Nan Siya’s eyes widened, her face turning pale with fury. "You! What did you just say...?"
"If I were you, I’d know my place instead of making a fool of myself everywhere."
Sang Ning couldn’t be bothered to waste more words on her. Today, she had finally received the treatment befitting the eldest daughter of the Nan family, and her mood was rather good.
Nan Siya’s frantic search for confrontation was undoubtedly over the extra 300,000 yuan in allowance she had taken—but what Sang Ning wanted was far more than just pocket money.
She had never minded Nan Siya continuing to hold the title of the Nan family’s second daughter. Having an extra half-sister was hardly a big deal.
As for familial affection? The more powerful the family, the thinner the bonds of kinship. Even in the Xie Family, she had never placed much importance on blood ties, let alone here in the Nan household.
She turned to return to her room.
Nan Siya stood rooted to the spot, glaring at her with an expression so twisted it was almost unrecognizable. The words "handed over to you" seemed to strike the most sensitive nerve in her—the love of her parents, her greatest pride, was nothing more than charity in Nan Sangning’s eyes?!
Nan Siya’s nails dug deep into her palms, her hatred distorting her face. Was she really going to stand by and watch Nan Sangning rise step by step in the Nan family, surpassing her own status?
Impossible!
Her eyes darkened with malice, and without hesitation, she lunged forward.
Sang Ning sensed the sudden movement behind her and turned just in time to see Nan Siya charging at her. She raised her hands defensively to push her away, but Nan Siya suddenly seized her wrist and let out a piercing scream.
"Ah!"
Then, she staggered backward, missed her footing on the stairs, and tumbled down the curved staircase.
Nan Siya’s shrieks echoed through the grand hall, quickly drawing attention.
"Siya!"
Wen Meiling rushed out of her room in a panic, sprinting toward her fallen daughter.
Nan Zhenming hurried over as well. "What happened?!"
Nan Siya lay on the ground, her forehead scraped and bleeding, her entire appearance disheveled and pitiful. Trembling, she clung to Wen Meiling, her voice trembling with fear. "Mom, Sister... she’s terrifying."
"I just wanted to get closer to her. I know she hates me, and I even apologized, but she... she said unless I die, I can never make up for it."
As she spoke, her eyes reddened again, tears streaming down her face in helpless distress.
Wen Meiling looked up at Sang Ning in disbelief, unable to fathom how her own flesh and blood could be so cruel.
Nan Zhenming shot to his feet, glaring at Sang Ning, who still stood on the staircase. "I always knew you were cold-hearted, but I never imagined someone so young could be this vicious! Your grandfather has already given you privileges beyond Siya’s—what more do you want? Are you trying to kill her now?!"
Sang Ning remained on the upper floor, her gaze indifferent as she observed the scene below.
Her icy detachment only fueled Nan Zhenming’s fury, his tone turning venomous. "Don’t think just because you’ve schemed your way into Old Madam He’s favor and earned your grandfather’s attention, you can do whatever you please. If I’d known you’d turn out like this, I’d have never brought you back."
The words sounded familiar. Sang Ning remembered hearing something similar when she was five.
Back then, her half-sister had "accidentally" been "pushed" into the pond while playing with her.
Her father had pointed at her nose and roared, "You call yourself the legitimate eldest daughter? The face of this family’s honor? And yet you stoop to such petty cruelty against your own sister! How could I have a daughter like you?"
Little five-year-old Sang Ning had cried in fear, begging for forgiveness, insisting it had been an accident.
Her father’s furious expression and disappointed eyes had felt like a thousand arrows piercing her heart.
But now, Sang Ning faced Nan Zhenming’s scorn with utter indifference.
Nan Zhenming was right about one thing—she was indeed cold-blooded.
Over a decade of growth had honed her into someone poised, dignified, and exceptional in every way. She had even earned the reputation of being the finest young lady in Yanjing, a title worthy of the Xie Family’s legitimate eldest daughter. Her father had come to value her more over time.
But the naive attachment of childhood had long since withered away. Faced with this familiar yet distant scene, she didn’t know what emotion to feign.
Because right now, she felt nothing at all.
Perhaps it was the sheer calm in Sang Ning’s eyes, the chilling detachment, that sent a ripple of genuine fear through Nan Siya’s heart.
Wen Meiling, sensing Nan Siya’s trembling, held her tighter, as if to shield her.
Nan Zhenming met Sang Ning’s frosty gaze and faltered slightly, an uneasy shiver running down his spine.
Sang Ning spoke evenly. "It was my mistake. I’ll be more careful next time."
Nan Siya’s eyes widened in disbelief. She had just... admitted it? Just like that?
She had expected Nan Sangning to fight tooth and nail to defend herself, to rage and scream, even to accuse her of scheming.
But Nan Sangning hadn’t uttered a single word in protest. She had simply accepted the blame.
Nan Zhenming and Wen Meiling were equally stunned. How could Sang Ning so casually acknowledge such a crime?
Her composure was chilling.
"Madam, the doctor is here!" Aunt Chen hurried in with the physician.
With blood still trickling from Nan Siya’s forehead, Wen Meiling had no time to dwell on anything else. She helped her daughter up. "Quick, let the doctor tend to her wound!"
The doctor followed with his medical kit.
Nan Zhenming shot Sang Ning one last glare before rushing after them.
The grand hall fell into silence.
Sang Ning turned away indifferently and retreated to her room.
She had learned at five that explanations were useless.
Struggling and arguing only made her a laughingstock. They had already decided it was her doing.
And she had learned another lesson back then—value mattered far more than truth.
At five, Concubine Xue had been the favorite, and her half-sister had been the beloved child. Her father had chosen to believe the version of events that suited him.
At fifteen, when her talents had earned her widespread acclaim and even a prestigious engagement with the Duke of Ning’s family, she had kicked that same half-sister into the lotus pond—and her father had once again believed the truth that served him best.
"It hurts!"
Nan Siya sobbed, tears streaming uncontrollably.
Wen Meiling held her down, her own eyes wet. "Hang in there, Siya. The doctor needs to disinfect and bandage the wound. You have to endure it."
"Mom, why do I have to suffer like this? Why does Sister treat me this way?" Nan Siya cried, her face drenched in misery.
Wen Meiling’s heart ached, but thoughts of Sang Ning left her conflicted. "She... she probably didn’t mean to."
After all, Sang Ning was her own daughter. She couldn’t help but feel guilty, unwilling to believe she would intentionally do something so cruel.
Nan Siya clutched Wen Meiling’s hand. "Mom, do you really think I’m lying about Sister?"
