Her answer cleverly sidestepped Mu Yuli’s question.

Of course she knew Jiang Fan was avoiding a direct reply—and this answer clearly wasn’t enough for him.

But right then, Anna stepped in smoothly.

“You’re absolutely right. Even if he *does* end up going back with you, Miss Mu, it won’t happen until we’ve settled our family matters first. I’m sure the renowned CEO of the Mu Corporation wouldn’t stoop to interfering in others’ private affairs, would she?”

She stressed the words “family matters,” the implication clear.

Mu Yuli wasn’t buying it. *Anna, you haven’t even gotten started yet—acting like his elder sister already? Has he even acknowledged you?*

Even if Jiang Fan accepted her, she’d only be a nominal older sister. But Mu Yuli was his official girlfriend. If she wanted, she could be listed on his household register *today*. Could Anna say the same?

“The one truly interfering is *you*, Miss Anna, isn’t it?”

She turned to Jiang Fan. Though slightly shorter than him, she looked down at him as if towering over him.

“Answer me: what am I to you?”

Jiang Fan instantly understood her game. But with Mu Yuli’s sharp gaze locked on him, he had no good moves left. One wrong word, and she’d drag him back later—unless Anna guarded him 24/7.

“...You’re my creditor and girlfriend.”

He said it reluctantly. Mu Yuli frowned at the reply.

“Drop ‘creditor.’ Say it again. And speak up—do you *want* to die?”

Jiang Fan snapped to attention, chest out, eyes forward. His voice rang clear:

“Mu Yuli is Jiang Fan’s one and only girlfriend for life!”

*Technically true,* he thought. *Girlfriend this lifetime. Doesn’t rule out wife or other partners later.*

No conflict.

“Good. Full of spirit.”

Mu Yuli, oblivious to his mental loophole, shot Anna a triumphant glance like a victorious general. Anna didn’t flinch. Casually, she shifted her grip on Jiang Fan’s hand—their fingers now intertwined—and gave it a little shake.

Jiang Fan squeezed his eyes shut.

*Here it comes.*

Mu Yuli’s voice cut through, sharp as shattered glass:

“And *this woman*—what is she to you?!”

This one was simple: just tell the truth. With a touch of finesse.

“Sister Anna has been kind to me. But since she did bring me here against my will... I’d say she’s a big sister I’m still getting to know.”

*She’d love to hear “that white-haired, ill-tempered eyesore,”* he mused. *But let’s be real.*

Anna showed no displeasure. She knew this was honest. If Jiang Fan had accepted her too easily, *that* would’ve been suspicious.

After a long, silent stare at Jiang Fan, Mu Yuli finally turned to Anna.

“Clear now? This is *our* family matter. You’re the outsider here.”

She emphasized “outsider.” Neither woman yielded an inch.

Trapped between them, Jiang Fan felt utterly helpless. Nothing he said would fix this.

“Ladies, please—call a truce.”

Salvation arrived.

Three pairs of eyes snapped toward the voice. Jiang Fan’s expression twisted with complexity.

“Auntie Ning,” Anna’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “So you’ve finally decided to show your face.”

As she’d told Jiang Fan, she held deep resentment toward her stepmother.

“I started this mess. I can’t hide forever.”

Just as Jiang Fan saw Ning Qian, she saw her son for the first time in two years.

Neither moved to greet the other. Standing on the spiral staircase, she wore a simple, light-colored house dress that couldn’t hide her elegance. Her face, still beautiful, held a trace of illness—her spirit seemed dimmed.

An Jianye, worried, rose to steady her. Their clothes clashed starkly; they looked nothing like husband and wife.

She shook her head gently at him. Her health was poor, but not so frail she couldn’t walk.

Anna released Jiang Fan’s hand, clearing space.

Ning Qian walked slowly to Jiang Fan. Silence fell. He kept his eyes down. She didn’t look away.

Anna tactfully pulled her father aside. Mu Yuli turned and left the hall. Soon, only mother and son remained.

After a long pause, Ning Qian spoke softly:

“Has life... been hard on you?”

“Hard?” Jiang Fan looked up, gave a faint, humorless smile, then shook his head.

“No hardship at all. Food, shelter, health—I’m fine. No need to worry.”

*Tch. Wrong tone.*

He should’ve sounded more detached. He’d thought he was over this. Why did his voice still carry that bitter edge?

Frustration flared. He’d imagined meeting her with calm indifference—exchanging pleasantries before parting ways cleanly.

But one sentence in, his defenses had crumbled.

*So what if she abandoned you? You’ve died and lived again since then. Ten years gone—why can’t you let it go?*

He cursed his own weakness inwardly. But what good did it do?

Ning Qian saw his pain. She stayed silent. No excuse could undo the truth: she had walked away.

“Xiao Fan... you’ve suffered.”

So many words crowded her heart, yet only these dry, hollow ones came out.

“Suffered? Don’t trouble yourself. I’m perfectly fine.”

*...Damn it. Wrong again.*

Fine. If he’d already failed, he might as well push further. He’d expected nothing good from this anyway.

Jiang Fan met his mother’s eyes, his voice cold.

“You heard earlier. That girl is my creditor and girlfriend. You needn’t worry about me. Live your new life in peace. As for my father—I’ll clear his debts, and we’ll be even. Same goes for you.”

“I’ve said my piece. Do as you please.”