The gates of the villa swung open, and Song Xinya and Song Tingye stood in the sunlight, bright daylight covering them from head to toe.
Across from them, Song Xuanli, Li Cuirou, and Zhang Yingying stood in the shadow of the eaves, their bodies enveloped in darkness.
A clear line of light and shadow ran between the two groups, dividing them into two entirely different worlds.
Song Xinya and Song Tingye stood on higher ground, looking down at Song Xuanli, Li Cuirou, and Zhang Yingying.
In less than two months, the positions of these two groups had completely reversed.
Song Tingye looked contemptuously at his good-for-nothing father and aimed right at his weak spot: “You just said the words ‘please open the door for me,’ and you had the nerve to say you never beg anyone. Pfft, you still begged.”
“Starting now, I officially dub you, Sir Soft-Bones.”
“Hahahahahahahahaha.”
Song Xuanli’s face turned as black as ink as he put on a lecturing tone: “Show me one son who calls his own father Sir Soft-Bones.”
Song Tingye swayed his head, cocky and smug, his black hair rustling, the slant of his lips showing the unique arrogance of youth.
“You don’t like being called Sir Soft-Bones? Fine, I won’t call you that anymore. From now on, I’ll call you the Cotton Candy Warrior. Looks intimidating, but poke it once and it deflates, with a shadow that can’t even stand straight.”
“Hahahahahahahahaha.”
Song Xuanli’s face darkened even more, practically unreadable: “Fine, just fine. You’ve really learned well from your sister. Learned so well, in fact, that you’re cursing your own father just like she does.”
Song Tingye: “Give me a break. One moment it’s ‘your father,’ the next it’s ‘your dad.’ When you want to lecture or take advantage, suddenly you remember you’re our father. But normally, you don’t give a damn about us—not a penny, not a word of concern. You do none of the duties of a father, yet you want to enjoy the benefits of being one. Do you even deserve it? My own crap on the ground is more deserving than you!”
Li Cuirou, playing the role of Song Xuanli’s comfort, quickly stepped in to act the devoted wife and defend him: “Xiao Ye, you’ve misunderstood your father. He does care about you. When he’s home, he often talks about you.”
Song Tingye: “Talks crap about us, you mean.”
Zhang Yingying: “Father is such a good person—why would he talk crap about you? It’s more like you and your sister are the ones badmouthing us behind our backs. But fine, the past is the past. I won’t stoop to your level.”
Song Tingye: “Pretending to be a beautiful butterfly when you’re just a maggot. Ugh—you’re disgusting!”
Li Cuirou looked displeased seeing her daughter being insulted: “You’re not a three-year-old anymore. You should watch your mouth. Someone who spends all their time attacking others can’t be a good person. I suggest you forgive when you can.”
Song Tingye: “I’ll fight for every inch even when I’m wrong. Why should I let it slide when I’m right?”
He flicked his head back, his stray hair drawing a rebellious arc in the air: “Advising me? You must have way too much free time. Grandpa Yuan must have stuffed you too full.”
“Dum du-du-dum, dum du-du-dum, I don’t listen to old-timers’ whining—being happy is my own designing.”
Song Xuanli, Li Cuirou, and Zhang Yingying were completely defeated.
The three exchanged glances, their expressions screaming “we’re too mature to bother with a kid” (but really, they just couldn’t match Song Tingye’s sharp tongue).
They moved on to the matter of getting the Qin family to approve the bid document from the Song family.
After standing there so long, the three still hadn’t managed to get through the door.
Song Xuanli, Li Cuirou, and Zhang Yingying all looked longingly toward the villa.
Song Tingye lifted his chin toward them: “Want to come inside?”
Song Xuanli, Li Cuirou, and Zhang Yingying nodded: “Yes.”
Song Tingye reached out and slammed the door shut, bang: “Well, I’m not letting you in.”
After locking it from the inside, he spread his arms wide, a sunny smile lighting up his handsome face as he ran toward the garden.
The white shirt on his back billowed in the wind, turning translucent under the sunlight, his narrow waist faintly visible.
“Big bro’s here! Little princess, Little Cutie, Master Jin, stand up and welcome me!”
Qin Yuyan stood up from the ground, her hands in pink little gloves clutching a pink little hoe.
“Xiao Ye, what happened? Why are you so happy?”
