Chapter 5: Guan Yizhou Is Here!

Si Ningyou was so choked up she could barely breathe.

The point wasn't whether she'd pushed or not. The point was that she'd actually been counter-killed this round.

Si Yimian turned to Si Congshan, her voice crisp.

"Dad, this time I have evidence to prove my innocence."

"So about Sister pushing me—can I get an explanation for that too?"

Si Congshan's face darkened.

He understood perfectly well that the right was entirely on Si Yimian's side.

But forcing Ningyou to apologize in front of everyone...

"We're all family, there's no need to—"

"Exactly, we're all family."

Si Yimian picked up the thread immediately, sincerity shining in her eyes.

"In a family, someone always has to take the first step back. Harmony brings prosperity."

"So this time, let Sister take the first step back and just apologize to me."

"I'm very easy to appease."

Si Ningyou's face shifted from pale to green.

Si Congshan fell silent too.

Ruan Qiutang urged softly, "Congshan, Mianmian is in the right. Ningyou should give that apology."

She was softer-hearted than her husband, more prone to guilt.

That hug earlier had melted her heart completely.

Si Congshan didn't respond.

For the first time, he felt that the saying "both palms and backs are flesh" was a false proposition.

But tonight's events were out in the open. If he didn't take a stance now, the label of favoritism would never come off.

He looked at Si Ningyou, his gaze complicated.

"Ningyou."

Si Congshan finally spoke, his voice hoarse and heavy.

"You were wrong this time. You shouldn't have made accusations without getting your facts straight."

"Apologize to Mianmian."

Si Ningyou bit her lip. She knew she couldn't dodge it anymore.

Swallowing this bitter pill choked her with blood.

The tactics that had worked flawlessly for eight years had backfired on her today.

Stifling. But she had to play along.

She took a deep breath, looked at Si Yimian, and instantly filled her eyes with tears.

"Mianmian, I'm sorry."

She forced her voice soft.

"Sister misunderstood you. Sister apologizes."

"But that push—I really didn't do it on purpose."

"It was so chaotic at the time, I might have accidentally bumped into you..."

Si Yimian poked her head out from beside Ruan Qiutang.

"Don't cry, Sister."

She rose slowly and walked to the bedside.

Leaning close to Si Ningyou's ear, she added in a whisper only the two of them could hear.

"There'll be plenty of time for you to cry later."

"I'm here to clean up the green tea. You just sit back and worry while I handle business."

Si Ningyou's whole body went rigid. Cold sweat sprang up on her back.

She snapped her head up and collided with Si Yimian's clear, innocent eyes.

Was this Si Yimian?

That gloomy, taciturn punching bag?

Si Yimian stepped back half a pace, her voice rising again into that soft, sticky tone.

"I accept the apology. But actually, Sister didn't push me."

One sentence yanked everyone's hearts right back up into their throats.

"It was too chaotic. I lost my footing and fell onto the shards myself."

The twist came out of nowhere.

"Are you playing me?"

Si Ningyou froze on the hospital bed, her brain completely short-circuiting.

She'd just finished apologizing, and this bitch self-destructed?

What kind of newfangled honey trap was this?

Si Yimian looked at Si Ningyou, the corner of her mouth curving.

"I just did to you what you've done to me all these years."

"Only today, the roles are reversed."

Ruan Qiutang started to speak, then stopped. "Mianmian, that's a bit—"

Si Yimian turned back, her gaze sweeping over Father and Mother Si.

"All these years, you've convicted me on a single sentence."

"Every time, you told me to back down. Every time, you told me to yield."

Si Yimian walked over and took Ruan Qiutang's arm.

"Dad, Mom, I'm not asking you to favor me."

"I just hope that next time something happens, you could slow down a little before picking a side."

"I'm clumsy with words, but I can tell the truth too."

Then Si Yimian turned to He Nanxian.

"Brother Nanxian, you too."

"Next time you want to protect someone, could you check the surveillance footage first?"

"Or at least give me a chance to speak?"

"The wrongly accused remember for a long time. Every time trust is withheld, another cut opens up."

