It was drizzling outside. The rain had been falling for half an hour without stopping. The dampness gradually seeped into the basement, where tally marks in the shape of “正” characters were scratched into the moldy walls, fed by the moisture.
The character “正” in this context refers to the tally mark system used for counting or tracking days—especially in informal or prison-like conditions.
A man stood barefoot on a bed made of wooden planks. Using fingernails packed with dust and grime, he carefully picked at the crumbling cement below a small window.
Rainwater quickly seeped in. A small stream began to wash away the dust in the crevice. The man pressed one hand tightly against the wall and watched the water slowly pool in his palm.
In that shallow pool of rainwater reflected his disheveled, filthy black hair, his chapped lips. He looked like a beggar on the street—dirty and ragged. Yet his bone structure was remarkably fine: a tall, straight nose, a sharply defined jawline, and a prominent Adam’s apple that slid up and down as he swallowed. He was clearly parched.
Before the water in his hand could fully gather, the sound of footsteps suddenly rang out outside. The man instantly drank all the rainwater in his hand, blocked the leak with cement chunks, and by the time the basement door opened, he was already seated calmly on the wooden bed.
The light snapped on.
The sudden harsh brightness made him instinctively turn away, raising a hand to shield his eyes.
The visitor scanned the room. Seeing that the bowl on the floor was untouched, they slowly crouched down, picked up two soggy pieces of dog food from the edge, and frowned in displeasure.
“Why are you so wasteful? This is premium dog food—twenty yuan per kilogram! Did you do this on purpose because you knew your mother was coming today? I spend so much on you, and you don’t show a shred of gratitude!!!”
The voice grew louder with each accusation. The bowl of dog food was kicked aside with a contorted expression of anger. The kibble scattered across the floor. The empty plastic bowl spun in place, the echo blending eerily with the sound of car horns blaring in his ears.
Si Yunyi slowly opened his eyes in the car. He pulled himself out of the dream to find that it had started drizzling outside. The traffic was heavy and backed up. At the intersection, traffic police in raincoats were waving glowing batons, trying their best to direct the flow.
“What time is it?” Si Yunyi loosened his shirt collar. Perhaps because of the dream, he felt a little thirsty too.
“Young Master Si, it’s already 7:30,” the driver glanced at the time.
Looking at the jam ahead, it would probably take at least another half hour to reach the old house. Si Yunyi’s gaze fell on the streaks of rain sliding down the car window, his expression dimming.
That dream just now must have been about Chu Junlie being mistreated after marrying into the collateral branch of the family. He had dreamed it once before. It must have left such a strong impression that it kept recurring.
If the dream was right, tonight would be the first time Chu Junlie meets the main Si family’s younger generation. He hadn’t yet been sent to the collateral branch—everything was still in time.
The driver watched the traffic creep forward, inch by inch, and could only follow slowly. Suddenly, he heard the sound of a window rolling down behind him. He instinctively stepped on the brake and glanced in the rearview mirror to check what was going on in the back seat.
Young Master Si, for some reason, rolled down the car window. His long, well-defined fingers reached out into the rain for a moment before drawing back in.
His jade-like fingertips lightly touched his lips, as if tasting the rain.
The driver didn’t dare look too much and focused straight ahead, silently tightening his grip on the steering wheel.
At the Si family villa, a group of middle-aged people were in the living room, locked in a heated argument over the marriage alliance.
In the lounge, the five younger members of the main Si family line—ranging from the eldest grandson, already 25 and working in the company, to the youngest at just three years old and in kindergarten—were all gathered around a young man in a mustard brown suit, laughing loudly.
An old-fashioned black cell phone had been pulled out of the young man’s pocket and was now being tossed around among the siblings. The young man stood flustered in the center, chasing after what was clearly the only valuable item he owned.
“Who still uses a phone like this these days?!”
“Big Bro, look at his suit—did he steal it from his grandfather?”
“This is the first time I’ve seen someone pair a suit with camo cloth shoes. My eyes! Oh my God!”
The one called “Big Brother” caught the phone, stepped forward with a grin, and, seeing the young man’s anxious and uneasy expression, smiled even wider.
“So you’re the suddenly-appeared eldest son of the Yan family—Chu Junlie, right?”
