[Dining Room — 9:18 AM]
With Lin Zhentian gone, Jiang Mei was left alone with Lin Qingwan and her group. Soon she gathered the shattered remains of her composure. Tears glistened in her eyes — whether it was real or calculated, no one could say.
"Hao-er. We're leaving."
Lin Hao stood and straightened his uniform with careful precision.
He then took one last look at the scene. Lin Feng in his chair, Lin Weiwei sinking deeper into his lap, her hand on the plate as she settled her head on his chest.
He shook his head, his face twisted with disgust.
"Good luck, Brother." His voice dripped with condescension. "You'll need it."
Lin Feng met his eyes and said nothing.
He just looked at him with a quiet indifference — the kind reserved for someone who did not realize how small they were. The longer he looked, the more pity crept into his eyes.
You're only twelve, kid. You know nothing.
Just stay out of my way, and I'll let you live your little life in peace.
But Lin Feng said nothing. It was all in his head.
Yet Lin Hao's smirk faltered. Something in his gaze made his stomach twist, and he didn't know why.
Then, he quickly turned and followed his mother out — though his steps were quicker than before.
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Finally, silence settled over the dining room.
Only the three of them remained. Lin Qingwan at the far end of the table, her laughter finally subsided, her ever-present smile back in place.
Lin Feng still sat on his chair, with Lin Weiwei still on his lap.
Lin Qingwan finally set down her napkin and looked at Lin Weiwei.
"Okay, okay… Enough of the flirting. Don't make a scene anymore, Weiwei. I also don't want to see the dining table becoming like a whorehouse. And Little Brother, control your future wife properly."
Lin Weiwei lifted her head from Lin Feng's chest. Her cheeks were still flushed. She pulled her hand from the plate, straightened up on his lap, then slowly slid off and back into her own chair.
"And tomorrow." Lin Qingwan continued. "I want to meet this Xiao Yue. Arrange it."
Lin Weiwei's expression flickered. Her shoulders tensed up, her mouth pressed thin, her hands went still at the mere mention of her rival's name.
"And don't forget what I told you early this morning. Earn him. Every day."
Lin Weiwei met her gaze in a challenging manner.
"You don't need to remind me, Big Sister Qingwan."
Lin Qingwan looked at her silently for a moment, her smile still there, her expression as unreadable as ever.
And then she gave a single, approving nod.
After that, Lin Weiwei finally stood up, adjusted her sweater and murmured something about freshening up. She then disappeared towards the hall, leaving Lin Feng with Lin Qingwan.
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Once Lin Weiwei was gone, Lin Qingwan propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. Her other hand drummed the table softly, her manicured nails clicking against the wood.
Then her gaze landed on Lin Feng.
Meanwhile Lin Feng leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh of relief.
The dining room was quiet now. The September sun had moved across the tall windows. The light fell warmer on the mahogany, catching the abandoned dishes and the empty chairs on the other side.
Somewhere deep in the mansion, a clock chimed the quarter hour.
"That was quite a lot for one morning."
Lin Qingwan's voice had changed. The sharpness from the announcements was gone. The teasing was gone. What came out this time was softer.
The voice she used when she was either talking to him or his mother.
"Are you alright, Little Brother?"
Lin Feng turned his head toward her. She was still propping her chin on her hand, but the drumming had stopped. Her eyes were on him, looking at him not as the President of the Lin Group—
But simply as his Big Sister.
"I'm alright."
"Did you sleep at all last night?"
"Some."
"How much is 'some'?"
Lin Feng rubbed the back of his neck. "Two or three hours I think."
Lin Qingwan let out a slow breath through her nose. She straightened in her chair and looked up at the chandelier for a moment, as if she was trying very hard not to say something.
"I'll have the carpenters sent up today."
"It's okay, Big Sis, no need to rush it."
"But your door is in pieces, Little Brother."
"Yeah, I know."
She shook her head. Then she turned back to him and leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she looked at his mouth.
"And your lip. Does it hurt?"
Lin Feng touched it with the tip of his finger. The dull throb answered immediately.
