novelraw Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Chapter 4
When Yan Huan stepped out of the office, Meow-chan was nowhere to be seen. No telling where the black cat had wandered off.
Ye Lan was still inside, deep in conversation with Principal Hermes—something about her so-called daughter coming here to study.
Yan Huan hovered by the door and texted his evening job that he wouldn't be coming in. The reply was icy and brief: "Count it as an absence, 200 yuan docked."
A couple of minutes later another message arrived: "Just realized you've never taken a day off before. We'll let it slide this once. Don't make a habit of it."
Yan Huan gave a wry smile and sent back a sticker that read "Thanks." Just then Ye Lan emerged; he pocketed the phone and looked up.
"Let's go. Which way to the gate, Xiao Huan? Your school is a maze—I'm completely turned around."
"This way, Auntie Ye."
They walked down the silent stairwell. On the weekend, the lure of freedom had spirited every last student off campus, and the whole place felt deserted—just the two of them wandering an empty Yuanyue.
As they strolled and chatted, the main gate soon appeared. Beneath the maple trees, a discreet black Longguo electric car waited, a woman in a dark suit standing beside it.
"Madam Ye."
"Home, please."
"Understood."
Once Ye Lan had ushered Yan Huan into the back seat, the car glided forward without a sound.
Yan Huan took in the spacious interior; Ye Lan bent down and pulled a small fridge from beneath the rear vent. Inside were rows of yellow banana-milk cans.
With a smile like a squirrel sharing winter nuts, she popped one open and handed it to him—straw already inserted.
"Here, Xiao Huan, drink this."
"Thanks, Auntie Ye."
"Good boy. No need to thank Auntie."
She couldn't wait; she snagged another can for herself, poked in the straw and took a long, happy sip.
"Mmm."
A soft hum of contentment escaped her—apparently banana milk was the way to her heart.
Yan Huan followed suit. The drink was lightly sweet with a strong banana flavour—less sugar than he'd expected.
Between sips Ye Lan opened up.
"About your older sister—back in Longguo I was swamped with work. Couldn't spend time with her, so our nanny raised her. Maybe that's why she grew so quiet, doesn't like talking to people, has no friends her age."
"Now I've dragged her across the world. Linmen and Yuanyue have plenty of Longguo students, but it's still not the place where she grew up. I worry whether she'll adjust."
Yan Huan drank and glanced at her. "What about Uncle? Is he busy too?"
Ye Lan didn't answer. A polite, helpless smile appeared, as though Yan Huan had brushed against some unspoken sore spot.
Yan Huan got the message and apologised at once. "Sorry, Auntie Ye."
"It's fine. Her father and I parted ways when she was little. We haven't been in touch since."
She spoke so casually that she even paused her drinking. When she resumed, she switched topics.
"Xiao Huan, you seem popular at school. The principal said he could grab any student to fetch you—they all have your contact info."
True enough. Even without his private number, every major campus group-chat had him; reaching him was never a problem.
"Probably because I'm student-council president. It's a hassle, but it helps with university applications."
"Rubbish. You're popular because you're just that likeable."
Ye Lan cupped her cheeks, smiling into Yan Huan's eyes.
"I'm not asking my daughter to be as popular as you. I just want her to talk to people instead of hiding in her room with those dolls."
"Dolls?"
"Barbies, figurines—something like that. I don't really get it, but she loves them. Weird, right?"
Yan Huan kept his opinion to himself. He'd learned from Sakuramiya the vice-president that personal hobbies are off-limits.
"In any case, seeing is believing. When you meet her you'll understand. If anything goes wrong, blame me in advance." She gave a playful wink. "Look after your big sister for Auntie's sake, okay?"
"Auntie, that's far too generous of you." Yan Huan smiled politely.
Even though they sipped slowly, his can was soon empty; Ye Lan had barely drained a fifth. She blinked in surprise.
The rest of the ride passed in idle chatter. Yan Huan added her on Plane; her profile picture was a can of banana milk.
The Ye house wasn't far—half an hour without traffic. Everything in Jinghe District cost a fortune, so the distance was modest.
When the car rolled into an unfamiliar compound, grey privacy film on the windows turned the rows of detached houses and gardens into a muted watercolour. It stopped in front of a handsome Western-style mansion in a prime spot—quiet yet close to the neighbourhood amenities.
"We're here. Come on, Xiao Huan. Auntie Chen has dinner ready—Longguo specialties."
The driver hopped out, exchanged a few quiet words with Ye Lan, then slipped back into the car and vanished.
Ye Lan took Yan Huan's wrist and led him warmly inside.
The mansion felt vast; the second and third floors were partly open, so the living-room ceiling soared, erasing any sense of cramped space. Bright lights suited Eastern tastes; Yan Huan half thought he'd stepped into a palace.
"Auntie Chen, we're back."
"Ah, Miss Ye. Traffic jam? You're later than Shiyu said. Shiyu, your mother's home!"
The voice drifted from what seemed to be the kitchen on the ground floor.
While Ye Lan helped Yan Huan change his shoes, the lady of the house appeared—a plump, curly-haired woman in an apron, face wreathed in smiles.
