"You're wearing my lost bracelet. Return it," Hua Yunyue declared, her voice sharp. Lei Qiuping, Wu Xiaomin, and Lei Dongping's eyes snapped to Zhengyang's wrist. Sure enough, a delicate, unmistakably feminine bracelet dangled there—no man's accessory. None doubted Hua Yunyue's claim.
Wu Xiaomin gasped, "Junior Sister, so this is what you lost? What fate—Zhengyang found it! Quick, Zhengyang, give it back. It's a keepsake from her mother, priceless to her."
Zhengyang had thought Hua Yunyue merely resembled Instructor No. 2, but this bracelet, echoing across time and space, stunned him. Without a word, as all eyes bored into him, he unclasped it and handed it over. Hua Yunyue took it, her fingers tracing the beads with tender reverence. The cheap wooden chain meant nothing monetarily, but as her mother's sole memento, it was everything.
Months ago, losing it had crushed her. Jewelry might be sold, but a plain bead chain? Likely tossed as trash, near impossible to recover. Yet here it was, adorning a stranger's wrist. She wondered: why would a man wear such a trinket, ignoring flashier ornaments?
"Now that I have it back, I won't ask how you got it," Hua Yunyue said, her tone icy. "If you want to leave, go." Inside, she hoped he'd stay, giving her a chance to probe him—and to prove her charm, which, though she rarely valued it, stung to see dismissed.
"Zhengyang, dinner's ready—eat before you go," Wu Xiaomin urged. She'd slaved over the meal, a treat even her father rarely enjoyed. She didn't want this to end sourly. Plus, her woman's intuition burned with gossip. Zhengyang wasn't easily rattled, yet Hua Yunyue's presence had visibly shaken him—not from her beauty or rank, but something deeper. Wu Xiaomin needed to know what.
Zhengyang, his mind churning, wanted out. Facing Hua Yunyue, his thoughts tangled, memories colliding. He needed solitude to sort it out. Shaking his head, he moved to leave.
Hua Yunyue, seen as unflappable, couldn't hold back. A feminine pique flared. "Let him go, Senior Sister. I'm starving—let's eat!" Walk away? Fine, big deal. She regretted agreeing to this dinner. Her mission hadn't even started, and she'd already clashed with her target, failing her father's expectations. Never had she been so ignored. Despite her discipline, this slight cut deep.
But then, Zhengyang turned back. As the group thought Hua Yunyue's jab had swayed him, he spoke, voice eerily calm. "Miss Hua, can I ask you a personal question?"
Hua Yunyue blinked, then nodded, poised. "Ask. I might not answer."
Zhengyang leaned in, whispering a question only she could hear—one she knew the answer to but could never voice. He left. Hua Yunyue stood frozen, her icy facade melting into a kaleidoscope of emotions: flushed cheeks,(delicate rage), loathing—every feminine fury fused on her face, vivid and wild.
"Junior Sister, what's wrong? What did Zhengyang ask?" Wu Xiaomin asked, alarmed by Hua Yunyue's shifting expressions—joy or sorrow, impossible to tell.
Snapped from her daze, Hua Yunyue erupted. "Lei Zhengyang, you bastard! How do you know about my—that? Impossible! If I see you again, I'll gut you!" Her fury was raw, unhinged.
Zhengyang had only guessed, but he'd hit the mark. Her outburst stunned Lei Dongping and Qiuping, their admiration for her plummeting from celestial heights to dread. This goddess, flawless and revered, harbored a violent streak. Qiuping suddenly understood why Wu Xiaomin and Hua Yunyue clicked—they were cut from the same fierce cloth. Birds of a feather, he thought, ancient wisdom proven true.
Roaring, Hua Yunyue stormed off, her modified jeep snarling as she sped away, forgetting the dinner invite entirely. "What did Zhengyang ask to rile her up like that?" Qiuping marveled. "Kid's got skills!"
Wu Xiaomin, equally baffled, nodded. "I've known Yunyue six years—never seen her lose it like this. Qiuping, your nephew's something else. Making someone happy's tough, but pissing off Yunyue? That's a feat."
"Forget it," Dongping cut in. "Third Bro, Third Aunt, time to eat? You're not sending me away empty-handed, right?" He didn't care about the drama—as long as Qiuping stayed off Zhengyang, all was well.
"Eat till you choke," Qiuping grumbled. He'd orchestrated this grand setup, and though Zhengyang agreed to help, it felt hollow. Hua Yunyue's beauty trap hadn't even launched.
The feast Wu Xiaomin had slaved over was devoured by Dongping. Not to be outdone, Qiuping dove in, the brothers gorging and guzzling. With the guests gone, they drank themselves silly, collapsing into snores like two bloated pigs. Wu Xiaomin stared, speechless.
Hua Yunyue, driving away, couldn't calm her racing heart. Zhengyang's question haunted her: Is there a crescent-moon red mark on your hip? If it were false, she'd dismiss it as a lecher's taunt. But there was such a mark, hidden, visible only by mirror. How did he know? She was certain today was their first meeting—never before had they crossed paths.
Only three people knew of that mark: her parents and her sister. Without hesitation, she dialed Hua Yunxia, heedless that it was 3 a.m. across the ocean.
Few in the capital knew the Military Blade, fewer that Hua Yunyue was his daughter. None knew she was a twin, born minutes before her sister, Hua Yunxia. From birth, their paths diverged. Yunyue, gifted with rare talent, was groomed by their father as his heir. Yunxia, raised by their mother, lived abroad. In twenty years, they'd met only once—when their mother died. Their only bond was the phone, yet they were each other's closest kin.
Yunyue sometimes resented her father for keeping Yunxia away, especially after their mother's death, leaving her sister alone overseas, craving family. But he'd refused, saying, "Yunxia can't protect herself. Compared to life, losing family is nothing. Survival is everything." Yunyue never understood, her resentment lingering.
A groggy voice answered. "Sis, it's you? What time is it? Pitch black here. I'm under the weather—maybe a cold. Took meds, passed out. Got tons to do."
Yunyue's planned interrogation choked in her throat, replaced by a surge of protective love. "Yunxia, you're not listening again—working late, aren't you? Don't make me worry, okay?" Her tender tone, unthinkable to others, would've shocked onlookers—icy Hua Yunyue, soft and warm.
"Sis, I'm fine, really," Yunxia rallied, voice stronger. "I'll sleep it off. What's up? Calling now—you need something, right?" Her words, though brave, pierced Yunyue's heart with guilt.