"It's fine."
"It doesn't look fine." She tilted her head to get a better angle, frowning. "It looks terrible. She really got you."
"Yeah, Weiwei really bit me hard."
"Have you put anything on it?"
"No."
"Then I'm sending a doctor in."
"It's a split lip, Big Sis. Not a stab wound."
"You look like you got into a fight."
"I did." Lin Feng shrugged. "I lost."
Lin Qingwan's mouth twitched. She tried not to smile and then stopped trying.
"You lost to an eighteen-year-old girl."
"She had the element of surprise."
"Element of surprise… yeah, sure."
Lin Qingwan shook her head again. She was smiling now — the kind that reached her eyes.
She reached for the teapot in the center of the table, picked it up and checked its weight with her hand. It was still warm enough.
She then poured him a fresh cup, the stream of tea thin and steady, and set it in front of him.
Then she reached across the table, picked up the last steamed bun from the plate with her fingers, and placed it beside his cup.
"Eat. Drink. You've barely had anything."
"I already ate plenty, Big Sister. Weiwei even kept feeding me."
"She fed you one bun. In the most shameless way I've ever seen."
She then pushed the plate closer to him.
"Eat another one. Properly this time."
Lin Feng did not move.
Lin Qingwan raised an eyebrow.
"Or…" She paused as a mischievous smile appeared on her lips. "Do I need to sit on your lap and feed you myself?" She leaned in, tilted her head, and put on a high, sweet voice. "'Big Brother~ Open your mouth~'"
A shiver ran down Lin Feng's spine. His hand picked up the bun immediately.
"That's what I thought."
She watched him eat with her chin resting on her hand, her silver hair catching the light from the tall windows.
He chewed slowly, his jaw stiff from the swollen lip. She waited until he swallowed before she spoke again.
"About the engagement."
Her fingers found the table and tapped once. Twice. Then stopped.
"I should have told you first. Before I said it in front of everyone."
She looked down at her own hand on the mahogany.
"That was reckless of me. I made the decision without asking the one person it affects the most."
Lin Feng set his cup down.
"It's fine, Big Sis."
"No, it's not fine. It was your engagement. Your future. And I announced it like it's nothing at a breakfast table between a business report and Father losing his temper." She paused. "You deserved better than that, you know."
"It's alright, Big Sis… I would have said yes anyway."
Lin Qingwan looked at him. Her tapping stopped.
"You would have?"
"Yes."
She studied his face for a long moment, searching for something. Whether she found it or not, her mouth softened and she nodded once.
"Alright then."
She picked up her own cup and wrapped both hands around it, the porcelain small between her fingers. She did not drink.
She just held it there, the warmth passing into her palms.
"Do I need to put a leash on Weiwei? She was a little... too enthusiastic this morning."
Lin Feng took a sip of his tea.
"No."
"Are you sure about that?" She raised an eyebrow. "She fed you a bun in front of Father in the most inappropriate way. I mean… she's a little over the top today."
She paused for a moment. "Father already wasn't very happy with that. And I bet she is going to get worse, Little Brother. You know that."
"I know."
"And you still don't want me to talk to her."
"No."
"And you're going to handle her yourself."
"Yes."
Lin Qingwan's other eyebrow went up. For a moment, she just sat there, her mind considering the situation with Lin Weiwei.
Then she let it drop.
"Alright."
She took a small sip of tea and set the cup back down, her thumb tracing the rim slowly.
"What about your other women, then?"
Lin Feng's hand paused on his cup.
"Zhang Tingting? Su Qingxue?" Lin Qingwan said the names one after the other. "Now that you're moving on from Su Qingxue — and I'm not going to pretend I'm not relieved about that, by the way — should we stop supporting the Su family?"
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.
"We've been sending money and contracts their way for four years. On your behalf. Because you were chasing their daughter."
"You're not chasing her anymore. So. Do we cut them off?"
Lin Feng's hand slid off the cup and onto the table.
"Yes."
"Yes?"
"Yes. Cut them off."
Lin Qingwan looked at him for a moment, as if expecting something more — an explanation, a condition, a reason.
