The baby slapped me, and I said, "Sit on my lap and slap me."

When the song ended, Wen Yan hurriedly let go and left, not even daring to look at Wen Zhaoyue's worried expression.

Cold water was splashed on my face, over and over again.

He leaned against the edge of the sink, panting heavily, and looked up at his flushed and disheveled face in the mirror.

"Wen Yan, are you crazy?" he whispered to himself in the mirror, his voice hoarse beyond belief.

"She's just a pawn, just a pawn."

He felt that relationships would only hold him back, and he vowed to rise above others and inherit the Wen family business as a matter of course.

He shouldn't have such thoughts, he shouldn't.

Wen Yan took a deep breath, grabbed a few tissues to wipe the water off her face, and put on her usual gentle smile in the mirror.

But the undercurrent deep within those eyes could not be suppressed no matter what.

From that day on, Wen Yan began to avoid Wen Zhaoyue.

He tried his best to suppress this feeling, which even he found unfamiliar, but the more he suppressed it, the more fiercely it rebounded.

The way she ate fruit in the living room while wearing pajamas; the way she walked through the hallway with her hair half-wet after a shower; the way she lay on the sofa flipping through magazines, her toes swinging back and forth...

Every image seemed etched into his mind, haunting him and surging up even more intensely in the dead of night.

That night, he had a dream.

There was no one else in the dream, only her and herself.

He pressed Wen Zhaoyue's head down, kissed her lips passionately, and entwined with her tenderly, their fingers intertwined.

Her voice, soft as water, as she called him "Ayan" echoed in his ear, completely captivating him...

Wen Yan suddenly woke up from his dream, his heart pounding and his whole body covered in sweat.

He froze on the bed, and it took him a long time to slowly sit up. He lifted the blanket and took a look, his ears instantly turning bright red.

He sat motionless in the darkness for a long time before slowly covering his face, a trembling sigh escaping through his fingers.

It can't be contained.

He was embarrassed to discover that he liked Wen Zhaoyue.

No, it's not just liking, it's love to be precise.

It's the kind of love that seeps into your bones, is inescapable, and is terminally ill.

Perhaps it was when he was eight years old, when he first saw the girl on the stairs, that the seed of liking was planted.

Even though Wen Zhaoyue frowned and glared at him angrily, like a cat with its fur standing on end, her whole body seemed to say "I hate you".

But Wen Yan could still remember it clearly.

The white dress made her look absolutely gorgeous, like an eye-catching doll.

I don't dislike her; on the contrary, I find her quite cute.

For so many years, he thought he was just using Wen Zhaoyue, just pretending.

But that seed kept sprouting and taking root, growing wildly in the shadows, and entwining every inch of his bones and blood.

At this moment, it finally broke through the soil and could no longer be hidden.

Wen Yan slowly lowered his hand, opened his eyes in the darkness, and stared at the ceiling.

After an unknown amount of time, the corners of his mouth slowly curved up, and his eyes shone with an astonishing light, as if a flame had suddenly been ignited in the darkness.

Right.

My sister is so beautiful and wonderful, it's not strange that I fell in love with her.

He loves her, so he can become her other half and still inherit the Wen family business.

Wen Yan touched his chaotic heart and convinced himself one sentence at a time.

Yes, that can also achieve the goal.

But the pounding of his heart in his chest betrayed him time and time again.

Wen Yan no longer avoided Wen Zhaoyue, and they resumed their usual way of getting along, everything was as normal, as if nothing had happened.

Only he knew that every time their eyes met, the wild beast inside him was pounding wildly against its cage.

He waited for two months.

When Wen Zhaoyue and her friends had arranged to go to a bar to celebrate her acceptance letter, it was that night when she was most relaxed and least on guard.

In the dimly lit booth, after a few rounds of drinks, Wen Zhaoyue's cheeks flushed slightly, and she laughed more flamboyantly and unrestrainedly than usual.

Wen Yan sat beside her, his fingertips silently gliding along the rim of the wine glass, pushing the pill into the amber liquid, watching it melt away without a sound.

