hinge, splintered open to the dark hall. The overhead light blazed down on the rumpled sheets and the scattered pillows. Nobody had bothered to turn it off.
Beside him, Lin Weiwei stirred.
She'd come down off the fight all at once — her energy spent, her chin lowered, her half-naked body curled against his. Her pajama top was somewhere on the floor.
She didn't bother to find it.
"Big Brother."
"Mm."
"She's really sending all that to your mother."
"Definitely."
A pause. Then, smaller: "...I should make a good impression."
He didn't answer that. His hand found her hair and moved through it, slow, the way it had for hours before the door came apart.
"Big Brother."
"Mm."
"Kiss me." Her voice was already half under. "You owe me one. From earlier."
He looked down at her — her eyes shut, mouth set in a stubborn little line even mostly asleep.
He bent and kissed her forehead.
Her brow creased. "...Not there."
"Sleep, Weiwei."
A pause. Then, smaller, conceding: "...Fine. That one counts."
But she was smiling when she said it — small, real, the same one from before. She didn't seem to notice she was doing it.
His hand kept moving through her hair.
She was asleep inside of five minutes. The night, the morning, and the silver-haired storm between them had finally caught up with her.
He pulled the blanket up from the floor and put it over her shoulders, and she burrowed closer and didn't wake.
He should turn the light off.
He didn't, yet.
Past the ruined frame, past the curtains his sister hadn't touched, the sky held its bluish-purple. In a few hours, the sun would rise again, marking the start of his second day in this world.
So many things stayed on Lin Feng's mind. How much Lin Qingwan really knew about Xiao Yue. About Ye Wanrou. About the three girls, and more.
In the end, he reached up and killed the light.
The white went out, and the dark came back soft and blue — the glow off the building behind the mansion settling onto the ceiling.
Lin Feng finally let his eyes close.
Down the hall, a door he no longer owned stood open on the dark, and he lay under the blue light with a girl asleep against him, and let the last hours before morning go.
-----------------------------
[End of Chapter]