“I heard you’re marrying into the Si family. All of us siblings quite like you.”
“Who likes him!” The three-year-old youngest crossed his arms and pouted his lips high.
Big Brother picked him up, pinched his nose, but kept his eyes smiling as he looked at the young man across from him.
“There’s only one of you and so many of us who like you. So I came up with a little game.”
At his signal, the third brother brought out a blindfold—clearly something they had planned ahead.
“You’ve seen that scene in Journey to the West, where Pigsy crashes the heavenly wedding, right?”
Big Brother stood up, attempting to put the blindfold over the young man’s eyes. Chu Junlie had a bad feeling and instinctively resisted. At that moment, he noticed his phone was now in someone else’s hand, held above a cup of liquor.
“What are you trying to do?” Seeing Chu Junlie being forced to wear the blindfold and having a cloth sack thrown over his head, the only girl among the younger Si siblings spoke up, sounding uneasy.
“Don’t be scared, Xuanxuan,” Second Brother said in a low voice. “This is what a scammer deserves.”
Third Brother waved his hand in front of the young man’s face, confirmed he couldn’t see, then nodded to Big Brother.
“Same rules as on TV. If you catch one of us, that person will marry you,” Big Brother said with a smirk, climbing onto the sofa with a tray of liquor.
Hearing that, Si Xuanxuan shrieked and immediately climbed up the bookshelf, trying to stay out of reach. Just as she got a few steps up, she suddenly felt weight on her leg. Looking down, she saw the youngest clinging to her thigh.
“Qi Zai, what are you doing?” Si Xuanxuan whispered. “You afraid of marriage too?”
The three-year-and-six-month-old Si Beiqi clung to his cousin’s leg, looking up with watery eyes. “Sis, save me. I like Lili from the Dragonfly class next door!”
Si Xuanxuan stared at the boy frozen in place, dumbfounded. “You’ve only been in preschool for half a month!”
Si Beiqi blinked innocently. “There’s also Yanyan from Giraffe class… and Xiaoyue… and Luck…”
“You little scumbag!” Si Xuanxuan glared. “You’re done. I’m telling your mom!”
Realizing she had spoken too loudly, Si Xuanxuan clamped her mouth shut. When she looked back up, she saw the young man still standing motionless in place.
“Move already!” Big Brother shouted impatiently from the sofa. “Are you deaf?!”
In total darkness, Chu Junlie tightened his fists and pressed his lips together. Echoes of Madam Yan’s tearful voice and the pile of thick bills on the table spun through his mind.
He took a step forward into the dark, and a stream of liquid—heavy with the scent of alcohol—was dumped onto his head. The cloth sack was soaked. The liquor slid down his neck. Around him, mocking laughter exploded.
One glass after another.
By the time Big Brother had emptied the tray, Chu Junlie’s upper body was drenched. His clothes clung to him in the cold, sticky darkness.
Suddenly, the room fell quiet again.
Only one spot made noise. Chu Junlie knew it was a trap—but they still had his phone. If he didn’t play along, they would never let him go.
Muscles tense, Chu Junlie moved cautiously, guarding against the sudden blow he knew was coming. He pressed his lips into a firm line and followed the sounds.
Si Xuanxuan watched Third Brother stack two chairs on top of the desk and support them with books, creating a crude trap. He was deliberately making noise to lure Chu Junlie in.
Looking at the sturdy chairs, she knew the blow would be harsh. Feeling a bit guilty, she took a deep breath and pinched her little cousin on the butt.
“OW!” Si Beiqi let out a yelp. Chu Junlie turned toward the sound. Third Brother shot a glare at the youngest, displeased, but continued making noise to lure the target.
Just as Chu Junlie was about to step into the trap’s range and Third Brother’s grin began to form, the lounge door suddenly opened.
Third Brother’s face turned annoyed, but the moment he saw who entered, he immediately stood up straight. His face went pale in an instant.
Hearing the commotion from another direction, Chu Junlie groped toward it in the dark. At some point, a faint, cool fragrance had entered the room, piercing through the alcohol smell—cold and crisp, it seemed to reach into his soul.
The scent grew stronger. Chu Junlie’s fingertips brushed against something soft—fabric, maybe clothes. He instinctively grabbed the wrist of the person in front of him.
