Jiang Yichen hadn't come home all night, but Shi Yu felt no flicker of worry. She had no desire to know where he’d been; she was teaching herself not to care. Waking early, she made herself a simple breakfast, savoring the rare moment of peace in the quiet house. She wasn't due to tutor piano at the Qin residence until the afternoon, leaving her with a free morning—a rarity. The house was due for a cleaning, and as she considered the task, she realized she hadn't taken a proper day off in three years. After breakfast, she started on the house. Cleaning the vast Jiang residence was a monumental task, and it was nearly noon by the time she'd barely managed to finish the basement and the first floor. After a brief rest, she tackled Jiang Yichen's study. The study had been locked ever since Jiang Yichen left three years ago, so she had never set foot inside. But today, finding the door ajar, she decided it was time. As she pushed it open, a cloud of dust met her, thick enough to make her cough. She had to find a mask before continuing. Thankfully, the windows had been sealed tight, so the layer of grime on the floor wasn't as thick as she'd feared. She crossed the room and pushed open the French doors. Sunlight spilled in, chasing away the room's gloom and breathing life into the stagnant air. By the time she finished, it was already one in the afternoon. Exhausted, she sank into a chair, not wanting to move an inch. Her hand drifted to the bookshelf and pulled out a random volume. As she opened it, a single, yellowed sheet of paper fluttered to the floor. This was Jiang Yichen's study; everything in it was his, and not a single thing could be damaged. She scrambled to pick it up, but froze when she saw the title written at the top. It was an essay she’d written in the sixth grade: *My Brother*. She had no memory of tearing the page from her notebook, and certainly never expected to find it here, in his possession. The paper was yellowed with age, but her neat, girlish script was still legible. She’d always had good handwriting. But one detail made her breath catch: every instance of the word ‘brother’ had been crudely blacked out. Did he despise her that much? So much that he couldn’t even bear to see her call him brother, even in a childhood essay? The sound of footsteps downstairs startled her. She quickly folded the paper, shoved it into her pocket, and slid the book back into its place on the shelf. The moment she stepped out of the study, she came face to face with Jiang Yichen. She tensed. "I..." Jiang Yichen’s brow furrowed, his eyes cold. "Who gave you permission to go in there?" Her hands twisted the hem of her shirt. "I... I was just cleaning. It was so dusty, and I thought you might need to use it. It's done now. If you don't want me touching your things, I can hire someone from now on." He shoved her aside without a word and swept into the study. After a brief inspection, his expression softened fractionally. "I'll have someone clean it," he said, his voice flat. "This isn't your responsibility. Just because you live here doesn't make you the mistress of the house. Understand?" A humorless smile touched Shi Yu’s lips. "Perfectly. I have to go now." If it weren't for him, she thought, would she have developed such an impenetrable heart at her age? She had only taken a few steps when Jiang Yichen's voice cut through the air behind her. "Why do you need money so badly? Have I ever let you want for anything? Stop embarrassing me out there!" Her steps faltered, but she didn't turn back. "Thank you for taking care of me all these years," she said, her voice even. "But I'm an adult now. I have a job. I don't need your help anymore. It's honest work, and the money is clean. How is that embarrassing? My name is Shi, yours is Jiang. No one knows we're connected. Any shame I bring is my own, not yours."