The Stomach is an Emotional Organ

Yet it struck like a thousand-pound hammer, slamming violently into Luo Shuning’s heart, shaking her entire being to the core.

Her heartbeat spiraled out of control, pounding wildly in her chest.

The joy and guilt that had lingered in her heart moments ago were instantly swallowed whole by sheer terror.

From what Ximan had just said, it seemed Shuling had suddenly brought up their childhood.

But why now, of all times?

It’s over.

Everything is over.

At the same time, Luo Shuhe paused mid-bite of her porridge, then slowly raised her head, casting a complicated glance toward the second floor.

Shuling, must you go this far?

Is this really necessary?

For the sake of that unrealistic obsession, are you determined to turn this already fragile household upside down?

Even if Gu Luo learns about the past, what difference would it make?

It doesn’t matter now.

The tangled web of emotions is already a mess—dragging up old grievances will only add unnecessary pain.

Gu Ximan, dressed in her crisp school uniform, came bounding down the stairs in a flurry. As she neared the last three steps, she leaped down with a skip, waving a photo excitedly in her hand.

"Hey, Gu Luo, you were the neighborhood’s little troublemaker back then! You might’ve even met Ling-jie and the others way before!"

"Do you remember?"

Hearing this, Gu Luo’s expression turned complicated.

Shuning clearly didn’t want to bring up the past, but with Ximan already mentioning it, he couldn’t just brush it off in front of the others.

With that in mind, he pulled out his phone and flipped to a photo he’d taken the day before, smiling faintly.

"I was just about to mention this. Yesterday, I found an old photo of Shuning and me as kids in the family album. Neither of us really remembers it, though."

"Maybe I’ve met Shuhe and Shuling too."

For now, he could only keep it vague.

Behind him, Luo Shuning stood frozen, her face pale with despair. Her body swayed almost imperceptibly, as if the next wave of guilt and fear would drown her completely.

Now, she could only await Luo Shuhe’s judgment.

She, Luo Shuning, was a liar.

Meanwhile, Luo Shuhe stared blankly at the childhood photo of herself and Gu Luo on his phone.

Why was this photo in their family album?

Why did Gu Luo say it was a picture of him and Shuning?

Unless…

Her mind raced as she forced herself to stay composed, stealing a glance at Luo Shuning’s ashen face.

Then, connecting it to Ximan’s earlier words—"Ling-jie and the others when we were kids…"

It was obvious—Luo Shuling had planted the photo in the album, Shuning had lied and claimed the girl in it was her, and now Shuling had deliberately brought it up through Ximan.

Shuning. Shuling.

Was it worth it?

Was any of this really worth it?

How did the three of us sisters end up like this?

Luo Shuhe understood her sister’s desperation.

After all, just days ago, she had issued a challenge, declaring she’d "devour Gu Luo whole" to push Shuning into confessing her feelings.

To avoid any mishaps before Sunday, Shuning had resorted to this—claiming the photo as her own.

She also understood her younger sister’s motives.

Shuling, watching Shuning and Gu Luo on the verge of becoming official, would stop at nothing to disrupt things for the sake of her own delusional obsession.

Dragging their childhood into the light was her way of muddying the waters.

At the very least, she wanted to slow their progress.

But Shuhe never expected Shuning to outright impersonate her.

Oh, sister…

Why?

If you’d just told the truth—or even feigned ignorance—Gu Luo would’ve let it slide for now.

What a hopeless fool.

A sigh escaped her.

In the end, she was the one who’d pressured Shuning too much.

Love with Gu Luo was like poison—it had changed her, and now it was changing her sister.

All three of them were trapped in this quagmire, unable to break free.

The cruelest part? She’d already decided to step aside, to let Shuning have her happiness—yet Shuling was still scheming to overturn everything.

Gu Ximan, now beside Gu Luo, gasped at the photo. "Wow! I knew it! When I saw Ning-jie and He-jie’s childhood pics yesterday, they felt so familiar—like I’d seen them before!"

"We really did meet as kids!"

"Fate really brought us all together, huh?"

Gu Luo smiled softly. "Yeah, it really did."

Meanwhile, Luo Shuning couldn’t bring herself to look at Shuhe, her fingers trembling as she prepared to confess everything.

But just then—

"Sister and Gu Luo really are fated," Luo Shuhe said calmly. "I’m sure Shuling and I met him back then too."

"But what’s past is past. We can always revisit it another day."

