Sister 02

Fang Zhiyi pushed the door open and happened to see his mother speaking with a matchmaker.

"Our son—his looks, his talents—they're all excellent. Please do your best to negotiate. The bride price is simply too high," his mother said.

The matchmaker looked up and froze for a moment. "Oh! So this is your young master? Truly a fine figure of a man!"

Fang Zhiyi shot her a sidelong glance and made to leave.

His mother frowned in confusion. "Zhiyi, where are you going? We're discussing your marriage to Little Yue!" She paused, her tone turning resentful. "It's all because of that worthless sister of yours. She couldn’t even get money from the Huangs."

The matchmaker laughed awkwardly.

Fang Zhiyi glanced at her. "Cancel it."

"What?" His mother was stunned.

Fang Zhiyi repeated, "I don’t like that girl anymore. No marriage. That’s it. I’m leaving."

With that, he strode off, leaving his mother and the matchmaker gaping at each other.

Fang Zhiyi didn’t know the way—the original owner of this body had rarely visited the Huang household—so he had to ask for directions. By afternoon, he finally arrived.

Without hesitation, he knocked on the gate. After a long pause, the door creaked open a crack.

A wrinkled face peered out from behind it, scrutinizing him.

"You're..." Old Man Huang suddenly realized. "Fang Zhiyi, isn’t it? Here to see your sister?" Though he spoke, his body remained blocking the entrance.

"Your sister isn’t feeling well. She’s resting. Come back another—"

BANG! The metal gate was kicked open, sending Old Man Huang sprawling onto the ground. "Y-you! What are you doing?!"

Fang Zhiyi looked down at him like he was a bug. "Nothing much. Just visiting family." He swaggered inside. Huang Minhao wasn’t home—only the old couple was present.

The commotion at the door drew Old Mrs. Huang. Seeing her husband on the ground, she wailed, "You little brat! What are you doing here? You dare come to our house and attack us?!"

Ignoring her, Fang Zhiyi barged into the house. After searching two rooms, he finally found Fang Zhaodi, her eye bruised black.

The siblings locked eyes. Fang Zhaodi instinctively turned her face away.

"Why are you here? Did Mother send you to get money?" Her voice was cold. Ever since her parents’ last visit, she had seen their true colors.

Fang Zhiyi spread his hands, putting on a shameless grin. "Exactly! If I don’t get the money, I’m not leaving."

Fang Zhaodi bit her lip. "I don’t have any. You should go..." The cries from the courtyard amplified the fear in her heart.

Fang Zhiyi dragged a stool over and planted himself by the door. "Nope. No money, no leaving."

"You—!" Fang Zhaodi’s voice was weak, even when angry.

"Did they hit you?" Fang Zhiyi asked abruptly, watching Old Mrs. Huang slapping her thighs and cursing outside, while Old Man Huang rubbed his backside.

Fang Zhaodi subconsciously touched her face but said nothing. There was no point.

"Get out of here!" Old Mrs. Huang’s voice was hoarse from screaming, but since the Huangs were always making a scene, no neighbors came to check. She charged at Fang Zhiyi.

Just as she was about to grab him, Fang Zhiyi sidestepped. Old Mrs. Huang stumbled and fell face-first.

"Oh? Bowing to me now?" Fang Zhiyi taunted.

Old Mrs. Huang scrambled up as Old Man Huang rushed over. "Fang boy, what the hell are you here for?"

Fang Zhiyi replied coldly, "Nothing much. My parents think the bride price isn’t enough. Sent me to collect."

"What?!" Old Mrs. Huang shrieked. "That worthless girl of yours isn’t worth another penny!"

Fang Zhiyi grabbed a firewood axe leaning against the wall. In one swift motion, he drove it into the ground inches from Old Mrs. Huang’s face. Silence fell. Even Old Man Huang froze in terror.

They had heard Fang’s youngest son was spoiled rotten, but they never expected him to barge into their home and act like a thug.

"If I hear those three words from your mouth again, next time I won’t miss," Fang Zhiyi threatened.

Old Mrs. Huang opened her mouth—then clamped it shut at the sight of the axe.

Fang Zhiyi turned back to his sister. She was staring at him, stunned and confused.

"I’m hungry. Go make food. My sister married into your family, so we’re kin now. Is this how you treat family?" Fang Zhiyi’s lazy, mocking tone was infuriating. Old Man Huang hesitated, then helped his wife up, and the two scurried off.

"You should leave. They’re going to report you to the authorities," Fang Zhaodi finally said.

"Report me?" Fang Zhiyi scoffed. "It’s just a family dispute. What’ll the authorities do?"

Fang Zhaodi stiffened. The words sounded familiar—Huang Minhao had said the same when beating her. Even if you report it, no one will care. It’s a family matter.

"See? People only bully the weak. Everyone’s got one head on their shoulders," Fang Zhiyi said. He placed the axe beside Fang Zhaodi and walked out.

Fang Zhaodi stared at the weapon, lost in thought.

What does he mean?

She lifted her arm, revealing scars old and new. After a long pause, she still didn’t reach for the axe.

The old couple soon returned with a constable and a crowd of villagers eager for drama. But when they entered the courtyard, everyone froze.

A young man stood there, an apron tied around his waist. A table was set in the yard, laden with steaming dishes.

Fang Zhiyi blinked at the crowd. "Uncle, Auntie, where’d you run off to? Didn’t you say we were eating?"

The constable glanced at the food, then at the Huangs, baffled.

"You—you faking kindness! You broke in and attacked us!" Old Mrs. Huang screeched.

Fang Zhiyi looked wounded. "I did no such thing. Let’s be clear—I knocked, Uncle Huang let me in, I visited my sister, she invited me to stay for dinner. You got upset, rushed at me, tripped, and when I tried to help, you cursed at me. Right?"

Old Man Huang gaped. Fang Zhiyi’s innocent act almost made him doubt his own memory.

"Ah, so Old Mrs. Huang can’t stand her daughter-in-law’s brother, fell on her own, and now she’s blaming him."

"Figures. I knew the Huangs wouldn’t let some kid show them up."

Luckily, the Huangs had a bad reputation. The constable’s expression darkened.

Old Mrs. Huang, seeing the skeptical looks, flushed with rage. "You little bastard!"