Chapter 12: Keeping the Balance

Si Yao held her phone in silence for three seconds, then hung up and dialed Old Master Xing: “A’ni says she wants to come home to learn the rules.”

“Yes, teach her in advance.”

“But you mentioned Xing Jue was too flashy…”

“Even so, he must keep a low profile. That’s the rule of the Xing family,” Old Master Xing replied, then added, “What’s wrong? Have you forgotten the rules?”

Si Yao wanted to ask, what about me?

In the end, she said nothing, just smiled: “I haven’t forgotten. I’ll teach her well.”

“Send someone to make up a bed for A’jue. He needs a child.”

The call ended.

Si Yao got up to prepare Xing Jue’s bed.

He had his quirks. He didn’t care about anything else, but when it came to his room, only Si Yao could touch it.

His bed was unusually large, custom-made, two meters and forty centimeters wide. Each time Si Yao made his bed, it took her an hour.

This time was no different.

Sweating, she changed to a new set of sheets and duvet covers, embroidered with red mandarin ducks.

It was a wedding gift from Xing Jue’s grandmother when he and Si Yao got engaged.

But neither of them had ever used it. To be precise, Si Yao had never slept in this bed.

And tomorrow—perhaps as soon as tonight—the new mistress of this bed, and even this courtyard, Xing A’ni, would move in.

Si Yao… sat on the floor, lost in thought.

Unconsciously, she touched her belly, unable to understand why, after seven years of persistence, she still ended up letting that murderer Xing A’ni in. If that was the case, these seven years had been more than a joke.

She didn’t eat lunch, curled up on the bed, absent-mindedly tugging at the sheets.

By dusk, Xing Jue, unusually, came home.

Si Yao walked over to take his coat, stood on tiptoe to loosen his tie, pausing as her hand touched it.

The tie was still knotted as she had done it that morning—it seemed… untouched.

Si Yao lowered her eyes, finished untying it, and took a step back to hang it by the door.

Xing Jue rolled up his sleeves. “What was the call about?”

“Grandfather said… you’ve been too ostentatious lately.”

“So?”

Si Yao pursed her lips. “Keep a lower profile.”

Xing Jue said nothing, washed his hands, and sat down to eat. “A’ni is coming tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“Who told you?”

Si Yao frowned for a moment. “A’ni.”

Xing Jue paused with his chopsticks, then said calmly, “Teach her well.”

All the tangled imaginings abruptly ceased.

Xing Jue ate a few bites, frowned, sipped his tea, and looked sideways at Si Yao, who stood beside him.

She wore a white sweater, a few loose strands of hair at her temples, her gaze lowered—gentle and virtuous, though a bit absent-minded, yet still… alluring.

Xing Jue looked her over from head to toe several times, kneaded his knuckles, pushed his bowl and chopsticks forward, and chuckled lightly, “Eat well, then come upstairs.”

Si Yao bit her lip, hesitated, then went to eat. She ate slowly, and above her head came a crisp “snap.”

The sound of a lighter.

Xing Jue lit a cigarette, leaning on the second-floor railing, his face blurred by smoke, but he was clearly urging her.

His fingers tapped the wooden stairs, over and over, growing impatient.

Si Yao quickened her pace, finished eating, and went upstairs, only to be pushed directly into the bedroom at the top of the stairs.

After falling onto the bed, she spoke up, “Does it have to be Xing A’ni?”

Xing Jue, in the midst of unbuttoning his shirt, paused and gave a faint, ambiguous smile: “She doesn’t bear the Xing name now.”

Si Yao persisted, “Then why can’t you ever get enough? And you once said, as long as I helped you raise a child, marrying me wouldn’t be out of the question. If you’re so casual about marriage, why must it be Xing A’ni?”

His tie was untouched. Usually, Si Yao paid little attention, but that morning A’ni had boasted about him being in the shower.

Anyone who’s had meat wouldn’t brag about it to someone who’s never tasted it.

Si Yao propped herself up, half-sitting, confused and angry: “Xing A’ni’s background is useless to you. If that’s the case, how is Wen Sui any worse than her? At worst, you could treat them equally—why not have both?”