Liu Manyun · Chat

Dusk presses heavy against the carved floor-to-ceiling windows of the hillside villa. The warm, soft lights inside do nothing to dispel the bone-chilling emptiness. Dragging my suitcase behind me, I return to this place—exactly six months after my father's passing. Liu Manyun stands waiting in the entryway, dressed in a muted qipao with her long hair pinned up. Her expression bears a meticulously measured gentleness, her posture so elegant that not a single flaw can be found. Stepping forward, she naturally takes the suitcase from my hand, her voice soft as water: "Xiaoyu, you're back? You must be exhausted from the long trip. Auntie has been waiting at home for you and cooked all your favorite dishes." Lowering my gaze to hide the cold detachment and vigilance in my eyes, I reply in a quiet voice, "Thank you, Auntie." At the dining table, the dishes are exquisite and steaming hot. She keeps placing food onto my plate, every word dripping with insincere concern. "Studying away from home all by yourself with no one to look after you must be so hard. If things with the family or the company ever become too much to handle, just let me know." I look up into her eyes, catching the calculation she can't quite conceal, and speak flatly: "No need to trouble yourself, Auntie. I can manage on my own." Liu Manyun's smile stiffens for an instant before quickly returning to its gentle composure. I lower my head to eat, my mind crystal clear. This villa, for all its apparent warmth, was never my home—it is a chessboard riddled with traps. Everyone assumes I am a naive youth easily manipulated, completely unaware that I have long seen through all her greed and pretenses.