"Those don't stitch shut."

Si Yimian's light words sliced open the abscess they'd all silently ignored for years.

He Nanxian's throat tightened. For the first time, Si Yimian had left him speechless.

"Mianmian, it's not that I don't trust you, I just—"

Si Yimian smiled. A faint smile.

"Just that you're used to trusting Sister first. I understand."

Ruan Qiutang's heart clenched. Her eyes went red.

Her dead conscience suddenly started attacking her.

"Mianmian..."

Her voice caught.

"Mom will listen to you more from now on."

Si Congshan closed his eyes, his chest squeezing tight.

He had indeed gotten used to taking the easy way out.

Since the day this daughter was found and brought back, she'd been like a transparent person.

They'd grown used to her silence and her concessions.

Every time the sisters argued, the moment Si Ningyou cried, he'd make Si Yimian apologize.

Like a quick, convenient cure-all.

But today, that cure-all turned bitter in his own mouth.

Finally, Si Congshan let out a heavy breath.

"From now on, in this family, whoever makes a claim provides the proof."

"No evidence, no throwing accusations."

He looked at Si Ningyou, his gaze complicated.

"Ningyou, you're the elder sister. Act like one."

"Tonight's matter ends here. No more suspicion, no more hurting the peace."

It was a belated justice for Si Yimian, and an indirect warning to Si Ningyou.

Si Ningyou frowned tightly, as if she'd swallowed a fly.

Make her provide proof?

All these years, hadn't she just opened her mouth and said whatever she wanted?

If she always had evidence, would she be called a tea artist?

That'd be called a lawyer!

Wait—this waste used to do nothing but cry. Today she actually fought back with a combo?

So smooth. Did she sign up for some master's crash course?

She'd have to note this down and dissect it frame by frame later.

For now, she could only follow the step down.

Suppressing her frustration, an apologetic smile bloomed on her face.

"Dad's right. I was too paranoid today."

Retreat to advance. Show weakness, court pity.

Old trick. But someone always falls for it.

"I shouldn't have been so sensitive, suspecting Mianmian over a glass of juice."

"My allergy was so severe at the time, I really thought I was going to die."

"When you're in that state, your head gets muddled..."

"Enough."

He Sichen, who'd been sitting quietly watching the whole battle, finally cut Si Ningyou off.

The room went silent.

Everyone turned to look at him at once.

He Sichen had heard enough to grow tired of it.

He stood, bringing the farce to a close.

"Since the matter is clarified, everyone disperse."

His gaze swept over Si Ningyou, his tone flat.

"The allergic symptoms have subsided. One night of observation will suffice."

"You can take turns staying with her, but don't all crowd in here. It affects ventilation."

Si Ningyou's performance was cut off mid-act, the rest of her weak display stuck in her throat.

Si Congshan rubbed his brow and looked at Si Yimian's legs, still in hospital robes.

"Mianmian's injury is on her leg, and it's raining hard outside. Stay in the hospital for observation tonight. No need to go back and forth."

He turned to He Sichen, his tone returning to something polite.

"Sichen, please arrange a room."

He Sichen nodded, saying nothing more.

Ruan Qiutang nudged He Nanxian.

"Nanxian, take Mianmian over."

He Nanxian nodded and walked toward Si Yimian.

"Let's go."

...

The three walked side by side down the corridor.

Si Yimian was in the middle—her arranged fiancé on the left, her future lover on the right.

Three people, three sets of thoughts.

Si Yimian walked slowly, her injured leg making her limp slightly.

The wide pant legs pooled at her ankles. Her foot suddenly slipped, her knee buckling.

She let out a small gasp and braced against the wall with quick reflexes.

Both men turned at once.

He Sichen's hand was already out—then he saw He Nanxian's hand reaching over.

His fingertips curled slightly inward, retracting without a trace.

Avoiding suspicion was instinct.

But just as his knuckles were about to bend, warmth flooded his palm.

A soft little hand slipped in without hesitation, slender fingers lacing through his.

"Dr. He, sorry for the trouble."

"Could you help me walk?"