The main house was dressed for the New Year—neon lights strung across the veranda, holiday music blasting from the living room, a familiar warmth in the air.
Xue Zhen and Xue Ning had just stepped through the grand doors when the shouting began.
"How could someone like her—adopted—hold director shares of the Second House?!" Xue Bo's voice rang through the corridors.
"Exactly!" Xue Minglan added with a sneer, arms crossed over, eyes full of disdain. "She should return what's not hers. They've been dead for years! Uncle Jianyu and Hexian! Their shares should've been divided among the rest of us. Bloodline matters!"
"Shut up, Minglan!" Xue Jingshan, who snapped at his younger brother as soon as he spotted his son by the doorway, standing behind the usually silent niece he secretly favored, tried to intervene.
To no avail.
The third branch -- father and son Xue Minglan and Xue Bo-- clustered together like a pack of hyenas, loud and arrogant since the night started, while the second branch, Xue Ling and his wife and son Liyan, quietly watched, their eyes flickering with restrained discomfort.
Xue Jingshan's brows furrowed, jaw tight with restraint.
He had already barked at Xue Minglan to shut up. And when Xue Bo smugly opened his mouth again, as if about to spout nonsense again, Jingshan's hand slammed down on the table—loud enough to startle, but not loud enough to cross the line.
The murmurs ceased. All eyes turned toward the head of the table.
There sat Xue Rui.
Unmoved.
Unbothered.
Untouched by the mess unraveling in front of him.
He didn't speak.
He didn't even raise an eyebrow.
But he was listening.
That much was obvious.
His fingers casually tapped against the armrest of his chair, the rhythm slow... measured... deliberate. As if deciding whether this drama was worth his time—or if he should let it escalate, just to see who would fall.
Xue Jingshan met his father's gaze.
And what he found wasn't fury.
It was worse.
It was indifference.
In the echoing hall, all eyes turned to Xue Ning—graceful in white, silent, not even blinking at the sudden scrutiny.
"Uncle, surely you can see. A beta with no pedigree," Xue Bo muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "What use is she except for branding?" With a huff he stood up as if to leave the house, on his hand a glass of purple liquid he snatched from the banquet table, and with arrogant strides he purposefully bumped into Xue Ning, splashing her white suit.
Xue Ning stepped back then, her heels clicking with precision, eyes widening for a second for the audacity, but she ever so quickly masked her surprise and annoyance with a cool expression. Her voice was calm but cold, each word dipped in contempt.
"If you're going to stage a public tantrum, cousin, at least be clever about it. Next time, spill red wine. Grape juice washes off too easily."
Xue Bo's face darkened as the room erupted into stunned silence—and then low chuckles. Even a few of his own so-called alpha friends covered their mouths to hide their amusement. The third branch fell into awkward stillness.
Xue Zhen didn't say a word, standing beside Xue Ning like a silent blade. He and Xue Ning may be at odds most of the time, but against this obnoxious alpha cousin, Xue Zhen would always be on her side.
He didn't have to speak. His presence alone had begun to shift the weight of the room.