"Auntie Chen, this is Xiao Huan, the boy I told you about. Xiao Huan, this is Auntie Chen. She came with us from Longguo to Linmen; your parents know her too. Make yourself at home."
"Hello, Auntie Chen."
"My, how time flies. The next generation's all grown up—and so handsome. Wonderful, just wonderful."
Ye Lan rested a hand on Yan Huan's back, about to call her daughter, when a faint floral scent reached his nose.
Following the fragrance, he looked up the spiral staircase that joined living room to second floor. Half-way up stood a girl in a black chiffon dress.
Beneath the hem, thick black socks moulded her calves; her feet were tucked into dark-grey slippers. She must have been standing there for a while.
Her black hair fell to her waist, unadorned; her face bore no make-up. Pale skin—white as snow—contrasted sharply with the inky fabric. Where Ye Lan's eyes were soft willow leaves, Ye Shiyu's were longer, narrower. Beneath thick lashes, her exquisite face showed no emotion, and her deep black eyes held a touch of frost.
She was tall—barely an inch shorter than Yan Huan's 184 cm. Her figure was balanced, healthy. Snow-white cuffs revealed firm, not overly slender forearms.
In her hand, for some reason, she held a long pair of scissors—apparently the tool she'd just been using.
Yan Huan blinked. Their eyes met; neither looked away. A momentary pause—then, just as Ye Lan opened her mouth, Yan Huan's face slid into a bright, polite smile.
"Big sister."
At the word, Ye Shiyu's lowered gaze trembled like a struck bell.
Ye Lan turned and spotted her daughter on the stairs.
"Ah, Shiyu, honestly—come down and say hello. This is Yan Huan, the son of my old friend. He's a year younger than you, your little brother. Xiao Huan, this is Shiyu. You can call her Shiyu-sis or just big sister."
Ye Shiyu kept staring at the boy beside her mother, motionless, silent.
Only when Ye Lan's lips pursed in warning did she react like a sluggish machine.
"Hello. I'm Ye Shiyu."
Exactly as Ye Lan had warned: strange, withdrawn. Yan Huan's misgivings deepened.
Ye Lan looked dissatisfied yet unsurprised.
Auntie Chen seized the moment, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Since Xiao Huan's here, shall we eat? Everything's ready—Longguo dishes. I'm not sure what young people like in Linmen."
"I eat anything, Auntie Chen."
"Wonderful. Sit, Miss Ye, Xiao Huan. I'll bring the dishes."
Ye Lan nodded, then called up the stairs, "Shiyu, put those away and come down for dinner."
Ye Shiyu merely stared at the boy whose smile still glowed like sunlight. At her mother's words she gave a slow nod, turned with the scissors, and climbed back upstairs.
Below, the intermittent murmur of Ye Lan seating Yan Huan drifted up. Expressionless, Ye Shiyu ascended to the third floor and stopped outside a bedroom not far from the master suite.
She pushed open the door. Once spacious, the room now felt crowded with shelves and display cases. Glass cabinets along the walls housed an army of exquisitely dressed female figures—realistic action figures, anime-style poseables, and countless wooden, ceramic, and clay dolls.
On a chair beside the bed sat a life-sized Gothic Lolita doll in elaborate raiment. All the figures shared one detail: inside a hem or on a hidden collar, tiny characters spelled the same name—Ye Shiyu.
Ye Shiyu set the scissors in a sewing box. On the desk lay expensive fabric still waiting to be stitched. Etched on the scissor handles, in delicate script, was the same name: Ye Shiyu.
She picked up her phone, slid to unlock. The chat app still open showed her conversation with Ye Lan, contact name "Mom."
"Sweetheart, Mommy's bringing that Yan Huan I told you about home for dinner. Ask Auntie Chen to prepare something nice."
"Okay, I've said it."
"His mom used to be my best friend. When you were little I kept showing you her photo—do you remember?"
"Mhm."
"He's had it rough, living alone in Linmen all these years. Mom wants him to move in with us—he can take the downstairs guest room. What do you think?"
Ye Shiyu didn't reply, but Ye Lan fired off several more messages in quick succession.
"He's only a year younger than you, so you two should have plenty to talk about. You're even at the same school—you could walk there together."
"That way you'd have company instead of being cooped up with those dolls like back home."
"Having another younger brother sounds nice, doesn't it, sweetheart?"
"Mom really wants to hear your opinion."
Even now, when Ye Shiyu opened her phone, no answer had come.
She closed the chat app. The screen bloomed with a wallpaper of an elaborately dressed doll.
Every single app had been tucked into meticulously labeled folders; for Ye Shiyu, that was simply the most efficient way to use a phone.
Yet, outside this painstaking order, one strange app floated alone on the home screen—a purple heart icon without a name, looking like a bug no update had ever fixed.
Ye Shiyu stared at it for a long moment, as though lost in a trance, until her mother's voice drifted in from the hallway.
"Shiyu, come eat! Are you done yet?"
"."
After a short silence she seemed to reach a decision. She pressed the power button, slipped the phone into her pocket, and left the room.
"Coming, Mom."