As dusk settled, Yang Haoran returned to his room after having dinner with his family. Under the soft glow of his lamp, he slid into his computer chair and, as was his habit, switched on the computer with the intention of playing a few games before sleep. However, his attention was drawn to the black notebook lying next to his keyboard. After a moment's hesitation, he resolutely closed his computer and opened the notebook.
The pages revealed rows of graceful handwriting, as elegant and refined as the face of his younger sister, who had written it. The notebook was filled with detailed explanations of various subjects, mostly knowledge imparted during class lectures, complete with his sister's own annotations. Yang Haoran recognized the individual characters, but the professional terms formed by these characters baffled him.
"How am I supposed to learn this? I don't understand anything..."
Yang Haoran, who had been trying to muster the motivation to study, felt disheartened and slumped in his chair.
"Knock, knock…"
The sound of knocking stirred him, and without waiting for a response, the door swung open, revealing a figure he knew all too well. His mother, Liu Ruoxi, entered the room. Her gaze fell upon Yang Haoran, lounging in his chair. Her brows furrowed and her tone was chilly when she spoke.
"Yang Haoran, do you remember what you promised me today?"
"Yes, Mom, I was just about to start studying."
Seeing his mother, Yang Haoran quickly sat upright, wearing an awkward grin. He picked up the notebook again, pretending to be ready to study.
"You're holding the book upside down."
Liu Ruoxi, placing her teacup gently on the table, pointed out.
"Uh…"
Feeling utterly embarrassed, Yang Haoran responded: "I really want to study, but when I open the notebook, I just don't understand. It's not my fault, Mom."
Feeling at a loss, he could only lay his cards on the table and defend himself.
"Heh," Liu Ruoxi scoffed coldly, "Not understanding is your own problem. If I quiz you and you don't know the answers, that's on you. Also, why are so stupid, if you don't understand, can't you ask your sister for help?"
"Right, I forgot about Xiaoyao."
Upon hearing this, Yang Haoran's eyes brightened as if he had an epiphany. He slapped his forehead in realization.
Looking at her son, who was acting foolishly in front of her, Liu Ruoxi sighed inwardly and said, "Drink this water."
She had mixed a tasteless, colorless potion she'd exchanged for 50 points into the water. Yang Haoran didn't think twice, he picked up the cup and drained it in one gulp.
After he finished, Liu Ruoxi, her eyebrows furrowed slightly, asked, "Do you feel anything?"
"Feel? Feel what?"
Yang Haoran looked at his mother with confusion. Her beautiful face, now marked with a hint of worry, was captivating and invoked a sense of concern. After her question, he felt a strange warmth surging below, but he dismissed it, thinking it was a normal reaction to seeing his mother.
'Xiao Ba, Why isn't it working?' When Liu Ruoxi observed her son's genuine confusion and distress, she turned for advice to her mental companion, the artificial intelligence being called Barbarossa.
"The Dragon Extension elixir is gentle in its effects and will gradually heal your son's injuries over the next couple of days," Barbarossa grumbled slightly, "And, don't call me 'Xiao Ba', it's Lord Barbarossa to you."
His slightly disgruntled voice echoed in her mind.
He initially considered mentioning that the elixir might intensify the user's desires for a few days, making it hard to control himself, but given the current situation, he had lost interest in pointing that out.
Ignoring Barbarossa's minor protest, Liu Ruoxi felt relieved after getting the response. She offered a lazy warning to her son and then left the room.
Shortly after his mother's departure, Yang Haoran exited his room, walked along the tiled corridor, and stopped in front of his sister's door to knock.
A rhythmic 'knock, knock, knock' resounded.
A few seconds later, with a "click", the door opened to reveal a face of youthful innocence and beauty: milky-white skin, finely arched brows, a delicate nose, cherry lips, dressed in a pale yellow nightgown as if preparing for bed. Her eyes met his, filled with slight confusion.
"Cough, cough..." Facing his sister, Yang Haoran found himself momentarily at a loss for words, uncertain of how to begin.
He had rejected her countless offers to help him study in the past, always with impatience.
However, as fate would have it, now he found himself needing to ask her to help him understand some notes. The thought brought a flush to even his thick-skinned face.
"Well... Xiao Yaoyao," Yang Haoran said, looking embarrassed yet trying to sound composed, "There are some parts of your notes that I don't understand. Would you have some time to explain them to me?"
Yang Mengyao looked at her brother in amazement, doubting her own ears. Was her brother really asking her for help in studying?
Years of disappointment weren't easily forgotten. She asked cautiously, "Brother, are you serious?" Her voice was as soft as a warbling oriole, infused with the unique gentleness of a young girl's tone.
He had spoken, but her younger sister questioned if it was true? Those pure, unblemished eyes were filled with hope.
Faced with her sister's question, Yang Haoran felt an unexpected wave of discomfort well up in his heart. It was a complex emotion that he couldn't put into words. He could only nod silently in response.
Memories from their childhood flooded back. He remembered how his sister used to adore and rely on him. But he found her annoying as she clung to him like a persistent shadow, her eyes shining brightly. It seemed like just being with him was enough to make her happy.
Whenever he grew irritated, he and his friends would occasionally tease and make fun of her. During such times, Shiwen would step in like an older brother, defending their sister.
Back then, he found this absurd, yet a sense of unease would churn within his chest. His young self couldn't describe the feeling; it was just an intense discomfort.
To vent these feelings, he turned his scorn on Shiwen, sarcastically asking if he liked his clingy little sister.
As he matured, he came to understand shame and neglect. He drew a line between himself and the friends who had joined him in mocking his sister, keeping only Shiwen as a friend. For Shiwen had taken on the role of the protective brother that he himself had shirked.
The unfair acts he had committed against his sister haunted him like nightmares. But his pathetic pride as an older brother prevented him from apologizing until today. Memories from the past lingered in his mind.
"I'm sorry!"
After a long silence, Yang Haoran stared into his sister's bright, clear eyes, his face grave as he uttered the long overdue apology. Once he had said it, he suddenly felt a weight lifting. It was as if a stone that had been pressing down on his heart for years had crumbled, and even his breathing felt a little easier.