He Hanchuan radiated a commanding aura, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through any lie. A flicker of panic crossed Jiang Qingran’s eyes. She took a step back, her movement stiff, and said in a fragile voice, “Yes. Xiang Wan said that if my brother breaks up with Song Qiao, she’ll agree to be with him.” He Hanchuan scoffed, an icy chill filling his gaze. He should have known. Two years weren't enough to change who she really was. “Hanchuan,” Jiang Qingran said, her voice laced with pain as she recalled the scene from before. “Xiang Wan is entangled with my brother while still trying to string you along. She's so… indecent. Who knows what kind of diseases she might have? You should really keep your distance from her.” The word ‘indecent’ made the chill in He Hanchuan’s eyes deepen. “Who I keep my distance from is none of your business.” Jiang Qingran’s eyes instantly turned red. “Hanchuan, I was just worried about you. I didn't mean anything else.” Her eyes brimmed with tears, a picture of delicate sorrow. He Hanchuan’s cold gaze bored into her, and he remained silent. “Hanchuan, I'm really just doing this for your own good,” she said, biting her lip, her voice a fragile whisper of helplessness. “I know exactly what you're after.” He Hanchuan strode past her toward the door, a flicker of disgust in his eyes. “Don't try your pathetic little schemes on me.” In an instant, all the color drained from Jiang Qingran’s face. She wanted to say more, but he was already gone, his long strides carrying him out the door. Leaning on her crutch, she looked down at her useless left leg, her pretty face contorting in a mixture of pain and spite. “Hanchuan,” she whispered, “I've given up so much for you. Why can't you see it?” * Xiang Wan returned to her dorm room and leaned back against the door, her eyes empty and vacant. A moment passed before she seemed to remember something, and she began to scrub furiously at her bleeding lip. As she scrubbed, tears began to fall, mixing with the blood and trickling into her mouth—a bitter, coppery taste. She sat numbly on the floor for more than ten minutes before dragging her aching body into bed. She had no time for tears. In six hours, she had to get up and go back to work. But tonight was destined to be anything but peaceful. Not long after she lay down, a searing pain burned through her stomach. “What's wrong?” Zhou Miao asked, pushing the door open. She startled at the sight of Xiang Wan’s deathly pale face. Xiang Wan forced a twitch of her lips, her voice raspy with pain. “It’s nothing. Just my ulcer acting up.” “If your ulcer's acting up, you need medicine! You can't just tough it out.” Zhou Miao reached out and pulled her up. “There's a pharmacy nearby. I'll go with you.” “Thanks.” * They had just bought the medicine and were about to hail a cab when a voice suddenly called out, “Wanwan?” The voice was so familiar. Xiang Wan’s pupils constricted, her lips trembling. “Wanwan, is it really you?” A handsome man who bore a striking resemblance to her walked over, clapping her on the shoulder in delight. Xiang Wan's lips twitched. She wanted to call him ‘Brother,’ but it felt like something was caught in her throat, and no words would come out. “I'll wait over there,” Zhou Miao said. Xiang Wan nodded. “Why didn't you call me when you got out?” Xiang Yu asked, his gaze fixed on her alarmingly thin frame. His eyes were filled with unconcealed heartache and guilt. Years ago, to save themselves, the Xiang family had abandoned her. He had begged them, pleaded with them, but they had locked him up. He’d been powerless, forced to watch as she was sent to prison. Xiang Wan tucked a ragged strand of hair behind her ear, her throat dry. “I didn't get the chance.” She had planned to see her family one last time, in secret, and then end her life. But on the way, she had run into He Hanchuan. A gust of autumn wind swept by, carrying a chill, and she instinctively shrank into herself. The next moment, a suit jacket was draped over her shoulders. “Why aren't you wearing more if you're cold? And what's with this outfit? The last I remember, only cleaning ladies wore clothes like these. When did your taste get so bad?” Xiang Wan lowered her gaze, hiding the look in her eyes. “I am a cleaner now. This is my uniform.” Xiang Yu froze, his face a mask of disbelief. His little sister—the princess their family had doted on, the girl who could do whatever she wanted without a care in the world—was working as a cleaner?