But forcing Ye Chang'an to attend an all-girls school?

What kind of bizarre punishment game was this?

Though Chang'an himself had fair, clean features—easily mistaken for a girl with an androgynous style, and utterly flawless in women’s clothing—

no way would anyone drag him into a girls’ academy! Seriously!

Thanks to their brother’s “legacy,” all ten children now lived comfortably. Of course, only they knew the hidden struggles.

Gu Qianqian’s enrollment at the elite girls’ academy relied entirely on Chang’an’s final ripple.

Ah… this was so JOJO.

Cinderella attended Ya County Junior High—a pricey private school.

Yan Ye, also sixteen and technically old enough for high school, remained in junior high’s third year.

She studied at the junior division of Chang’an Noble Girls’ Academy, a prestigious K–12 private institution where students advanced directly to its high school campus.

So while Yan Ye was Qianqian’s senior, the separate campuses and grades made it feel like they attended different schools—though technically, they were schoolmates.

Yan Ye was quiet.

Her name meant “speech,” yet she was nearly invisible.

Qianqian and Shi Xia were close, and Qianqian got along well with the other sisters and Brother Qingxiang—practically Yan Ye’s opposite.

She was the beloved, pampered middle child everyone doted on.

By contrast, the silent Yan Ye lingered on the family’s edges, hard for others to reach.

Ye Shixia occasionally messaged her, but replies were cold. Qianqian confirmed it too: Yan Ye was distant… She didn’t know how to talk to her.

Shixia had even visited after Yan Ye dropped out—no useful answers.

Thankfully, a year later, she returned to school.

That’s why she lagged a year behind Qianqian, still in junior high.

Not wishing to disturb Shi Xia’s bath further, Chang’an lifted his wine glass and wandered the villa—vast, elegant, yet deeply lonely.

A memory flickered: him walking a long corridor, glancing back again and again—hoping someone watched, fearing someone watched.

Trapped. No escape.

He passed the living room into the hallway. Clean walls held cheerful, slightly childish doodles.

Beneath: *Chang’an Orphanage, Class of ’02, [Name]*… *Class of ’03, [Name]*…

Gifts from the children of Chang’an Orphanage—the one Ye Shixia now ran.

In a villa like this, one might expect oil paintings, ink art, or calligraphy by a master.

That’d be normal.

But here hung only the children’s drawings—clumsy, innocent, tender.

Carefully framed, like priceless treasures.

Chang’an couldn’t help but smile—a genuinely warm one.

If the orphanage kids saw it,

they’d gasp: “Sister Shi Xia’s smile… it’s just like Brother’s!”

Lost in the moment, he didn’t notice the soft footsteps behind him.

First came the scent—steam, lotion, floral bath gel, and a woman’s natural warmth.

Ye Chang’an spun around.

His hand brushed a bare shoulder.

She gasped. The towel clutched to her chest slipped—

Stunned. Silent. Mind blank.

One second.

Two seconds.

“Aaaaah!!! Shi Xia, why’d you come out wrapped only in a towel?!”

The boy’s shriek shattered the villa’s silence.