Yu Mian felt her blood boil.That boy—that nuisance—Xiao Yu was becoming more than just an annoyance. He was a liability, a crawling weed in the pristine garden she'd spent years cultivating. She had offered him mercy once. She had even granted him space, a quiet little corner to exist in without crossing into her light.
They had a deal. Unspoken, but understood: He was supposed to stay in his place.Live quietly. Smile stupidly. Be grateful he was allowed to breathe the same air as her without consequence. Instead, Xiao Yu had done the unthinkable.
He climbed.
Not just climbed—crawled out of his role, fangs bared and eyes shining like he belonged. Worse, he had started to gather sympathy. People were looking at him, whispering his name in corners that once echoed only hers.And the final blow—he had exposed her. Not entirely, not yet, but enough to leave hairline cracks in her porcelain mask. She could feel it: the stares weren't adoration anymore—they were suspicion wrapped in sugar.
It was unacceptable.
Her manicured nails dug into her palms as she paced her room, her mind a storm of fury and fear. Xiao Yu was supposed to break. Cry. Run away with his tail between his legs after the drugging scandal. That video of Zhao Chen was her ace. Instead, he'd turned the table on her in front of the whole school. Publicly. Pettily. Perfectly.
He was starting to become a real problem.
And Yu Mian didn't tolerate problems.
Not when she'd built her world so carefully—her reputation, her friends, her title as the school's perfect beauty. Xiao Yu had become a crack in her mirror, and the more she stared, the more her reflection twisted.
No. She wasn't going to let this spiral. Not now. Not ever.
With her mind made up and a twisted sort of calm washing over her, Yu Mian applied a layer of soft pink lip gloss, straightened her skirt, and set out. The school courtyard was quieter now—most students were still buzzing about the assembly—but she knew where he'd be. Xiao Yu never truly hid. He just made himself look like he was trying.
When she finally spotted him leaning against the far wall by the garden path, absentmindedly poking at the petals of a dying flower, her lips curled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
This time, she would end it properly.
"You bloody bastard," Yu Mian hissed, her heels clicking furiously against the pavement as she stormed toward him like a tempest in designer clothing. Her face was tight with fury, eyes gleaming with that specific brand of rage that comes when a queen realizes her throne is shaking. "Have you had your fun?"
Xiao Yu didn't flinch. Slowly, lazily, he stood from the bench, dusting imaginary lint off his sleeve like she wasn't the eye of a hurricane heading straight for him.
"No," he replied, voice soft but cutting. "Quite the contrary. This is just the beginning."
Her lips curled. "You think fighting with me makes you any better?" Her voice had a dangerous lilt, sharp and smooth like a dagger wrapped in silk. "You and I—we were cut from the same fabric, Xiao Yu. Don't act like you're righteous now."
"And we'll both go down together," Xiao Yu shot back, the light fading from his usually sparkling eyes. There was no mischief in his smile this time, only grief disguised as purpose. "I regret my actions—every single one. I did it for the wrong cause. If I'd known who you really were, I wouldn't have picked you. I wouldn't have trusted you. But it's too late for regrets."
His voice dropped, heavy and calm. "Now, I only have one goal: to bring you down, Yu Mian. And to make sure you never rise again."
She blinked once. Then twice. And then she laughed.
At first, it was just a chuckle, elegant and composed. But in seconds, it unraveled into wild, unrestrained laughter, echoing across the courtyard like a performance. Her laughter was beautiful—and absolutely terrifying.
"If someone overheard you," she said between breaths, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye, "they'd think I'm the villain in some tragic little novel. How dramatic you've become."
She stepped forward, voice low and dangerous. "But I'm warning you, Xiao Yu—for the last time—stay out of my business."
Her posture said what her words didn't. Shoulders straight, chin up, eyes like sharpened glass. One wrong move and she'd cut him clean.
But Xiao Yu didn't back down.
"If your 'business' involves the people I care about," he said, smiling with all the challenge of a prince daring a dragon, "then I'd love to see what you'll do if I don't."
His smile widened into a taunting smirk, the kind that was born from surviving hell with his heart barely intact. And then he turned, back straight, and walked away like he hadn't just declared war.
Yu Mian stood frozen for a moment, rage simmering just beneath the surface. Her breathing was uneven, her cheeks flushed with crimson.
"Fine," she muttered, her voice low and cold as winter steel. "If he won't stop… then I guess I'll remove him once and for all."
Without another glance, she turned and walked toward her final class of the day—her steps measured, but her mind already plotting.
Because if Xiao Yu wanted to fight fire with fire...Yu Mian was ready to become the inferno.
Xiao Yu walked back to his house, his mind still buzzing from the chaos of the day. He was tired, ready to collapse into his bed and pretend the world didn't exist for a while. But when he reached his door, he froze.
The lock was undone.
Strange, he thought immediately. He was always careful to lock up before leaving. A faint unease prickled in his chest as he slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open.
What he saw inside nearly made him jump.
Standing in his small living room was a man, one who looked disturbingly familiar—like him, only slightly older, sharper around the edges. He had the same eyes, the same features, though maturity had etched quiet confidence into his face. The stranger was calmly setting a plate of food on the dining table, as though he belonged there.
Xiao Yu's mouth opened, but the words came out in his head first. "Erm, Shiroi, who the fuck is this?"
Shiroi's voice chimed back smoothly, "Your older brother, Xiao Ran."
Xiao Yu blinked, stunned. Older brother? That wasn't exactly the kind of thing you forgot, but the sight of him after so long made his chest tighten in confusion.
"YuYu," the man spoke, confirming it with his tone alone. His voice was calm, a little deeper than Xiao Yu remembered. "How have you been?"
"I… erm, fine, I guess," Xiao Yu said awkwardly, still standing at the door as if he might bolt.
"What about school?" Xiao Ran asked, his hands moving with practiced ease as he set the table.
"Fine," Xiao Yu replied quickly, unable to look him in the eyes.
"Good. Go wash up and come eat," Xiao Ran said, no room left for argument.
Somehow, his words carried the weight of authority Xiao Yu remembered from his childhood. Without protest, Xiao Yu obeyed, washing his hands before sliding into the seat across from him.
For a while, there was only the quiet clink of utensils, the warmth of freshly cooked food filling the room. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, not exactly—it was strange, but familiar, like slipping into a memory he thought he'd outgrown. Xiao Yu found himself eating more than he expected, his tense shoulders slowly unwinding.
Then Xiao Ran's voice cut through the calm.
"I was called by your school."
The sentence hit like an explosion. Xiao Yu's spoon slipped from his fingers, clattering loudly against the bowl. He stiffened, staring wide-eyed at his brother, his mind instantly racing with panic.
"You… what?" Xiao Yu asked, voice unsteady.
"They said there's been some trouble," Xiao Ran replied, his expression unreadable as he met Xiao Yu's gaze.
Xiao Yu's throat tightened. All at once, the food lost its flavor, and the silence between them grew unbearably heavy.