But none came.
"Alright." She nodded once. "I'll start pulling back the arrangements this week."
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After that, Lin Qingwan didn't ask him about Su Qingxue. Why he suddenly changed his mind — when the other day, Lin Feng thought she was everything that he ever wanted.
Once they got past her, Lin Qingwan uncrossed her arms and leaned forward on the table. The teasing crept back on her face. It came into the corners of her mouth first, then into her eyes.
"And Zhang Tingting?"
Lin Feng reached for his tea. He then picked it up — only to put it back down without drinking.
He looked at the steam rising from the cup. Then at the window. Then at the table.
Anywhere but at Lin Qingwan.
"...Let's talk about her another day."
"Another day?"
"Yes."
"My little brother cannot even give me a straight answer about Zhang Tingting." Lin Qingwan's smile widened slowly. "That is very telling, you know."
Lin Feng said nothing.
"Should I tell Aunt Wanrou you have three girls now instead of two?"
"Please don't tell Mom."
"Three whole girls, Little Brother." She lifted her hand and started counting on her fingers, one by one. "The stalker." One finger. "The fiancée." Two fingers. "And the culinary student who has been coming to the estate for 'cooking lessons'." Three fingers.
She held up all three and waved them at him.
"Aunt Wanrou is going to be very interested."
"Big Sis!"
"She's going to want to meet all three. In person. At the same table. With tea and snacks."
"Big Sis, please."
"And I—" She placed a hand over her chest, her face arranged into a picture of wounded innocence. "—I am going to have to sit there and pretend I know absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. About whatever has been going on between you and Zhang Tingting."
She picked up her cup and leaned closer to him, her silver eyes bright.
"Even though — and this is purely hypothetical, Little Brother — I might have known for quite some time now."
Lin Feng's hand tightened around his cup.
"Hypothetically."
"Purely hypothetical."
She watched him over the rim of her tea. Lin Feng did not confirm it. He did not deny it. He sat very still in his chair and drank his tea with the careful composure of a man trying very hard not to react.
She knows.
She definitely knows what the original Lin Feng had been doing with Zhang Tingting.
There is no hiding secrets when I have a Big Sister like her.
Lin Qingwan held his gaze for one more beat, her smile small and knowing. Then she let it go.
"Well, Little Brother, I don't actually mind how many women you collect." Her voice softened. "As long as you know what you're doing. And if you don't, well, I believe that you will either way."
She took a long sip of her tea.
Neither of them spoke for a while after that.
The dining room was still around them. The long mahogany table stretched out toward the empty chairs, the chandelier caught the sunlight overhead. It was the quietest the room had been all morning.
Lin Qingwan poured herself another cup and drank it slowly. Meanwhile, Lin Feng brushed the crumbs off his fingers.
The sun moved across the windows and the light shifted on the table, turning the wood from brown to gold.
Just a brother and a sister, sitting together after a hard morning.
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Then Lin Feng set his cup down.
"Big Sis."
"Mm?"
"I need to borrow a few men."
Lin Qingwan's cup paused halfway to her lips. She held it there for a moment, then slowly lowered it back to the saucer.
"Men?"
"A few. Not too many."
She set the cup down completely. Her fingers left the porcelain.
"For what?"
"For an operation."
The word sat between them on the mahogany.
The smile on Lin Qingwan's face didn't change. But her hands came together on the table, fingers lacing. She sat there looking at her little brother for a long moment.
The same little brother whose diapers she had changed. Whose cuts she had cleaned. Whose homework she had checked every night until he stopped needing her to. The same little brother whose door she had broken down at four in the morning.
The same little brother who had just used the word operation as if he had been using it his whole life.
"How many do you need?"
"A small team. Three or four should be enough."
"And you're not going to tell me what it's for."
"Not yet."
Lin Qingwan held his gaze. Her thumbs pressed together over her folded hands. She could feel the pressure building between them, nail against nail.
She could have pushed. She was the eldest daughter. She was the president. She had every right to demand an answer from her little brother who was sitting in a chair she had bought, eating food her money had paid for, in a house she was holding together with both hands.
