The night air clung heavy, carrying the faint scent of damp earth after the evening breeze. The Qin family's gates opened smoothly, the headlights of a sleek car cutting across the courtyard before dimming.
Qin Yichen stepped out first, jaw tight, the irritation still etched across his face. The collaboration with Cao Zhiyu had collapsed before it even started, and running into Gu Jianhong had been the final shove to his temper. He didn't even bother hiding the storm in his expression.
Secretary Du closed the car door behind him and fell into step, his usual calm indifference in place.
Just then, another vehicle rolled up the drive. Its brakes hissed softly, and a figure stepped down.
Xi Jiayi.
She moved slowly, her long hair falling forward as the faint light caught the bandage wrapped around her temple. She didn't look rushed, or apologetic, just tired but strangely composed.
Secretary Du inclined his head politely. "Miss Xi."
Her lips twitched faintly—half acknowledgment, half nothing at all. She started toward the steps, her shadow stretching long across the courtyard stones.
"Out wandering again?"
Xi Jiayi ignored him, her pace unhurried, her eyes cold.
"Really don't know where you belong, do you?" Qin Yichen's voice sliced through the quiet. "Running around the city at night like some stray… do you enjoy inviting trouble?"
Her tone was quiet, almost careless. "If it bothers you so much… stop looking."
The answer set his teeth on edge.
Without warning, he jabbed a finger against the bandage at her temple.
She flinched—sharp, instinctive—but bit back any sound.
"Does that hurt?" he asked, voice laced with mockery. "Maybe pain will teach you."
Her hand lifted, brushing his finger away, but her tone remained calm. "It's none of your business."
For a second, his chest tightened, an old irritation crawling under his skin. He stepped closer, words pressing like a blade.
"None of my business?"
His laugh was sharp, humorless. "Everything you do drags this family down. Do you know how furious my mother was last time you disappeared? Even my secretary heard the uproar. But you—" his gaze raked over her, cold and scornful, "—you walk around shamelessly, as if being an eyesore is a talent."
Her lips curved, faint but cutting. "Funny. For someone who doesn't care, you always seem to notice."
The retort slid under his skin like poison. His face hardened, and his voice dropped lower.
"You think I notice? Don't flatter yourself. You're nothing but dirt. Just like your mother—cheap and filthy."
The words landed heavy.
Xi Jiayi's eyes flickered, the shadow of hurt flashing before it was smothered. She straightened her shoulders. "Strange. For dirt, I seem to stay stuck under your skin."
The calmness of her reply, that faint hint of mockery—it burned worse than if she'd shouted.
Qin Yichen stared at her for a moment, anger pulsing hot, then turned sharply. Without another word, he pushed past her and into the house. The door slammed behind him, the echo ringing across the courtyard.
Silence followed.
Secretary Du stood beside the car, his face unreadable. He glanced once at Xi Jiayi—no judgment, no sympathy. Just a small bow before he slipped into the driver's seat. A moment later, the car rolled out of sight.
Xi Jiayi remained on the steps, her fingers brushing lightly over the bandage where he had jabbed. For a heartbeat, her lips tugged upward in something too thin to be a smile, too sharp to be sadness.
Above, hidden by curtains, Butler Wen had watched it all. His eyes lingered on the girl standing alone in the moonlight. Slowly, he exhaled, shaking his head. Then, quietly, he turned back into the shadows of the house.