Song Huifei turned to Qin Yichen as if the matter was settled. "You'll accompany her to fill out the admission paperwork. Make sure everything is handled properly."
That snapped him out of his silence.
"Me?" Qin Yichen's tone was incredulous. His chair scraped back harshly as he stood. "You want me to escort her to school? What kind of joke is this?"
"You're the elder," Song Huifei said, calm but unyielding. "It's your responsibility."
Qin Yichen's laugh was bitter, sharp. "Responsibility? She's a dropout, an embarrassment. And you want me—me—to walk into a school with her like some… guardian?"
His hands curled into fists at his sides. "What will people say? That Second Young Master Qin has nothing better to do than babysit a stray?"
"Yichen." Song Huifei didn't raise her voice, but the weight in it cut his words short. Her gaze pinned him, steady and commanding.
His jaw worked, teeth grinding, but he said nothing further.
Qin Yuxi intervened gently, smoothing over the tension. "Mother is right. If the servants handle it, it'll only fuel gossip among the elders. This is the least we can do to show she's accepted into the family."
Accepted.
The word hit Xi Jiayi like a mockery.
Her lips curved faintly, but her eyes held a dazed confusion she couldn't quite hide.
"Why high school…" The words slipped out before she could stop them. Quiet, almost to herself, but in the silence of the hall they carried.
Qin Jiahao slammed his hand against the table. "See? Even she thinks it's ridiculous! Mother, why must you force—"
"Enough." Song Huifei's voice was like steel.
"And you," Song Huifei turn to Xi Jiayi, her voice sharpened. "What? Do you have an opinion?"
Xi Jiayi swallowed her disbelief, forcing her face blank. "No." Her voice was even, but the stiffness gave her away.
Still, she lowered herself into the chair as told, the wooden legs scraping against the polished floor.
Song Huifei's gaze swept once more across the table, landing firmly on Qin Yichen.
"That's enough. You'll take Xi Jiayi to Imperial Glory High. The paperwork will be filled, the admission settled. It is final."
The name struck a chord.
Xi Jiayi blinked, a flicker of recognition breaking through her otherwise detached composure.
Imperial Glory High?
Her lips parted faintly, but the words caught in her throat.
Across from her, Qin Yichen's face darkened further. He didn't argue again—Song Huifei's tone left no room—but his silence was dangerous, simmering. With a sharp scrape of chair legs against marble, he stood, movements clipped.
"Move." His voice cracked through the air like a whip, directed at Xi Jiayi. "I don't have the entire day to waste on you."
Xi Jiayi, however, had not moved an inch. Her gaze was fixed on the table—the untouched breakfast spread, the steam still curling from the teapot, the neat arrangement of dishes she hadn't had time to taste.
Her stillness only stoked his fury. "Are you deaf?" Qin Yichen's eyes narrowed, his tone harsher. "I said move."
---
Minutes later, the courtyard buzzed with the low hum of idling engines.
Qin Jiahao, schoolbag slung carelessly across his shoulder, bolted for another car like a prisoner sprinting for freedom.
"Oi!" Qin Yichen barked, suspicion sharpening his tone. "Where are you going?"
"Not riding with her." Qin Jiahao didn't even look back. He yanked the car door open and threw himself inside. "No way. People see me show up with her and my rep's done."