"Alright. Take whoever or whatever you need. I'll give you twelve." She pointed a finger at him. "But if it gets to a point where the family needs to step in, you tell me first."
"I will."
"And nothing that gets you hurt."
"I know."
"I mean it, Lin Feng." Her voice lost all its teasing. "Nothing that gets YOU hurt."
Lin Qingwan reached over and placed her hand on his shoulder. Her fingers squeezed once through the fabric of his shirt. Then her hand stayed there for a moment longer than it needed to. She could even feel the warmth of his skin through the shirt.
"Whatever you're planning, Little Brother." Her voice was soft now. "Be careful."
"I will, Big Sis."
Lin Feng's hand came up and found hers on his shoulder. He didn't say anything. He just held it there, his thumb pressing once against her knuckles, before he gently pulled it away.
"Thank you, Big Sis."
"Mm."
Lin Feng stood up. He reached back to the table, picked up his cup, and drank the last of his tea. Then he set the empty cup back on the saucer with a quiet click.
Then he turned and walked toward the hallway.
Lin Qingwan watched Lin Feng go. It took him a while — the dining room was long, yet he didn't hurry.
She could hear his footsteps on the wooden floor, even and steady, getting quieter as he went. Then he reached the kitchen and turned the corner and after that, she couldn't hear them anymore.
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Lin Qingwan stayed where she was.
Her elbow found the mahogany again. Her chin settled back into her palm. The tablet lay beside her empty cup, the screen dark and untouched.
The dining room was too large for one person. The long table stretched out in front of her, all thirty feet of it, the mahogany catching the gold of the morning sun.
The chandelier hung overhead, still and bright. The empty chairs sat where they had been left — pushed back, angled, holding the shapes of the people who had been sitting in them.
She looked at the hallway where her brother had disappeared. The light from the tall windows fell across the floor in long, warm rectangles, and dust moved slowly through the beams.
She thought about her little brother.
He's still the same.
I know he is.
He still rubs the back of his neck when he's avoiding a question. He still eats his buns the same way — left side first. He still drinks his tea a little too fast. He still can't sit still for more than ten minutes before he finds a reason to stand up.
He still has his mannerisms, and his habits.
He is still the same boy I grew up with.
Her thumb found the rim of her empty cup and traced it slowly. Around and around.
But what happened to him.
He speaks differently now. He decides differently. He sat in front of Father this morning and he didn't even flinch. Not once. He looked at Jiang Mei when she called him evil and he smiled back at her and played the villain at this very table.
And then he asked me for men. For an operation.
My little brother. The one who spent four years chasing a woman who did not want him. Who let Father talk down to him. Who let that woman bleed him dry without a word of protest.
And now, he talks like someone from the military and uses the word "operation" as if he had been saying it his whole life.
Her thumb stopped on the rim.
What happened to him yesterday?
How come he changed so much?
Her hand left the cup. She placed both palms flat on the table and looked down at them — people always said she had her mother's hands, with long fingers and a strong grip.
The same hands that had held her little brother when he was small enough to carry.
But he is still my brother.
I know he is.
Whatever happened to you, Little Brother.
She lifted her head and looked at the hallway one more time. The light had shifted again. The rectangles on the floor had moved an inch toward the windows. The dust still floated through the beams, slow and quiet.
I'm here.
Big Sister will always be by your side.
Lin Qingwan sat there for another moment, alone in the dining room with the empty table and the September sun.
Then she picked up her tablet. She turned it over in her hands once, slowly, the dark screen catching her reflection — silver hair, her mother's face, the same eyes that had been watching Lin Feng since the day he was born.
She tapped the screen. The light came on and her morning schedule filled the display.
She straightened her blouse, set the tablet upright against the teapot, and went back to work.
The dining room settled into silence around her. The sun moved slowly across the mahogany, turning the wood from brown to gold to something almost white. The empty chairs held their positions. The dishes stayed where they had been left.
Outside the tall windows, the September morning continued without her.
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[End of Chapter]