The sitting room of the Pang estate grew silent after Feng Ruoxi and Jiang Yukang departed. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to weigh down the walls of the otherwise grand room. Pang Zhong stood by the window, his back turned to his younger brother, Pang Zhihao, his hands clasped behind him as he stared out at the manicured garden. The faint hum of the departing car faded into the distance, leaving only the oppressive quiet between the two brothers.
"She knows too much already," Pang Zhong said finally, his voice low and gravelly.
Pang Zhihao, seated on the couch with his head in his hands, let out a weary sigh. "She doesn't know enough," he countered. "And that's the problem."
Pang Zhong turned, his sharp gaze fixed on his brother. "We promised Yuwei," he said firmly. "We swore to her that we would keep this secret. You remember, don't you?"