Shuling, did you think I’d rage? That I’d break down, expose Shuning here and now?

Did you think I’d seize this chance to shove her aside and claim Gu Luo for myself?

No.

You underestimate my love for him—and his love for her.

For his sake, this is nothing.

—My feelings aren’t yours to meddle with.

Huh—?!

Luo Shuning jolted as if yanked back from hell.

She stared at Shuhe in disbelief.

Why?

Why not expose her?

Just two days ago, they’d been at each other’s throats—so why this mercy now?

"Sister," Shuhe continued smoothly, "I’m craving sweet tomato scrambled eggs for lunch."

"Ah—! O-okay!"

Shuning snapped back to reality, hastily turning toward the kitchen.

She needed solitude—desperately—to steady herself.

Seeing this, Gu Luo moved to follow, but Shuhe rose gracefully. "Brother, stay seated. I’ll get breakfast. You and Sister shouldn’t always be the ones serving us."

"...Alright."

After a pause, Gu Luo nodded.

He knew the sisters had unresolved childhood tensions. Ximan’s innocent remark must’ve reopened old wounds.

Some space was necessary.

The memory of Shuhe embracing Shuning in the bedroom flashed in his mind.

After Sunday, he’d find a way to address this properly.

As Shuhe neared the kitchen, she suddenly turned, locking eyes with Luo Shuling, who’d been silently observing from the corner.

Their gazes met—brief, wordless—before both looked away.

Inside the kitchen, the moment Shuning saw her sister, tears spilled over.

"I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Shuhe…" she whispered, voice breaking. "This is my fault… I… I…"

Shuhe watched her silently.

She wanted to cry too.

But not yet.

Not now.

Finally, she could only let out a soft sigh in her heart before stepping forward, reaching out to wipe Luo Shuning’s tears. "Alright, pull yourself together. You don’t want your brother to see you like this, do you?"

"But... but... I... you..."

Luo Shuning was like a child caught cheating on a test—flustered, wanting to confess everything yet terrified of the consequences.

"Stop. No more crying."

Luo Shuhe’s voice was icy, but seeing Luo Shuning freeze, she softened her tone. "What’s done is done. Even if Brother knew everything, he’d still choose Sister without hesitation."

"What you need to do now is calm down and make me the sweetest tomato and egg stir-fry."

"Okay?"

Luo Shuning rubbed her reddened eyes. "...Okay."

She immediately turned away, splashing cold water on her face before cracking eggs into a bowl.

Luo Shuhe quietly arranged the bland-smelling sandwiches on a plate, but after just two steps toward the kitchen door, she had to stop. Leaning against the wall with one hand, she hunched slightly, her face twisted in pain.

Her stomach—it hurt.

It hurt so much. She wanted to vomit.

Turns out, when pain reaches its peak, it really does twist your gut.

Those childhood memories with Gu Luo were the softest, most treasured corner of her heart—her salvation.

Now, she was handing them over willingly. This agony, like carving out her own heart, was beyond words.

But there was no choice.

She had to endure.

She must endure.

Luo Shuhe bit her lower lip, fighting back the rising nausea. After several steadying breaths, she carried the sandwiches out of the kitchen.

Then, she ladled bowls of century egg and lean pork congee for everyone.

Luo Shuling glanced at her own bowl, where only a few scraps of century egg floated, and sighed inwardly.

Only she knew what those memories meant to Luo Shuhe.

Yet, she never imagined Luo Shuhe would go this far—sacrificing herself for Luo Shuning and Gu Luo.

But.

It was pointless.

If Luo Shuning dared to act, she should be prepared to pay the price.

No one could stop her from punishing Luo Shuning.

"Eat up before it gets cold. This is also Sister’s wish," Luo Shuhe said, forcing down the churning in her stomach as she scooped a spoonful of plain congee and brought it to her lips.

She swallowed mechanically, her face blank, fighting the urge to retch.

In truth, the stomach could be considered an "emotional organ."

It and the brain are intricately connected through complex neural pathways, forming what’s known as the "gut-brain axis."

The vagus nerve, one of the primary channels linking the two, doesn’t just relay sensations from the stomach to the brain—it also carries the brain’s commands back down.

Pain.

A relentless current, flowing from brain to gut.

Luo Shuhe kept her head down, eating quietly, bite after tiny bite.

Chewing, swallowing—expressionless, mechanical, like a puppet on strings.

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