Tonight’s dinner left him a bit too full, and Mo Xuan walked home letting out occasional burps.

Tomorrow was Saturday—finally, a chance to sleep in.

After nightfall, the street grew quiet. Pale streetlights cast a dim glow on half the road. Nearby apartments stood half-lit, silhouettes hazy and indistinct.

Lush scholar tree branches swayed gently, showering coolness below. The September night felt pleasant. A refreshing breeze danced through the air, leaving the heart light and calm.

As Mo Xuan neared his apartment building, he casually glanced down—no sign of that flashy little motorcycle.

*Has that kid not come back yet?*

Right. No classes tomorrow. He was probably off causing trouble with his buddies again. What a handful. If Mo Xuan had a little brother like that, he’d have sent him back to the factory for a remake long ago.

Poor Tian Sirui—juggling studies and family duties was hard enough. Now this? Even harder.

Shaking his head with a sigh, he climbed the stairs, stomach heavy. Passing the neighbor’s door, he glanced over absentmindedly.

Huh? Why was the door open?

Too odd. Tian Yixuan forgetting to lock up? Normal. Mo Xuan sometimes suspected the kid barely carried keys—coming home late, he’d just kick the door *thump-thump-thump*, waking the whole building.

But Tian Sirui? Unthinkable. This neighborhood wasn’t exactly friendly. Mo Xuan had seen aunties brawl over space, shady outsiders lurking after dark. Safety after sunset? Questionable.

Tian Sirui—a vulnerable girl, parents often away, an unreliable little brother. Leaving the door open at night? Was she trying to get hurt?

*Did she run out chasing him and forget to lock up?*

Mo Xuan stopped. Turned. Listened closely. A flicker of worry stirred in his chest.

Faintly, muffled sobs drifted from inside—broken, hesitant.

Holy shit—no way—

That was Tian Sirui’s voice. But why crying? Door wide open?

*Was someone hurting her?*

He couldn’t stand by. Heart racing, he kicked the door open and rushed toward the sound.

“Tian Sirui—!”

He froze the moment he burst in.

In the brightly lit room, the girl in a thin nightgown sat on the bed, knees hugged tight, face buried. Her shoulders trembled slightly with soft, muffled sobs.

Startled by the slam, she stilled upon hearing his voice—but didn’t lift her head. Instead, she turned half away, hiding her tear-streaked face.

Clearly, she didn’t want him to see her like this.

Mo Xuan barely noticed. His eyes scanned her quickly—the gown showed no tears, yet clung revealingly. Arms, legs fully exposed. Skin fair, smooth, unmarked. No injuries.

Relief washed over him. His tense shoulders dropped.

“Tian Sirui?” he asked softly. “Are you okay?”

Her sobs had quieted—embarrassed, maybe. She reached quietly for a tissue, wiping tears, still refusing to turn.

Silence. Mo Xuan didn’t dare leave. Something felt off tonight.

He stepped closer slowly, watching her every shift. If she flinched, he’d stop. Give her space.

“Tian Sirui?”

She stayed still as a house cat—docile, quiet. He relaxed a little.

“May I sit?”

No answer. But she shifted slightly on the sheet, turning her head away with a sulky tilt.

Mo Xuan wished he’d brought candy or sweets—something to soften the moment. *Should I run out for milk tea?* …Then he’d feel awkward returning.

Lost in thought, he caught her stealing a glance—eyes red-rimmed, glistening.

His chest tightened.

“Is it that brat Tian Yixuan again?” His voice turned cold.

She didn’t answer. But her evasive gaze—and the messy kitchen table he’d passed earlier—said everything.

This time, Mo Xuan’s disgust peaked.

No matter the reason, a younger brother shouldn’t treat his sister like this. Not protecting her. Not sharing her load. Just causing pain. What kind of family was that?

He thought of the Shen sisters. Truly—no comparison, no pain.

Furious inside, yet helpless. Only her parents could discipline Tian Yixuan. As an outsider, speaking up would be called meddling. Might even backfire.

All he could do was comfort her. Protect her. Help her pass the college entrance exam and build a brighter future.

He’d almost reached to pat her shoulder—then stopped. *Not appropriate.* He switched to words.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday. Are you free?”

Voice half-nervous, half-hopeful. Eyes sincere, warm.

Tian Sirui slowly turned.

Eyes swollen red. Tear tracks clear on her cheeks. The usual sparkle in her gaze, the gentle smile—gone. Under the lamplight, she looked weary. Even her hair seemed dull.

The nightgown, changed after her bath, carried a light, clean fragrance. Her chest was half-hidden beneath the neckline. Seated as she was, her legs lay nearly bare to his view—he could see the tops of her thighs without trying.

Mo Xuan remembered Tian Yixuan once bringing shady “big brothers” home overnight. If *they’d* seen her like this…

Unless this root problem was cut off, her safety would never be secure.

Another weight settled on his shoulders.

Silence stretched. Disappointment flickered. “No?”

“What time?” Her voice was calm—but trembled faintly.

*She agreed? Without asking where?*

“The City Library. I’ll wait at your door tomorrow at seven AM. We’ll study there.”

After a long pause, a faint, strained smile touched her lips—sad, tired.

“Okay…” She lowered her head again, gently stroking her bare feet. Mood still low.

A quiet dismissal.

Mo Xuan smiled softly, stood, and turned to leave.

To his surprise, Tian Sirui followed silently—footsteps light as a cat’s prowl.

Straight to the kitchen.

Spilled food stained the table and floor. One bowl shattered, missing a large chunk. Chopsticks scattered—only one found. A chair lay toppled sideways. Mo Xuan couldn’t imagine the argument that had happened here.

Tian Sirui said nothing. Bent down. Began cleaning.

*Clear the mess. Trash the shards. Fix the chair. Wipe the stove…* Her eyes stayed hollow, movements automatic.

A hand reached past her—scooping up sharp ceramic fragments first.

She turned. Met his warm, smiling eyes.

“I’ve got it. Be careful.”

His smile, as always, felt like sunlight.

She stared, blinked hard—tears nearly spilling.

No words followed. Just quiet teamwork. In minutes, the kitchen stood tidy again.

Tian Sirui watched silently as Mo Xuan returned to his apartment.

Night air cool as water. Leaning against the doorframe, she gazed at the closed door across the hall.

Slowly, she raised her right hand, pressed it gently against her chest, and closed her eyes.