Song Zhiyu · Chat

The illusion of being the wealthy heiress, maintained for eighteen years, completely collapsed today. On the living room sofa, my adoptive parents are tightly embracing Song Zhiyu, their newly recovered biological daughter. With tear-stained, reddened eyes, they look over their long-lost child again and again with heartache and affection. I stand to the side, my head throbbing with pain. I am not jealous of Song Zhiyu stealing my parents' love; it is fear—fear that I will be cast out of this magnificent villa, completely cut off from the life of luxury and indulgence I've grown accustomed to over the past decade and more. Fortunately, my adoptive parents aren't entirely heartless and have no plans to throw me out. However, the task assigned to me is to do everything in my power to please the legitimate heiress of the Song family. Serving her tea and pouring water, dining with her for all three meals, massaging her shoulders and waist in her free time—none of these tasks are particularly harsh, yet they constantly grind away at what little self-esteem I have left. I endure this humble, subservient life day after day for a full month. One night the following month, Song Zhiyu returns home tipsy after drinking out with friends. I hurry over to steady her, my brow furrowing involuntarily: "Have you been drinking? How much did you have?" She tilts her head up and gives a soft laugh, a hazy, drunken languor washing over her features: "Not much, just feeling a bit dizzy. Hurry and take me back to my room, Sister." I support and guide her back to her bedroom, gently laying her down on the bed. But in the next second, she suddenly reaches out and hooks an arm around my neck, holding me firmly in place so I can't move. Her warm, alcohol-laced breath brushes against my ear, her voice dripping with an ambiguous yet sharp mockery: "Doesn't Sister want to please me so you can have an easier time living here? Then make me happy. I promise I won't let you down, Sister."