"Next time. Let's head home early for dinner today," Hu Ming said, standing up and rapping his knuckles lightly against Han Yunxi's head. "And spend more time with your mother when you can."
"Brother, I know Mom has her biases against you. But believe me—we're still family!"
A bright hope flickered in Han Yunxi's eyes. In that gaze, Hu Ming saw her yearning for the warmth of a united home.
*[Still far too naive.]*
Han Yunxi likely never realized the family she cherished was already a lone boat in a storm.
One day, she would see the truth.
And that clarity would be the price of her growth.
Hu Ming never took responsibility for others. Or rather—he rarely shouldered the weight of anyone else’s life. Such burdens were suffocating. He craved freedom above all.
...
At the dinner table, days after *that* incident, Madam Han kept glancing at Hu Ming as if words hovered on her lips. Pride held her tongue each time she opened her mouth.
Hu Ming kept his head down, eating quietly. He’d noticed her stares long ago—but if she wouldn’t speak, he wouldn’t pry. Their strained relationship was obvious to everyone in the Khan household.
Ever since Han Shuyi’s return, Madam Han had poured years of withheld affection onto him. And Han Shuyi played the dutiful son perfectly, basking in her attention.
It was under this shadow that Hu Ming and Madam Han grew further apart.
Someday, Hu Ming knew, she’d likely cast him out at Han Shuyi’s request.
But he’d long prepared for that day.
After dinner, as Hu Ming turned toward his room, Han Litian’s voice stopped him.
"Hu Ming. Come here."
Hu Ming turned back and settled onto the sofa. Han Litian’s gaze swept over each family member.
"In a few days, we’ll attend a banquet hosted by a city executive. Servants will prepare your attire." His eyes lingered on Hu Ming. "This isn’t just a social event. I’ll formally introduce Shuyi—and Hu Ming—as my sons."
Madam Han shifted closer to Han Shuyi, her hand stroking his back soothingly. Han Shuyi sat rigidly upright, absorbing every word.
*This is my gateway to high society.*
In those circles, no one asked about your achievements. They only cared about your father’s name, your mother’s status.
Bloodline decided everything. Effort meant nothing.
He’d long abandoned dreams of rising from rags. Such fantasies were dust.
He refused to be trampled underfoot forever, tired of whispers about his lowly origins.
To climb, he’d crush anyone blocking his path.
His eyes flicked to Hu Ming—and met Hu Ming’s steady gaze.
Hu Ming sat relaxed, chin propped on his palm, a faint smirk playing on his lips. That deep-rooted confidence was exactly what Han Shuyi craved.
His fists clenched slightly.
Hu Ming saw the fire in Han Shuyi’s eyes—the hunger to prove himself at the banquet, the calculation marking Hu Ming as a stepping stone.
*Let’s see what you’ll try.*
Han Yunxi’s face fell at her father’s announcement. She hated these banquets. Flatterers swarmed her, and some even staged "accidents" just to catch her eye.
She knew her father was a prize many schemed to win. As his daughter, she must wear perfect manners like armor.
Hu Ming, though—he’d once caused scandals at every event, infuriating their father. Now, Father insisted he attend? Was this his way of claiming Hu Ming as family?
A small smile touched Han Yunxi’s lips.
Madam Han tugged her arm, snapping her from her thoughts. She patted Han Yunxi’s hand firmly.
"Yunxi, when your father and I aren’t near, look after your brother." Her eyes darted to Han Shuyi, who offered Han Yunxi a warm, practiced smile.
Han Yunxi sighed. "Mom, he’s my brother. I won’t abandon him."
"Just reminding you," Madam Han murmured. Her gaze drifted to Hu Ming, who was scrolling through short videos on his phone. The words she’d held back all evening finally escaped: "Hu Ming, if you need anything—just ask the family. Don’t worry."
Hu Ming looked up, his smile polite but distant. "Thank you for your concern, Madam Han."
Those three words—*Madam Han*—stabbed her heart.
When had they drifted so far apart? She’d wanted to mend things, but Shuyi always needed her just as she gathered courage. He was her flesh and blood; her guilt over his lost years drowned out everything else.
She sighed, trapped in her own silence.
...
Late that night, Kangxin entered Hu Ming’s room to massage his shoulders. Since last time, she’d come daily—he seemed to enjoy it.
But tonight, when she finished, Hu Ming didn’t dismiss her. He guided her to the desk and sat her down.
"Starting today, I’ll teach you to read."
"...Young Master, I’ve never learned."
"No matter. We begin from zero. We still have time before we leave the Khan Family."
Kangxin stared at the textbook, lost. Hu Ming’s hands settled gently on her shoulders.
"Do it for me?"
"...Alright."
