Transmigrated into the cannon fodder younger sister of the uke in a BL novel

The next day, Wen Fan prepared to go to work.

He was changing his shoes in the entryway when Wenqing stood at the door to see him off, still holding the milk he had warmed for her that morning.

"Brother, be careful on the road," she said with a smile.

Wen Fan tied her shoelaces, straightened up, smiled at her, and then, as usual, began to instruct her: "...Stay home and take good care of yourself. There are groceries in the fridge from yesterday. If you don't want to cook, you can order takeout, but at least order something clean. And don't open the door if a stranger knocks...Remember to call me if anything happens."

Wenqing nodded obediently and said, "I understand."

Wen Fan pushed open the door, and before walking out, he couldn't help but look back at her.

Wenqing stood inside the door, with the small, dark old house behind her.

The living room windows face north and never get any sunlight, so even during the day, the lights need to be on.

The warm yellow light shone on her, making her face appear soft and pale.

Behind her, on the old coffee table, were a few paintbrushes and an open sketchbook. The pothos on the windowsill was growing well, with tender green tips hanging down from its vines.

She stayed in this room every day, from morning till night, waiting for him to come home, like a bird trapped in a cage. The cage was just big enough for her to live in, but not big enough for her to spread her wings.

Wen Fan suddenly felt a surge of bittersweetness in his chest.

Isn't he being too selfish?

Under the guise of doing what's best for her, they keep her in this cramped house.

It deprived her of social interaction, friends, and a life of her own.

She could only wait for him to come home alone every day, like a plant planted in a flowerpot, watered, fertilized, and moved to a sunny place by him on time, but never able to step into the real soil on her own.

Her world consisted only of this old house of a few dozen square meters and her brother.

He used to think this was protection, a necessary measure, a compromise that had to be made because her heart was too fragile.

But now, standing at the door and looking back at her, he suddenly felt uncertain.

Wen Qing noticed that his gaze gradually changed, becoming more complex, seemingly containing guilt, hesitation, and other emotions she couldn't immediately decipher.

"Brother, what's wrong? Is there something on my face?"

Wen Qing looked puzzled and unconsciously touched her face.

Wen Fan did not answer directly.

His gaze passed over her and landed on the pile of paintbrushes and sketchbooks on the living room table.

The sketchbook was open, and the latest page seemed to depict a pothos plant on the windowsill. The lines were smooth, the leaves were clearly layered, and it looked more vibrant than the real thing.

She paints very well, always has.

When she was a child in the orphanage, there were no toys, so she used the pencil stub given to her by the director to draw little flowers and grass on the edges of old newspapers.

Later, while she was hospitalized, she drew nurses, trees outside the window, and the child in the next bed.

However, she has been in poor health and lacked energy in recent years, so she put down her paintbrush for a long time. But she has recently picked it up again and is painting even better than before.

"Qingqing..." He looked away, gazing at his sister's porcelain-white face, "Do you want your brother to send you to art class?"

Wen Qing was stunned for a moment.

Looking at Wen Fan's expression, and confirming that he wasn't joking, she hesitated before speaking, "But my body..."

"It's okay. Learning to draw isn't strenuous exercise, so it won't put any strain on your body."

Wen Fan said this in a serious tone, without the slightest hint of casualness or perfunctoriness.

"If you're worried about getting into trouble on the way, I can pick you up and drop you off. I can adjust my class schedule, and if that's not possible, I can ask Ah-Jie to cover for you..."

Seeing his serious expression, Wenqing knew he had made his decision.

She felt a warm glow inside, but insisted, "No need, no need, I'm not useless, I can go and come back by myself."

Wen Fan smiled and asked, "Do you want to go?"

"Of course," Wen Qing nodded, then tilted her head to look at him, "But brother, why did you suddenly want to send me to learn to paint?"

Wen Fan reached out and touched her head; his palm was warm, and his touch was very gentle.

He sighed.

"I just don't want you to stay home all day. You're healthier than before, and I want you to go out, make friends, and experience the life a normal girl should live... Besides, don't you like drawing?"