Everyone in the room froze.
Si Beiqi rubbed his eyes with his little fists, trying to confirm he wasn’t hallucinating.
Silence fell over the lounge like death.
Si Yunyi, who had just arrived, scanned the room, his gaze pausing on each of the younger siblings before landing on the drenched, disheveled man. He could feel the grip on his wrist tightening.
“C-Can I… stop now?” came a slightly trembling voice from under the soaked cloth sack, pressed against the man’s face like a medieval torture device.
Si Yunyi was silent for a moment before raising his hand to untie the string around the soaked cloth sack. He removed it from the man’s head, revealing the black blindfold still covering the man’s eyes.
The man’s pale lips, set beneath a high-bridged nose, were tinged white. His wet black hair still dripped water. Si Yunyi glanced again at the people in the room before removing the blindfold from the man’s face.
Light flooded in instantly. Stimulated by the sudden brightness, Chu Junlie instinctively raised his hand to shield his eyes. When his vision finally adjusted and he saw the person whose wrist he was holding, Chu Junlie felt as though he were seeing a hallucination.
The man whose wrist he held wasn’t anyone from earlier in the room. It was as if he had just stepped out of a painting, shrouded in a soft, glowing aura. His features were exquisitely cold and refined. A pair of silver-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of his straight nose, with an elegant chain looping behind his ears.
He wore a light gray suit over a black shirt, which made his neck look all the more slender and fair. His presence was calm, restrained, almost ascetic. He had the most stunning eyes and brows Chu Junlie had ever seen—even the lenses couldn’t hide them. His dark eyes seemed to carry a glimmer of icy starlight—aloof and distant, yet irresistibly compelling.
The man stood silent, the glasses chain at his ear gently swaying, like it carried the moonlight with it. Chu Junlie snapped out of his daze just as several young voices behind him called out in unison, “Little Uncle.”
Little Uncle?
Chu Junlie stood frozen in confusion.
Si Yunyi looked directly at the man he had seen countless times in his dreams—the man who made the collateral branch’s villa reek of blood for three months. He gave a subtle movement of his wrist, signaling the other to let go.
Only then did Chu Junlie realize, belatedly, that he was still tightly gripping the man’s wrist. He hurriedly let go, but the sensation seemed to linger in his palm.
He couldn’t help but wonder… Was it because his hand was so big that he could wrap around the man’s wrist—with room to spare?
“Little Uncle, why are you here?” the eldest nephew quickly jumped down from the sofa, casually setting aside the tray in his hand, his face full of surprise and delight.
Si Yunyi watched as his niece carried the youngest cousin down from the bookshelf, and the third nephew put the chairs back in place on the desk. The group now stood obediently in front of him, as if nothing had happened earlier.
“What were you doing just now?” Si Yunyi walked past Chu Junlie, his gaze indifferent as he quietly looked at the younger ones.
“We were just playing with Chu Junlie,” said the third nephew with a bright smile, hands behind his back.
Si Yunyi stared at him for two silent seconds.
“Have your parents never warned you not to lie to me?”
Remembering past experiences, the five youngsters immediately fell silent. Si Yunyi glanced at them, then walked over to the third nephew.
He extended his hand. The third nephew blinked, confused as he looked at the slender, well-defined fingers.
“What you’re holding,” Si Yunyi said coldly.
After a glance between each other, the third nephew sheepishly took out the old-fashioned phone and handed it to him.
“I’ll suspend your credit cards for a month. When you get home, you will tell your parents everything that happened here in full detail—how you ganged up on someone, used your numbers to bully the weak.”
Taking the phone, Si Yunyi handed it to Chu Junlie, whose soaked clothes clung to his body.
“Th-Thank you…” Chu Junlie said hoarsely, not daring to meet the man’s gaze. He carefully accepted the phone with both hands.
“Come with me,” Si Yunyi said as he left the lounge.
Chu Junlie was still in a daze, staring blankly at the man’s retreating back.
Si Yunyi turned to look at him silently.
Meeting that pair of noble, distant eyes, Chu Junlie suddenly snapped back to his senses—realizing the words had been directed at him.
Clutching the old phone tightly, his heart thudded irregularly. His body reacted faster than his mind. Without stopping to consider if this might be another trap, he stepped forward and followed.
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