The modest home was bathed in the warmth of the evening, but beneath it all, tension simmered.
Yang Chen sat across from the woman who had been the focal point of his thoughts for the past month, his brow furrowed in concern. "Aunt, how are you feeling? Is the cold poison still bothering you at night?"
Beside him, Lin Xilan sat poised, her long, jet-black hair tied neatly in a bun. Her features had softened with age, but there was still a spark of youthful beauty in her eyes, a magnetism that even time couldn't erase. She wore a simple yet elegant long skirt, exuding a grace that contrasted sharply with the chaotic thoughts swirling in Yang Chen's mind.
"I'm much better now, Xiaochen," she replied, her voice warm with gratitude. "Thank you for helping me every day. I don't know what I would have done without you."
Yang Chen's expression softened, his voice low and sincere. "It's nothing, really. Lin Yan is like a brother to me. Helping you... it's the least I can do."
He hesitated for a moment, then, gathering his courage, added, "But... I can't lie. I've started to feel something more for you, Aunt. It wasn't my intention to say it like this, but I can't keep it inside anymore."
Lin Xilan's eyes widened, her face flushing with a mix of surprise and embarrassment. She looked away, her breath catching. "Xiaochen..." Her voice trailed off as she composed herself.
After a beat of silence, she spoke again, her tone soft and careful. "Don't call me Aunt anymore."
Yang Chen froze. "What? Why? What did I do wrong?"
"No, it's just... you're only three years younger than me. Calling me Aunt just feels strange. You're more like... a peer."
Yang Chen blinked, unsure of what to say. "So... how should I address you?"
Lin Xilan lowered her gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know either. But... you can call me Lin Xilan, or maybe... Sister Lan, if you prefer."
"Sister Lan?" Yang Chen echoed, testing the words on his tongue. "Yeah, I like that."
She met his gaze, her eyes warm but still tinged with unease. "Then... don't call me Aunt again."
Yang Chen laughed lightly, trying to ease the awkwardness. "Sorry, I got carried away. From now on, it's Sister Lan."
Lin Xilan gave him a small smile, her cheeks still pink. "Good. Now, let me cook you something nice. I picked up some mushrooms and beef—your favorites."
Yang Chen's face brightened. "You really know how to spoil me, Sister Lan."
She rolled her eyes in playful annoyance. "You're such a glutton."
As she moved toward the kitchen, Yang Chen's gaze followed her. Her every step radiated elegance, even in the simplest of movements. He couldn't help but feel a swell of satisfaction. His plan was working, slowly but surely. One step closer.
A month ago, Yang Chen had been reborn into a world he'd only read about in a novel. And not just any world—he was now the villain's son. His fiancée, Shen Xueyan, was the heroine of the story, and the original Yang Chen had been obsessed with her. But she never returned his feelings.
After his rebirth, Yang Chen realized the original had made a fatal mistake—he had relentlessly pursued Shen Xueyan, but that only pushed her further away. The more he chased, the more she distanced herself.
But Lin Xilan? She was different. She had an air of refinement and strength, and Yang Chen knew that cultivating a connection with her would be more than just beneficial—it would give him the leverage he needed in this world. He had offered his help with the cold poison plaguing her, coming to see her every day. Now, after a month, things had started to change. She no longer called him "Senior Brother" but had asked him to call her "Sister Lan."
That simple shift was a victory in itself.
As he sat, his mind wandered. A gentle clatter sounded from the kitchen, and soon, Lin Xilan returned, carrying two plates of food. The rich scent of mushrooms and beef filled the room, making his stomach growl.
"Sister Lan," he said, his tone light, "this smells incredible. If I can't eat your cooking every day, I might just waste away."
Lin Xilan shot him a playful glare. "You and your stomach."
He grinned, digging in as she sat across from him. As they ate, he reached into his storage ring, pulling out a bottle of wine. The ethereal glow from the liquid seemed to hum with power.
"This wine is from the Xuantian Sect," he said, pouring them both a glass. "It'll help with the cold poison. You should try it."
Lin Xilan took a sip, her face lighting up in surprise at the strength of the wine. "It's strong," she said, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I can't drink much more of this."
Yang Chen chuckled. "No worries, it's not about getting you drunk. It's about making sure you feel better."
After the meal, the rain outside began to pour. The sound of it against the windows was soothing, but Lin Xilan's voice cut through the calm.
"Xiaochen," she said softly, "why don't you stay the night? It's coming down hard out there."
Yang Chen knew he could easily leave—the rain was nothing to someone of his cultivation level. But there was no reason to refuse her offer.
"Of course, Sister Lan. I'll stay."
As the night deepened and the storm raged outside, Yang Chen settled in, a smile tugging at his lips. This was only the beginning.
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