Jian leaned against the doorframe, a grin slowly spreading across his face as he watched Bian silently break down across the room.
His brother's tears fell freely.
but the fury in his eyes was unmistakable.
The sight sent a rush of satisfaction through Jian's veins.
"Ah, there it is… How does it feel, Bian? When someone takes what's yours, does it make your stomach twist in anger like mine used to?" he could almost taste the bitterness Bian must be feeling.
His smirk widened, and he mouthed, "Got you."
Suddenly, Bian shot up, wiping away his tears as he ran towards the door. But Jian was quicker. He slammed it shut just in time, a soft but satisfying thud following as Bian's face collided with the wood. Jian couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, quiet but sharp.
From behind the door, his grandma's voice came, strangled with rage. "You bastard! You coward! Get back here!" His fists pounded against the door, growing more frantic with each hit. "How could you do this to me? After everything! You... You worm! You deceitful piece of—"
Their grandmother's screech grew louder and sharper as she stormed down the hallway after them. "Jian! You ungrateful wretch! You dare betray your own brother after we raised you? After everything we've done for you? How could you deceive your family?!"
Jian let the noise fade into the background, unaffected. His grip tightened slightly on the door, but his face remained calm. His grandfather, though, was not as composed. Jian could feel his unease in the way his hand trembled slightly, and every few seconds, his grandfather would glance back at the source of the shouting. Seeing this, Jian gently squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him without saying a word.
It wasn't the shouting that got to Jian, though.
It was the steady gaze of Mister Wen, who stood watching the whole thing unfold with a quiet, unreadable expression.
Jian met his gaze, and with a cocky tilt of his head, whispered, "Bet you're glad you picked the quiet one. She sounds like she's selling fish in a market. And Bian? He's always crying about something. Can't handle anything that doesn't go his way."
Mister Wen raised an eyebrow, his calm demeanor never wavering. "Don't you care about your brother?"
Jian let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "I used to, back when I was too dumb to see the truth. He's a snake, always hiding behind a smile, playing the innocent one." His voice dropped, the bitterness seeping through. "I should've seen it sooner."
Mister Wen paused, his gaze lingering on Jian. "What if I'm like him?"
Jian looked at him, his face hardening for a moment. He didn't respond, but inside, a quiet thought echoed. If you are, I'll tear you down just like I'm tearing him down.
The three of them settled into a sleek, black Rolls-Royce.
Jian sat next to his grandfather, who hadn't stopped fidgeting since they left. His fingers nervously picked at his nails, his gaze darting out the window as the city blurred by.
he gently placed his hand over his grandfather's, stopping the restless movement. He didn't say anything—he didn't need to.
But the silence in the car only made the tension heavier.
Mister Wen, sitting across from them with his usual cold, unreadable expression, finally broke the quiet. "You don't need to worry about anything. I won't treat your grandson wrongly,"
Jian's grandfather straightened a little, his anxious fidgeting stopping. "We... we're very grateful, sire… we," he stammered.
"Wen Wang," the man corrected smoothly, his gaze flicking to the old man. "Please, call me Wen."
His grandfather nodded, though his voice was still shaky. "Mister Wen... We're glad you chose to adopt Jian, but... may I ask why you only wanted one? Why not take both?"
Jian stiffened beside him. He subtly tightened his grip on his grandfather's hand, silently pleading "Don't ask that. Don't bring Bian into this."
Mister Wen's expression didn't change much, but he glanced out the window as if considering the question carefully. "I don't want two sons fighting over my fortune," he said matter-of-factly. "One is enough. One who's smart enough to manage it."
He turned his gaze back to Jian, his eyes sharp. "Your scores are good. You've shown you're capable of handling what I'll leave behind."
Jian met his gaze, trying to read the man's intentions. "And what if I had said no? If you had taken Bian instead... he's not capable of managing anything you own." His words came out harsher than he intended, but he didn't care. The thought of Bian being handed power like that made his stomach twist.
Mister Wen's lips curved into the smallest of smiles, the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Then I would've hired someone to manage it for him."
Such a simple answer, but the weight of it pressed down on Jian.
It wasn't just about picking someone smart enough.
It was about control.
Power.
Mister Wen's power was so absolute that he could mold anyone into what he needed them to be—or discard them if they didn't fit.
Jian's hand curled into a fist in his lap.
"This man... he hurt me before. Will he try again in this life?" The thought was bitter, curling around his mind like a dark cloud.
He stared at Mister Wen, trying to keep his face neutral, but inside, every nerve was on edge. "I have to be careful around him. I can't let my guard down."
The car continued its smooth journey into the city, the hum of the engine the only sound filling the tense silence.