Song Tingye: “I just let that scumbag cheap father, that old white lotus stepmother, and that little white lotus stepsister have a piece of my mind. I feel like I’m walking on clouds—every single cell in my body is dancing with joy.”
Qin Yuyan: “Oh, I missed it! Didn’t get to hear you curse—what a pity.”
Song Tingye: “Want me to curse you so you can hear it?”
Qin Yuyan: “No, thanks. I think I’ll pass.”
Song Tingye burst into a hearty laugh and tapped her on the nose with his finger.
Qin Yuyan leaned back: “Don’t touch my nose with your hand. You were digging in the dirt—your hands are dirty.”
Song Tingye: “My hands can’t be dirtier than your nose. There’s dust all over it.”
Qin Yuyan: “Really!”
The beauty-loving little princess couldn’t stand being dirty. Frantically, she said: “Xiao Ye, wipe it off for me.”
Song Tingye: “Come closer, lean in, and bring your face nearer.”
Qin Yuyan closed her eyes, her thick, curling lashes like tiny bent fans. Her skin was white and so delicate it seemed translucent, her nose small and perfect, her lips pink and soft. Eyes shut, her little palm-sized face moved toward him.
Song Tingye was reminded of a scene from a TV drama—when the female lead wanted the male lead to kiss her, that was exactly how she looked.
His gaze dropped to her supple pink lips.
Jin Ruizhi, watching it all from the side, glanced behind Song Tingye and then strode over to him, whispering: “Your sister’s here.”
Song Tingye, like a cat caught stealing cream, sprang back in shock.
Song Xinya’s voice came from behind him: “The moment things don’t go your way, you break into a wild wolf dance. What’s wrong with you?”
Song Tingye turned around, facing his sister, looking anywhere but into her eyes: “Sis, what brings you here?”
Song Xinya: “To see if you’re up to no good.”
Song Tingye: “What are you talking about? I’m the top student in the grade at this city’s best public school, a model student representative, and I give speeches at the opening ceremony. How could I do anything bad?”
Song Xinya: “Don’t brag like that street vendor flogging his own melons. Get back to weeding.”
Needing no more urging, Song Tingye dashed off to pull weeds.
Qin Yuyan walked up to Song Xinya: “Sis-in-law, there’s dust on my nose. Can you wipe it off?”
Song Xinya looked at her nose—perfectly clean, delicate, and small: “You’ve been tricked, little sister.”
Qin Yuyan: “Xiao Ye lied to me!”
She stormed over to Song Tingye, who was squatting on the ground, pulling weeds, his lean back arched like a bow.
Qin Yuyan plopped down onto his back: “Feel my mountain-crushing weight!”
The moment the soft curve of her bottom pressed against his back, it felt like a cloud. Then she settled her full weight on him, and he could feel the softness of her flesh and the outline of her bones.
Today’s sun was too harsh—it left Song Tingye dizzy and flustered.
“Qin Yuyan, don’t mess around!”
“I’m not messing around—I’m crushing you with my mountain weight!”
As if her puny weight could crush him—not even as heavy as a sack of rice.
Song Tingye: “Get up, don’t sit on my back.”
Qin Yuyan: “I’ll sit on your back, I’ll sit on your back, I’ll crush you.”
Song Tingye’s lips curled into a smile, bright and clear, shattering a handful of warm sunlight.
He let her sit on his back.
Let her ride him like a horse.
One teased, the other laughed.
When Qin Yuyan saw Song Xinya approaching, the spoiled little princess, used to ordering people around, blurted out: “Sister-in-law, I’m thirsty. Get me a piece of watermelon.”
Song Xinya grabbed Qin Yuyan by the neck, lifting her up like a little chick: “Who told you to sit on a man? Men and women should keep their distance—haven’t you heard that saying?”
Qin Yuyan: “Sister-in-law, I’m a bad student.”
Song Xinya: “A bad student, huh? Fine, you’ll do ten sets of math problems later.”
Qin Yuyan: “Sister-in-law, I have heard that saying about men and women keeping their distance.”
Song Xinya: “From now on, keep your distance from any man. Don’t let any man touch your body.”
Qin Yuyan blinked with big, watery eyes and obediently said, “Okay.”
But inside, she thought to herself: If men aren’t allowed to touch me, I can still touch them!
