Chapter 15 — Turns Out You Actually Like Me

Sister Han poured him a glass of milk, which he lifted to his lips for a single sip, though his gaze remained fiercely glued to our side of the table. I picked up a piece of bacon, hesitated for a fraction of a second, and placed it onto Cheng Che's plate instead. Cheng Che lowered his gaze, the corners of his mouth curving upward as he picked it up and ate it. My brother glared at Cheng Che with undisguised ferocity, his tone dripping with caustic sarcasm: “Oh, look at that! Your loyalty has started tilting outward before you've even left the nest, and you didn't even think to offer your good brother a single bite first, did you?”

“Oh, I just assumed you were too full of anger to eat anything else.”

My brother gnashed his teeth in exasperation: “Cheng Che, and you too, taking my little sister’s attentive service so serenely and without a shred of shame.” Cheng Che set down his chopsticks and said with utter seriousness: “Brother-in-law, taking care of one another is a two-way street.”

“Whose brother-in-law do you think you’re calling!” My brother slammed his hand against the table, causing the patrons at two adjacent tables to turn their heads in surprise.

Sister Han reached out and pressed her palm firmly over the back of his hand: “Liang Xiao, do try to maintain some semblance of dignity.” My brother instantly subsided, obeying with surprising docility, though his index finger shot out to point accusingly at Cheng Che through the empty air: “We will settle accounts when we get home.” Throughout the mountain hike, my brother monitored every single movement of Cheng Che and me with the vigilance of a hawk. Whenever the two of us drifted even a fraction of an inch closer together, he would immediately hack into a loud, dramatic fit of coughing as if stricken by a sudden, violent cold. By the time we descended the mountain, a fine, misty drizzle had begun to fall, rendering the steep mountain paths rather slick. My foot slipped and I nearly took a tumble, but Cheng Che’s reflexes were lightning fast as he reached out to steady my arm. This time, my brother merely spared us a sideways glance and uttered a single, resigned remark: “…Watch your step.” And just like that, I found myself legitimately and unapologetically holding Cheng Che’s hand. By the time we returned to the resort, the rain had cleared entirely. The twilight air in the courtyard felt cool, damp, and wonderfully refreshing; the distant mountain ranges were wreathed in delicate wisps of mist, while the dying rays of the setting sun filtered through the crevices of the clouds, bathing the entire courtyard in a warm, amber glow. My brother was seated on a rattan lounge chair in the middle of the courtyard, his legs crossed as he idly scrolled through his phone—a rare moment of tranquility for him. I dragged a small chair over and sat down right beside him: “Brother.”

“What?”

“Are you still struggling to accept reality?”

Without looking up, his fingers flicked lazily across the screen:

“…Accept what on earth is there to accept, you’re only nineteen years old.”

“You were the one who just said I’m nineteen, which means I’m hardly a little child anymore.”

He fell silent for a moment, finally lowering his phone to turn and look at me, his expression settling into a rare, uncharacteristic gravity:

“It’s not that I refuse to consent, it’s that I’m terrified you’ll end up getting hurt. Cheng Che might look amiable and easy to talk to on the surface, but beneath that exterior, his mind is infinitely more calculating than anyone else’s. You’ve always lacked a bit of common sense since you were a child; the day he sells you off, you’d probably still be cheerfully helping him count the money.”

“When have I ever lacked common sense… besides, you were the one who kept telling me Cheng Che was a good person.”

“Being friends and being romantic partners are two completely different realms!”

He sighed deeply, reaching out to ruffle my hair into a messy mop, “Fine, go ahead and give love a try. If he ever dares to treat you poorly, just come straight back and tell me; I will never let him off the hook.” Pausing for a moment, he added an extra warning: “However, you need to use your own head a little more too; don’t go falling in love and leave your brain behind entirely.” I leaned over and wrapped my arms tightly around his arm: “I knew my brother was the absolute best.”

“Spare me the theatrical act, it’s utterly nauseating.”

Cheng Che stepped out from the house, carrying two glasses of iced fruit tea. He handed one to me and the other to my brother. My brother took a sip, his features softening by a fraction, though he stubbornly maintained a chilly facade:

“Do you really think you can bribe me with a single glass of fruit tea?”

“Then I’ll add a hot pot dinner to the deal.”

“…When?”

“Whenever you like, as soon as we return to the city.”

My brother held the glass and pondered for two seconds before finally emitting a soft hum of approval: “Passable, I suppose you actually know how to read the room.” Han walked over from behind, leaning gently against my brother’s shoulder with a smile: “You’re only ever good at this kind of bargaining.”

“Those are two entirely different matters.”

That night, back in our room, I was sprawled lazily across the bed scrolling through my phone when a message from Cheng Che popped up:

“Your brother says we’re going out for hot pot next week.”