The house was unusually quiet. Not the peaceful kind of silence, but a weighty, lingering one that settled into the corners of every room.
Xinyi sat on the couch, curled up with a blanket draped over her shoulders, staring at the dim glow of the living room lamp. Her textbooks were open in front of her, but she had long since given up on pretending to study.
Her mind was elsewhere.
Something had changed after the unexpected visit from that girl.
Zhao Chen hadn’t said much after sending her away, but Xinyi had noticed the subtle shift in him. He still cracked jokes, still acted as if nothing was wrong, but there was something in his eyes—something distant.
He was good at hiding it. If she hadn’t spent so much time with him, she wouldn’t have even noticed.
She let out a quiet sigh, hugging the blanket closer.
Why did it bother her so much?
Was it because she had never seen Zhao Chen look so… guarded before? Or was it because, for the first time, she was witnessing the cracks in the unshakable person who had become her safe place?
She didn’t know.
All she knew was that the silence in the house felt heavier than usual, and she didn’t like it.
A little later, she heard footsteps approaching the living room.
Zhao Chen.
He had changed into a simple hoodie and sweatpants, his hair slightly damp from a recent shower. He didn’t seem to notice her at first, too preoccupied with whatever was on his phone. His brows furrowed slightly as he stared at the screen.
Xinyi observed him quietly.
His fingers hovered over the screen for a long moment before he sighed and put the phone down.
She hesitated for a second before getting up and walking over, sitting down beside him. She didn’t say anything—just sat there, her presence a silent question.
A minute passed. Then two.
Just when she thought he would ignore her, Zhao Chen let out a low chuckle.
“What, are you trying to comfort me now?” His tone was teasing, but it lacked the usual amusement.
Xinyi shrugged. “I’m just sitting here.”
Zhao Chen leaned back against the couch, tilting his head to the side to look at her.
“Well, aren’t you considerate,” he mused.
Another beat of silence. This time, it felt a little lighter.
Then, Zhao Chen exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair. “That girl…” he started, his voice quieter than usual. “She was someone I used to know.”
Xinyi turned her head slightly, waiting for him to continue.
“She was important to me once,” he admitted. “But she left. When I needed her the most, she was gone.” His lips curled into something that was supposed to be a smirk, but there was no real amusement in it. “And now she suddenly wants to act like nothing happened.”
Xinyi felt her fingers twitch slightly.
She didn’t know why, but the thought of someone abandoning Zhao Chen—of him being left alone—made her stomach tighten uncomfortably.
She didn’t know what to say, so she just leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
“That’s stupid,” she finally muttered.
Zhao Chen glanced at her. “What is?”
“Leaving someone when they need you the most,” she said simply. “And then coming back like they have the right to be in your life again.”
For a moment, Zhao Chen just looked at her. Then, something in his expression softened.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “It is.”
Xinyi felt a small warmth bloom in her chest.
She shook her head at herself. No. It’s just because he’s the first person to ever care for you. That’s all.
She refused to acknowledge anything beyond that.
Later that night, Li Jun returned from his part-time job.
He walked into the living room, pausing when he saw Xinyi and Zhao Chen sitting together.
The atmosphere had shifted since earlier. It wasn’t as heavy, but there was still something lingering in the air.
Li Jun put his bag down and let out a sigh before walking over to the table. His movements were different tonight—quieter, more deliberate.
Xinyi noticed it right away.
“You okay?” she asked.
Li Jun blinked, as if coming out of his thoughts. He looked at her for a long moment before exhaling.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said, but his gaze wasn’t on her—it was on Zhao Chen.
Zhao Chen straightened slightly. “What is it?”
Li Jun hesitated for a second before sitting down across from them.
“It’s about why I left.”
The air in the room changed instantly.
Xinyi’s body tensed. Zhao Chen’s expression darkened slightly.
Li Jun’s fingers curled together. “You asked me before why I left home. Why I never looked back.” He let out a slow breath. “I never gave you an answer.”
Zhao Chen remained silent, waiting.
Li Jun’s hands clenched. “Three years ago, I found a file in my father’s office.” His voice was steady, but there was something strained underneath. “It was about Xinyi.”
Xinyi’s breath caught in her throat.
“I found out that she… isn’t really my sister.”
Silence.
A suffocating, deafening silence.
Xinyi couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.
Zhao Chen’s brows furrowed deeply. “What are you talking about?”
Li Jun swallowed hard. “The real Li Xinyi… passed away years ago.”
Xinyi felt like the ground beneath her had disappeared.
Li Jun clenched his fists. “That day, my parents and my real sister went out. They were heading to the grocery store. I didn’t go with them because I hated shopping for groceries.” He let out a bitter laugh. “But then, an accident happened.”
Xinyi’s fingers dug into the couch.
“They were rushed to the hospital. My parents didn’t have any severe injuries, but my sister… she was in a coma.” His voice wavered. “For months.”
His expression darkened.
“And then, one day, my parents told me she woke up but lost her memories.” He exhaled sharply. “But it wasn’t her.”
Xinyi felt like she was drowning.
Li Jun’s gaze softened slightly. “Your real parents… they died in that accident.” His hands trembled slightly. “And my parents took you in. They gave you my sister’s identity.” His jaw tightened. “They thought they were protecting me. That if I never found out the truth, I wouldn’t have to suffer losing my sister.”
Zhao Chen ran a hand down his face, processing the revelation.
Xinyi… wasn’t Xinyi.
Everything she knew about herself—her entire life—had been a lie.
Her hands curled into fists, nails digging into her palms.
Li Jun let out a shaky breath. “I left because I felt betrayed. My own family lied to me for years. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I ran.” His expression twisted with guilt. “And in doing that… I abandoned you too.”
Xinyi’s breath came out uneven.
Li Jun reached out slightly, but she didn’t respond.
Then, Zhao Chen spoke. His voice was calm, but firm.
“Does it change anything?”
Both Xinyi and Li Jun looked at him.
Zhao Chen leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Does it change the fact that you’ve been family all these years?” His gaze flickered toward Xinyi. “Does it change the fact that he’s still your brother?”
Xinyi’s lips parted, but no words came out.
Li Jun let out a breath. “No.”
Zhao Chen nodded, as if that settled everything.
Then, he flicked Xinyi’s forehead lightly.
She blinked.
“You’re still Xinyi,” he said softly. “That doesn’t change.”
Her chest tightened.
Li Jun placed a hand on her head. “Yeah,” he murmured. “No matter what.”
And for the first time, despite everything, Xinyi felt… safe.