Wen Qing was completely stunned upon hearing this.

She originally thought he just wanted to give her something to do because she was bored lately, but she didn't expect him to think so far ahead.

The life of a normal girl... is a long time ago for her.

Since her heart suffered irreparable damage, she can no longer run and jump like a normal person.

She actually really enjoys going out, but in order not to cause trouble for her brother, she prefers to stay at home alone, waiting for him to come home day after day.

But people ultimately yearn for sunshine and the warmth of everyday life, yet she could only suppress her inner desires.

She knew her brother had already worked hard enough, and she didn't want to cause him any more trouble.

Wen Qing looked up and met Wen Fan's gentle gaze. Her eyes welled up with tears, which came quickly, catching her off guard.

When Wen Fan saw the light in her eyes, he panicked immediately, took a step forward, and reached out to wipe away the tears that hadn't yet fallen from the corners of her eyes.

"Why are you crying? Did your brother say something mean?"

Wenqing blinked hard to force back her tears; her voice was a little hoarse, but the corners of her mouth were curved.

"No, it's just that I'm so touched... Brother, you're so good to me."

When Wen Fan heard that she was crying because of this, he felt both sorry for her and amused. He ran his thumb across her wet eyelashes, his tone half indulgent and half helpless.

"Fool, is this what you call being good to you? You're too easily satisfied."

Wenqing hummed twice in dissatisfaction.

But she felt warm inside, like being tucked into a warm, sun-dried quilt.

This older brother says, "This is what it means to be good to you," but in reality, everything he has done since the day he dropped out of school has been "for her good."

She felt she could never repay such kindness in her lifetime.

……

Wen Fan moved very quickly.

I found a suitable art studio in less than two days. It wasn't far from home, just a few bus stops away, and the fees were reasonable. The teacher was a graduate of an art academy, and the student works posted on my WeChat Moments were of a very high standard.

Wen Fan even made a trip there himself, chatted with the teacher for half an hour, and when he came back, he put the address of the art studio and the class schedule in front of Wen Qing and said, "You can go and try a class tomorrow."

So Wenqing went to the art studio the next day.

The art studio is located on the second floor of a commercial building, with large windows and excellent natural light.

The afternoon sun slanted in through the south-facing window, falling on the easel and creating distinct light and shadow.

The room had a smell of turpentine mixed with pencil shavings, which wasn't pleasant but inexplicably calming.

The studio wasn't big; including Wenqing, there were ten students scattered around in front of their respective easels, ranging in age from teenagers to those in their thirties or forties.

Ms. Su is a beautiful woman in her early thirties with long hair and a soft voice, but she is very insightful when it comes to guiding painting and is very patient with everyone.

Wen Qing liked the place after just one trial class, and Wen Fan was relieved to see her happy.

However, on the third day, a new person joined the studio.

He was an eighteen or nineteen-year-old boy with fluffy, soft flaxen curly hair. His amber eyes appeared even lighter in the sunlight. His features were excessively delicate, with a high nose bridge and distinct lips, giving him a slightly mixed-race look. He resembled a large, meticulously dressed porcelain doll.

He walked in carrying a painting tube, and when he greeted Teacher Wen, his attitude was casual yet naturally affectionate.

Suddenly, the live chat started.

[Huh? Why is my little sister learning to draw? Is this part in the original story?]

[You missed the background, didn't you? It was Wen Fan who sent her to learn this, wanting her younger sister to live a normal girl's life.]

Wen Fan is so gentle; he's like both a brother and a mother to everyone, taking care of everything.

Wait—who's that new guy who came in? Flaxen curly hair, amber eyes?

[Su Yi'an!!! That's Su Yi'an!!! The villainous male supporting character from the original novel!!! What's he doing here???]

[I remember in the original novel, Su Yi'an studied art. His aunt ran an art studio, and he had a very good relationship with her. He would occasionally go to the studio to help out or paint on his own.]

