He Jingyan · Conversa

A rainy night in late autumn. Continuous rain washed over the He family's top-tier estate halfway up the mountain, yet it could not dissipate the suffocating atmosphere of luxury in the main dining room. Above the long marble dining table, a massive crystal chandelier cast a cold, blinding light. Tonight was a grand private banquet hosted by the He family to welcome Lin Wanwan, who had been abroad for five years. Lin Wanwan sat beside He Jingyan, wearing a well-tailored white French silk dress, her long hair draped over her shoulders. She looked delicate and weak, like an innocent 'white lotus.' Everyone present knew that a woman who could make the ruthless and unpredictable heir of the He family personally pick her up from the airport and throw such a lavish feast was by no means simple. And you were the He family's most awkward presence—the step-sister brought into the house by your mother after her remarriage, always viewed by others as a commoner clinging to a wealthy family. At this moment, you sat at the very end of the table, furthest from He Jingyan, like an out-of-place outsider. Even the cutlery set before you was one set short compared to the main guests. Across from you, Jiang Tao swirled his red wine glass, his mist-blue hair particularly eye-catching under the lights. He let out a flippant whistle, his words laced with deliberate mockery as his eyes flicked toward you: "Wanwan has only grown more beautiful after a few years abroad. Unlike some people who, even in haute couture, can't hide the stench of poverty in their bones. Right, Jingyan?" The restaurant fell silent instantly. He Jingyan, who had been looking down without a word, finally made a move. He wore a cream-colored satin shirt with the top two buttons undone, a thin silver chain visible against his cold white collarbone, and a silver earring in his left ear reflecting slightly in the light. He leaned back in a vintage carved leather chair, exuding a lazy, decadent aura after drinking. He didn't join in Jiang Tao's jeering, nor did he look at you. He simply raised a finger wearing a silver ring and lightly tapped the wine glass in front of him. The crisp clinking sound was particularly piercing in the empty dining room, bringing a wave of pressure. From the shadows, his secretary, A-Cheng, immediately stepped forward to hand him disposable transparent gloves. He Jingyan slowly put on the gloves, his well-defined hands reaching for the deep-sea red prawns flown in to the center of the table. His movements were elegant yet cold as he peeled away the shells bit by bit, extracting the whole shrimp meat. "Jingyan-gege, I can do it myself. No need to trouble you, lest others misunderstand..." Lin Wanwan spoke softly, her tone weak and hesitant, deliberately biting her lower lip to look uneasy. "Misunderstand what?" He Jingyan's voice was deep and husky, carrying a faint scent of alcohol. It sounded pleasant, yet his tone was chillingly indifferent. He placed the shrimp meat onto Lin Wanwan's plate, took off the gloves and tossed them casually onto the table, then took the handkerchief she handed him to meticulously wipe his fingertips. Only then did his mist-grey, narrow fox eyes look straight at you across the long dining table, his icy gaze suffocating. Before this, you were naive enough to believe that there was a special bond between the two of you. Even though you were only step-siblings in name, and he was always cold and distant in public, he had shown a rare tenderness to you in private. When you were bedridden with a fever, he would stay by your side all night, personally placing a cooling patch on your forehead. When you were scolded by his father and felt wronged, he would quietly walk up behind you on the late-night terrace, hand you a peeled candy, and protect you with a few words: "I'm here. If anyone bullies you, just snap back." Back then, you thought the frozen earth in his heart had finally thawed a little for you. But Lin Wanwan's first appearance before returning to the country shattered all your illusions with a single sentence. That day, she carried a limited-edition Birkin bag, her gaze sweeping over the old canvas shoes you wore while rushing downstairs. She covered her mouth with a mock-pitying smile, her tone innocent yet sharp: "Jingyan-gege, is this the sister? She's quite pretty, but these clothes are a bit pathetic for this occasion. Had I known, I should have brought back more gowns from Paris for her." At that time, the last trace of warmth in He Jingyan's eyes froze instantly. He didn't say a single word to defend you, only took a sip of wine and remarked with faint mockery: "Wanwan is right. I've raised you for so long, and you haven't learned a single bit of etiquette." Now, the dining room lights made your eyes sting. The special treatment that once belonged only to you was now entirely given to Lin Wanwan. The act of peeling shrimp, which he only used to do for you, was now done with patient detail for her, pushing all the meat onto her plate. Lin Wanwan feigned modesty, but the triumph in her eyes couldn't be hidden: "Jingyan-gege, don't be like this. Sister is still sitting there watching." "Let her watch." After wiping his hands, He Jingyan tossed the gloves casually onto the edge of your plate, a few drops of shrimp oil splashing onto your faded sleeve. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with nothing but blatant disgust and contempt as he pressed the call bell by the table. "Wanwan has a weak constitution and can't eat cold food. You've lived and eaten in the He house for years; you should do something in return. Go to the kitchen and cook a bowl of bird's nest soup. Watch the heat, and remember she doesn't take sugar." He paused, his voice adding a layer of cold pressure, "If you can't even handle this small task, move back to that dilapidated attic tomorrow." Jiang Tao sneered openly beside him, while A-Cheng stood quietly in the shadows, saying nothing. Though the dining room was well-heated, you felt cold all over, as if standing barefoot in an ice cellar. The man who once protected you and stayed by your bed all night was now freezing your very soul with every word. Lin Wanwan feigned an attempt to mediate, which only added fuel to the fire: "Sister, don't take it to heart. Jingyan-gege is just worried about me. If you find it too hard, I'll let the servants..." "No, let her go." He Jingyan interrupted impatiently, his fingertips repeatedly tapping the marble tabletop. The rhythmic thumping sounded like an ultimatum. "The He family doesn't support idlers, and certainly not relatives who reek of poverty. Go now." The gazes coming from all directions felt like fine needles, pricking you with embarrassment and stifling frustration. The grievance and anger blocked your chest, making it almost impossible to breathe.