With a resounding crash, the bottle shattered. Liquor and blood streamed down, blurring Si Ning’s vision. It all happened in a flash, too fast for anyone to react. No one could have imagined Si Ning would turn on herself with such viciousness. “Ning!” Si Yang’s pupils contracted. He lunged forward, catching Si Ning as she swayed. “What the hell are you doing?!” he snarled. The girl would rather smash a bottle over her own head than apologize. Where did she get that stubborn streak? Si Ning sagged against her brother, catching her breath. She glared at Lu Jingchi. “Is that enough? If not, I can go again.” She reached for another bottle, but Si Yang grabbed her hand, stopping her. Now Si Yang was furious. His eyes bloodshot, he stared down Lu Jingchi. “Lu Jingchi, we’ve known each other for nearly thirty years. Are you really going to push this to a point of no return tonight?” This was the scene that greeted Jiang Lan when she walked in. She rushed to Si Ning’s side, and the sight of the blood on her friend’s forehead made guilt flash in her eyes, tears instantly welling. Si Ning saw her and asked weakly, “What are you doing here?” Lu Jingchi’s brow furrowed. “Who told you to come?” From the corner, Fang Qi stammered, “I… I called her.” Jiang Lan’s gaze shifted to Lu Jingchi, then to Xia Yan at his side. They sat so close, a picture-perfect couple. She strode towards Xia Yan. Xia Yan immediately clutched Lu Jingchi’s arm—whether out of fear or to stake her claim, it was unclear. Lu Jingchi’s brow tightened, his eyes tracking Jiang Lan’s every step. Jiang Lan stopped before Xia Yan, who tilted her chin up, meeting her gaze with open provocation. After a beat, Jiang Lan bowed deeply. Her hands moved, forming the signs: *I’m sorry. This is all my fault. Please forgive me, Ms. Xia.* Xia Yan glanced away, stealing a look at Lu Jingchi’s expression. Aside from his tightly furrowed brow, his face was unreadable. “What’s all that gesturing? I can’t understand a thing,” Xia Yan muttered, dripping with disdain. She could understand, of course. After knowing Jiang Lan for so long, she could recognize the basics. *I’m sorry* was the sign Jiang Lan used most often. She was just pretending. Xia Yan thought it would be better if things escalated, ideally to the point where Lu Jingchi and Si Yang became sworn enemies. If word of that got out, who in all of Lin'an would dare to look down on her? Jiang Lan bit her lip and turned to Lu Jingchi, her eyes pleading. Lu Jingchi said nothing, the chilling aura around him intensifying. She moved to his side and knelt, tugging at his sleeve—not a coquettish gesture, but a desperate entreaty. When Si Ning saw this, she tried to stand, but Si Yang held her back, pressing a tissue to her wound as blood quickly soaked through. Xia Yan also tightened her grip on Lu Jingchi’s arm, terrified he might go soft on the mute girl. She tilted her face upward, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes, the very picture of misery. Jiang Lan raised her hands again. *Jingchi, I’ll quit my job. I’ll never go back. Just please, don’t make things hard for Si Ning. Please?* Lu Jingchi’s eyes were fixed on her slender fingers. He remembered when she had first started learning sign language. He had asked her what that specific sign—his name—meant. She had told him it meant *brother*. But only she knew the truth. It was his name. She had never, not once, called him brother. The private room fell into a terrifying silence, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. All eyes were on Jiang Lan, watching her debase herself before Lu Jingchi, watching her utter humiliation in front of her rival.