So this art studio is run by his aunt? And his sister and Su Yi'an bumped into each other beforehand?

[What a small world! In the original story, Su Yi'an was the direct culprit who killed his sister, and now the two of them are actually sitting in the same art studio painting.]

However, it's still early in the timeline. Su Yi'an doesn't know Wen Fan yet, and he doesn't resent Lin Zhiyan because of her. He probably won't do anything to his sister.

[But it's such a coincidence that these two just happened to meet like this; the plot is definitely up to something.]

After reading the comments, Wen Qing's gaze fell on the boy by the window.

Su Yi'an was resting her chin on her hand, lazily scribbling on the drawing paper with her other hand, her posture carrying a nonchalant air that belonged to her age.

He seemed to sense that someone was watching him, and suddenly looked up, staring straight at Wen Qing.

Warmth did not shy away.

She didn't panic when she was caught red-handed. She smiled slightly at him, nodded, and her expression was friendly and natural.

Su Yi'an glanced at her, then gave a light snort without expression and turned her head back, her attitude subtly revealing arrogance.

The live chat immediately began to comment.

[Su Yi'an is so arrogant! He gets this attitude just because someone greets him?]

[In the original work, his personality is like this: an arrogant young master who is indifferent to people he doesn't know well, but is actually quite nice once he gets to know them.]

[But he became truly vicious later on, doing so many terrible things to Wen Fan; jealousy completely distorted his character.]

I can never forgive him for causing my sister's death.

[But to be honest, Su Yi'an in this timeline hasn't done anything bad yet; he's just a spoiled young master.]

Wen Qing didn't care about Su Yi'an's attitude.

She looked away and continued drawing her sketch, but silently made a decision in her heart—to stay away from this person from now on.

Regardless of whether he has malicious intent now, in everyone's foresight, he is the direct murderer who killed her and the fuse that drove his brother down the path of revenge.

She couldn't be sure if he would go down that path again in the future, but until she figured it out, the safest strategy was to keep her distance.

The three-hour class in the afternoon went by quickly.

Wenqing packed up her paintbrushes and sketchbook, slung her bag over her shoulder, and went downstairs.

When she reached the stairwell, she saw Wen Fan standing by the sycamore tree downstairs from the art studio. He was wearing a simple white T-shirt and dark trousers, looking refined and gentle.

The shadows of the trees fell on him, and the dappled sunlight swayed gently in the wind.

Wen Qing was about to run over when she suddenly saw a tall man standing next to Wen Fan, wearing a thin suit jacket and looking composed.

It is Lin Zhiyan.

The two were talking; the atmosphere wasn't particularly lively, but it wasn't awkward either—it was like a polite and restrained exchange of pleasantries.

As Wen Qing walked over, Lin Zhiyan and Wen Fan both stopped talking and looked at her.

Wen Fan reached out and took her backpack naturally: "How was your day?"

"Today went very smoothly," Wen Qing smiled at him, then turned to Lin Zhiyan and nodded obediently, "Hello, Mr. Lin."

"Hello there."

Lin Zhiyan responded with a gentle smile, but that smile lingered in her eyes for a few seconds longer.

Seeing this girl instantly reminded him of the scene where his arrogant cousin, with those five words on his head, flew into a rage in the hotel, a memory that still makes him chuckle.

The girl in front of me looks well-behaved and pretty, like a quiet little white flower blooming in a corner.

But this seemingly fragile little girl was the one who made Ah Qin look so foolish that time.

The saying "You can't judge a book by its cover" is perfectly exemplified in this girl's case.

Just then, a clear voice came from behind.

"Brother Lin..."

Wenqing turned her head when she heard the sound.

Su Yi'an was walking out of the stairwell, her flaxen curly hair shimmering with a light golden luster in the afternoon sunlight, and her amber eyes lit up the moment she saw Lin Zhiyan.

A smile bloomed on his face, a stark contrast to his arrogant and aloof demeanor in the studio just moments before; all his arrogance and coldness melted away in that instant.