"Both of you, enough!" Song Huifei's sharp voice sliced through her sons' complaints, but her expression was already stiff with suppressed fury.
Xi Jiayi lowered her lashes, her eyes moving across the hall, and only then did she notice the one figure absent from this storm—her father's.
Of course.
Qin Guohai had not stayed to welcome her back. He must have gone to the company early, simply to avoid this moment. Why wouldn't he? She was nothing more than an accident—an unwanted child whose existence remained an ugly stain upon the Qin family name. A mistake he could neither acknowledge nor erase.
Her thought dissolved when her stepmother's gaze fixed on her. Song Huifei's lips curled faintly as if even looking at Jiayi soiled her eyes. "Go to your room," she ordered, her voice clipped with restrained fury, disgust tightly coiled beneath her words.
Xi Jiayi did not move. She lifted her gaze calmly, meeting the woman's glare without a word.
The stillness stretched, and Song Huifei's brows knitted. To her, this silence was nothing less than defiance. She drew in a sharp breath, ready to unleash a reprimand.
But Xi Jiayi's voice, even and unhurried, broke through first.
"Where is my room?"
The question froze the air.
Song Huifei's eyes narrowed, the ridges of her jaw tightening, but before she could speak, a firm, steady voice came from the side.
"This way, Second Miss."
The speaker, Butler Wen, had served the Qin family since before Song Huifei married into it. Though his hair had whitened with age, his back remained straight, his tone formal yet respectful.
The words "Second Miss" fell like a pebble into still water, and the ripples spread instantly. Song Huifei's face stiffened. Her sons glanced at each other, their frowns deepening. To call Xi Jiayi "Second Miss" was to recognize her standing as Qin Guohai's daughter, an acknowledgment Song Huifei had spent years trying to erase.
But Butler Wen did not so much as flinch beneath her glare. He bowed slightly and stepped forward to guide Xi Jiayi.
Xi Jiayi inclined her head and followed. Her footsteps were measured, her back straight, every movement restrained yet unyielding.
As she ascended the staircase, the voices below began again.
"Mother, why bring her back? She doesn't belong here!" Qin Jiahao's voice carried the shrill pitch of youth.
"She has no place in this family. She ha already left this house once! Why come back now?" Qin Yichen added, his tone sharper, laced with accusation.
Song Huifei's reply came clipped, biting.
"Enough! Jiahao, you focus on your studies. And Yichen—if you have time to complain, then take it to the company and assist your elder brother instead. I won't hear another word."
No explanation. No justification.
Because she had none.
The elders had intervened, pressing for Xi Jiayi's return. Qin blood could not be discarded so easily—not when the family name still mattered in the eyes of those who held power. Song Huifei might have sent her away once, but this time, she could not oppose them. Even as the mistress of the Qin household, she had limits.
And Butler Wen, loyal to the family before loyal to her, was beyond her control.
The argument below faded as Xi Jiayi stepped onto the second floor. Butler Wen stopped before a plain white door and pushed it open.
"Second Miss, this will be your room."
Inside, the chamber was spotless but stripped bare. Pale grey walls, a white ceiling, a bed neatly made, a wardrobe, and a simple study table. No ornate carvings, no lavish décor. Compared to the opulence of the Qin estate, this room looked cold, sterile, and ordinary.
Butler Wen lingered at the door, his voice carrying a note of guilt. "This room has been prepared in haste. I will see to it that a few more furnishings are added for your comfort. If there is anything else you require, Second Miss, please tell me."
Xi Jiayi's eyes swept once over the space, finally settling on the east-facing balcony where faint streams of sunlight filtered in. A bed, a cupboard, a desk, and the light of the morning sun—that was all she needed.
She shook her head. "No."
Her voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that silenced the air.
For a moment, Butler Wen looked as though he wished to say more. But in the end, he only bowed low. "Very well, Second Miss. I shall have someone call you for the meal later."
He withdrew, closing the door softly behind him.
Alone, Xi Jiayi walked to the balcony and pushed open the glass doors. Warm sunlight brushed against her skin. She stood still, gaze calm, her heart untouched by the storm that raged below.
Her grandmaster's words echoed in her mind: Patience and restraint will guard you.
Xi Jiayi's lips curved faintly, though there was no smile. But there is nothing to be patient about, not to restrain. For there is nothing here that can stir my heart again.