By the Huangpu River, in a high-end villa district.
The villa complex had been completed for over a decade, yet the occupancy rate had never exceeded 80%.
The reason? The cost. It was so exorbitantly priced that even the wealthy elite complained about the developers bleeding them dry.
Qin Sheng stepped out of the subway station and walked to the gated community with a backpack slung over her shoulder.
The security guard glanced at her once and let her in.
In this line of work, it didn’t matter if you weren’t good-looking, had a temper, or slacked off. What did matter was knowing how to read people and situations.
You could offend outsiders—at worst, they’d call you a lousy doorman—but you had to show respect to the residents.
Especially someone like the eldest daughter of the Qin family. Her family owned the best villa in the entire neighborhood.
Even without her prestigious identity, that stunningly elegant face alone was unforgettable.
She was only in high school now… it was hard to imagine just how beautiful she’d become in the years to come.
Perhaps knowing she hadn’t yet returned, the wrought iron gates of the Qin villa stood wide open. The lights inside were all on.
Qin Sheng entered, her expression emotionless.
The villa was decorated entirely in a classical Chinese style—antique, refined.
A water wheel rotated gently in the entryway, its steady trickling sound echoing softly, adding a unique charm to the space.
In the living room, a woman and a teenage boy had clearly been waiting a while.
The woman was Yang Xuan, her stepmother—still graceful and well-maintained.
The boy was Qin Ge, her younger half-brother. Though only a middle schooler, he was decently good-looking.
Unfortunately, years of indulgence had made him spoiled and arrogant, with an air of petty delinquency about him.
Qin Sheng had never liked them.
There was no need to explain the stepmother. Her parents had divorced due to emotional issues when she was very young.
At the time, she didn’t grasp the severity of the situation—she merely thought they’d quarreled and would make up eventually.
But instead of reconciliation, she was met with the image of her father holding a stranger’s hand, telling her, “From now on, she’s your new mom.”
As for her younger brother—He had been doted on since birth.
When they were little, he always tried to snatch her things and would throw tantrums if she refused.
Though he improved slightly as he grew older, it was only because he’d learned such behavior would get him scolded—not because he truly changed.
In contrast, Shen Xiyan had never shown such immature tendencies. The two boys weren’t even comparable.
What disturbed Qin Sheng most, though, was the strange way Qin Ge sometimes looked at her. There was a vague, unsettling emotion hidden behind his gaze—a feeling that never should have existed between siblings.
In her past life, behind her back, he had often made trouble for Shen Xiyan.
Xiyan didn’t want her to worry, so he kept most of it to himself. He’d even gotten injured a few times and secretly started learning self-defense just to be prepared.
By the time Qin Sheng found out, it was already late. Furious, she had someone break both of Qin Ge’s legs.
Yang Xuan greeted her with a warm smile. “Qin Sheng, you’re back. Why so late today?”
“…Traffic.”
“Let’s eat, then. Your father’s not coming home tonight—it’s just the three of us. I had the maid make your favorite dishes.”
“I’m not hungry. You eat.”
Without even sparing them a glance, Qin Sheng headed straight upstairs.
Yang Xuan’s gentle expression faded the moment her footsteps disappeared.
Qin Ge sneered. “Told you she wouldn’t appreciate it. She never does.”
“We still have to wait for her,” Yang Xuan snapped. “You know how your father is—he’s always biased toward her.”
“You’re my son, I can accept you being wronged. But if she suffers and he finds out, we’re both finished! That girl’s never respected me!”
“So annoying,” Qin Ge muttered.
His mother had been telling him the same thing since he was young: Don’t make Father angry.
She would vent in private—how unfair it was that the daughter of another woman received more love than her own son.
But in public, she always kept up the act of being a sweet, gentle wife.
“Even if it’s frustrating, you have to endure it. Do you know how hard it was for me to give birth to you? She’s just a girl—she’ll be married off sooner or later.”
“You just behave yourself, learn from your father when the time comes, and you’ll have nothing to worry about for the rest of your life.”
Something about those words hit a nerve. Qin Ge’s face darkened.
Upstairs, around the corner, Qin Sheng stood quietly.
She had heard everything—then silently left.
Those two were just as revolting as ever.
There was no reason to hold back anymore.
She didn’t care about inheritance or status.
But they had wronged Xiyan in the past. The way she handled it back then still felt far too lenient. He had already been hurt.
If they dared to try again this time—they could prepare for the consequences.
***
She returned to her room.
The sheer lavender curtains filtered the moonlight into a soft violet hue.
Standing by the window, she gently pulled the curtains open and stretched lazily, gazing at the quiet man-made lake outside.
Though there were housekeepers in the villa, Qin Sheng never allowed anyone into her room.
Even the curtains were rarely touched.
The reason?
Every inch of the walls was covered with photographs of Shen Xiyan—taken from various angles, at different times, in different places.
Hundreds upon hundreds of them. Enough to make most people uncomfortable.
After confirming the door was locked, Qin Sheng pulled down a photo—one where Xiyan had his arms around her—and collapsed onto the bed, hugging it tightly.
A while later, breathless and flushed from her flurry of emotions, she slowly sat up and began tidying the messed-up bed.
Once everything was in place, she returned to her desk and opened a notebook—where she’d been documenting her plans.
She circled the name Jiang Xi.
She felt the least hostility toward her aunt.
If her aunt had told her about the stomach cancer earlier, things wouldn’t have ended the way they did.
Money wasn’t the issue—she had plenty. Even if it were late-stage cancer, she could’ve bought several more years.
The concern her aunt had—that Shen Xiyan wouldn’t be able to hold his head up if he accepted help—was unfounded.
If Xiyan needed it, she would have given him everything.
This time, she wouldn’t allow her aunt to suffer again.
It was the best way she could make up for the past.
As for Shen Wen… her “brother-complex” hadn’t yet emerged.
In her previous life, it only showed after Qin Sheng and Xiyan got together, when she felt her brother was being “taken away.”
It was nothing serious—just childish jealousy.
She had time to correct it.
Since being forceful drove Xiyan away last time, she’d take a softer approach now. She couldn’t afford to lose him again.
Then there was Lin…
Qin Sheng jabbed her pen repeatedly at Lin’s photo before drawing a large red X across her face.
The pen tore through the paper, leaving an alarming red gash.
This woman had waited ten years for Xiyan. She was the real problem.
All that “sisterly affection”? Completely fake—just a mask.
Dealing with her would just take a modified version of last time’s successful plan.
And then… there was another woman—just as beautiful as Qin Sheng herself.
If things went according to fate, she and Xiyan would meet over summer break.
Troublesome.
How was she supposed to deal with them?
Qin Sheng fell into deep thought.
By the time she sorted through everything, she was completely exhausted.
Staring at a photo of Shen Xiyan, a flush crept up her skin.
Her weariness gave way to a sudden wave of heat and longing. Her eyes, once sharp and cold, grew misty, like veiled water.
That cool, ethereal face now radiated a kind of seductive intensity that didn’t belong.
She gazed at Xiyan’s image, eyes filled with unmistakable yearning.
Her breath was shaky.
“Xiyan…” she whispered.
“Xiyan…”
“Xiyan…”
Her voice trembled with emotion. She bit her lip, trying desperately to stay composed.
But the more she resisted, the stronger the fire inside her burned.
A strange emptiness spread from her chest to her limbs, a craving she couldn’t explain, growing stronger and harder to ignore.
Tears began to fall silently, mingling with quiet sobs.
“Xiyan… I miss you so much…”