He was trembling all over when he handed her the glass.

"Sister, this drink tastes good, you should try it."

Wen Zhaoyue took it, tilted her head back and took a big gulp, then smacked her lips. "It's alright, a little sweet."

Wen Yan lowered her eyes, her eyelashes concealing all the turbulent emotions within them.

What happened next was like a dream he had rehearsed countless times but still couldn't control.

He half-supported, half-carried the drunken Wen Zhaoyue into the hotel room. She leaned on his shoulder, her breath hot, and mumbled his name incoherently.

"Ayan...Ayan, I'm so hot..."

The drug took effect, and his sister could no longer distinguish between reality and confusion.

Wen Yan knew his own despicable and wretched state, but when Wen Zhaoyue groggily raised her head, her eyes, brimming with the effects of alcohol and drugs, looked at him, and her lips brushed against his chin.

Wen Yan's eyes still reddened.

Her eyelashes trembled, and a tear slid down her cheek, landing on Wen Zhaoyue's collarbone.

"elder sister……"

He pressed his lips to her earlobe and uttered each word slowly and deliberately, as if in prayer or confession, "Who am I?"

Wen Zhaoyue wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes glazed over, a smile playing on her lips, "Ayan... Ayan..."

His heart felt as if it had been squeezed tightly, aching and throbbing as if it were about to burst.

Do you like me?

"I like..." Her voice was as soft as water, "I like Ayan the most..."

He knew it was the effect of the drug, he knew she wasn't fully conscious, and he knew her feelings for him were just those of a brother and sister.

But he still kept those words to himself, like a drowning person grabbing onto the last piece of driftwood.

"Sister, you said you liked me, so don't regret it."

His kisses landed on her brow, the tip of her nose, and her lips, devout yet greedy.

His fingertips traced every inch of her skin, as if he were painting a picture that had been treasured for many years.

"Sister, do you like it?"

Wen Zhaoyue hugged his neck tightly, her nails digging into his shoulder blades, her voice breaking into fragments.

"Do you want me?"

She couldn't utter a complete sentence; she could only nod and sob, as if she were surrendering her whole being to him.

"Sister, is that it?"

"Sister, is that enough force?"

"Sister, are you feeling comfortable?"

"elder sister."

"elder sister."

"elder sister....."

He shouted it over and over again, as if he wanted to pour out all the repressed, restrained, and unspeakable things.

From dusk to midnight, from midnight to dawn, from bed to bathroom, from bathroom to the floor-to-ceiling window.

The city lights flickered beneath his feet as he held her in his arms, as if she were the only treasure in the world that belonged to him.

I can't bear to let go, and I dare not let go.

As dawn broke, Wen Zhaoyue finally fell into a deep sleep, curled up in his arms, her breathing even and long.

Wen Yan looked down at her sleeping face, his fingertips gently brushing across her swollen lips and the dried tear stains at the corners of her eyes.

He pulled her closer to him, rested his chin on the top of her head, and closed his eyes.

After a long while, a very soft sigh echoed in the room.

"Sister, I'm sorry."

His voice seemed to be squeezed out from the deepest part of his chest, carrying a tremor that had been suppressed for too long, and a kind of relief that had finally surrendered.

"But I don't regret it, you're mine now."

"It can only be mine."

He knew that once his sister regained consciousness, she would definitely run away, unable to face him.

But to outsiders, it was his sister who was holding him tightly and refusing to let go, and he was the one being forced.

Pretending to be weak and obedient is his forte.

He would make everyone think that his sister had bullied him.

He would shake his head and say it was okay when his sister felt guilty, he would hide away before his sister tried to avoid him, he would give his sister a strong dose of medicine when she was wavering, he would play hard to get when his sister took responsibility for him, and he would maintain the image of a well-behaved, sensible, and submissive younger brother in front of everyone.

The best hunters often disguise themselves as prey; they have plenty of patience.

He would lure his sister into his trap step by step.

Until she could no longer leave.

Until they are never apart again.