During the first few years of knowing Yu Chizhou, Chen Er didn’t want a brother.

During the years that followed, Chen Er didn’t want Yu Chizhou to be her brother.

On a typhoon-stricken day, Chen Er followed her mother into the Yu household.

Drenched to the bone and shivering, she hid behind the adults, looking as fragile and pitiful as a white flower.

Urged repeatedly by the elders, she finally whispered a greeting to the boy sitting on the sofa: “Brother.”

The boy responded with nothing but a cold, mocking sneer.

At that time, he had no idea that this “delicate little flower”—who looked like she would snap at a touch—would eventually play the long game. Step by step, she would maneuver her way into his heart until the day she finally pressed her heel against his chest.

With his necktie pulled tight and his breath nearly stifled, he let out a low laugh:

“Is this really how you treat your ‘brother’?”

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