Sister 015

"What?" Huang Minhao was momentarily dazed.

Xiao Qi, who had followed Fang Zhiyi, pulled out a pair of handcuffs. "New regulations—still in trial implementation, but you can serve as a cautionary example."

Huang Minhao struggled, but it was futile.

"According to the new regulations, your personal information will be made public, and you’ll undergo a year of mandatory labor reform. You have the right to remain silent—though even if you don’t, I’ll make sure you do," Fang Zhiyi grinned. "Oh, and by the way, my sister was the one who pushed for this law. Bet you didn’t see that coming? Your little stunt just added the final spark she needed."

"How…" Huang Minhao looked around desperately for help. His son, still sprawled on the ground, glared at him with pure hatred, while his father stood by, watching.

Fang Zhiyi glanced around too.

This old man sure has a long lifespan.

"Apprentice, what’s the sentence for attempted murder?"

Xiao Qi froze, then instinctively looked at the teenage boy. "A few years, but since he’s a minor…"

"Isn’t there juvenile detention?"

"That’s against protocol, Master," Xiao Qi muttered. "Ow! Why’d you kick me, Master?"

Fang Zhiyi sighed. This guy was hopeless—a rigid, by-the-book thinker. But as he watched Huang Wenhao struggle to his feet, he shook his head. Whatever.

If the victim wasn’t pressing charges, he might as well let it go.

Fang Nuan continued living her life diligently. When she learned that her ex-husband had become the first person punished under the new law, she paused for a few seconds. Then, hearing her brother’s name mentioned, she simply lowered her head and went back to reviewing her documents.

Huang Minhao served his year of labor reform. His guardian became Old Man Huang, though the old man could barely take care of himself. Huang Wenhao dropped out of school entirely, living off the alimony his mother provided. He grew increasingly withdrawn, his resentment toward the Huang family simmering beneath the surface. Slowly, he began to resemble his father.

The difference was, while Huang Minhao’s body bore the scars of his past, Huang Wenhao’s wounds were all in his soul.

Old Man Huang had assumed he could stay detached, untouched by the chaos. But he never expected his temperamental grandson to direct all his rage at him.

Hunger and verbal abuse became routine.

When Huang Minhao returned home, people pointed and whispered wherever he went. As the first offender under the new law, he was far more infamous than any who came after.

He pushed open the door, ready to vent his frustration, but no one paid him any attention.

Old Man Huang sat in a daze, staring blankly at the sky, while Huang Wenhao hacked mindlessly at the corner of a table with a kitchen knife.

A sudden wave of desolation washed over Huang Minhao.

Within two years, Old Man Huang was dead.

Huang Minhao grew older, while Huang Wenhao came of age. Their roles reversed—now it was the son who inherited his father’s cruelty, hurling insults and fists at the slightest provocation. Huang Minhao fought back, even when outmatched.

But both father and son tread carefully, afraid of being arrested again.

With the new law fully enforced and penalties harsher than ever, they were trapped—hurting each other, fearing each other, until one of them died.

Fang Zhiyi kept his distance from Fang Nuan. He knew the original owner of this body had hurt his sister deeply, and staying away was the best he could do.

But during an investigation, the relentlessly righteous protagonist—Xiao Qi—stormed into a criminal hideout.

Just as he was about to be hacked to death, Fang Zhiyi burst in, taking the fatal slash meant for him.

Though Fang Zhiyi, with his god-like perspective, found Xiao Qi utterly devoid of empathy, he couldn’t fault his logic. If everyone acted as vigilantes, each with their own moral compass, the world would descend into chaos.

Xiao Qi cradled Fang Zhiyi’s dying body, his face twisted in anguish. He grabbed a knife, ready to execute the attacker, but Fang Zhiyi stopped him.

"You… need to think things through."

Fang Zhiyi died.

Rumor had it he held on just long enough to finish his will—half his savings to his parents, half to his sister, even specifying what to do with his tattered underwear. He drew his last breath the moment help arrived.

At his memorial, Fang Zhiyi’s aged parents stood numbly before his gravestone. Not far away, Fang Nuan, clad in a black dress, let a single tear fall.

"I forgave you long ago, you fool of a brother…"

"Damn… I got dragged into fate’s script after all?" Fang Zhiyi sighed.

"Of course. As the protagonist’s mentor, you had to die."

Floating cross-legged above his own funeral, Fang Zhiyi suddenly remembered something. "Well?"

The little black creature smacked its lips. "You were right. She guessed you were reborn too."

"This world is exhausting—so many threads to manage. Can you be more reliable next time?"

The creature didn’t answer. Fang Zhiyi noticed its body was… expanding? Flickering like a lost signal.

"Hey, what’s happening to you?"

"Finished digesting energy from the previous worlds," it said. "We need to leave. This world’s cosmic order has noticed me."

Fang Zhiyi and the creature vanished into a swirling void.

Fang Nuan continued down the path her brother had laid out for her. She’d always found his sudden change baffling, but her memories from her past life had filled her with resentment, so she avoided him.

He must have been reborn too—but so what? Could that undo the pain he’d caused?

Her feelings toward Fang Zhiyi remained complicated.

But when she heard of his death and his almost comically meticulous will, her tears splashed onto the documents in her hands.

After that, she finally set aside her endless work, traveling the world instead. Occasionally, she’d check in on the abusive ex-husband and his ungrateful son.

Watching Huang Wenhao grow into his father’s image, Fang Nuan smiled.

Every year, she’d visit Fang Zhiyi’s grave, sitting awhile to share her stories—whether he could hear her or not.

She wondered what her brother had endured in his past life. Whatever it was, he must have loved her deeply. Why else would he rush to save her after being reborn, teaching her to fight back, resist, grow, and stand on her own?

And then he’d walked away. That day the Huang father and son came to cause trouble, she’d spotted him hiding in the crowd. Seeing Huang Minhao again, she’d wanted to kill him in a frenzy—but the moment she met Fang Zhiyi’s eyes, she knew what to do.

She couldn’t let her hopeless little brother keep cleaning up her messes forever.

Fang Nuan placed a bouquet on the gravestone, gazing at the photo etched into it. Warmth filled her heart.

Fang Nuan—the name he’d given her.

It really was perfect.