My sister, whom I raised, has turned evil after faking her death for three years.

"Miss Su." Cheng Xuyan walked up to Su Qing's side without anyone noticing.

His expression had returned to its usual indifference, but when he spoke, his tone was noticeably more deliberate than when he spoke to others, as if he had thought about the words several times before letting them out: "My mother... I apologize to you on her behalf for what she told you before. I know that was presumptuous. She's the kind of person who does whatever comes to mind without considering your feelings. You don't have to force yourself."

Su Qing glanced at him and said in a flat tone, "There's nothing to apologize for. It wasn't really helping. It was just saying a few words occasionally. Don't overthink it."

She was still holding Jiang Ran in her arms. The little one had bandages wrapped around her knees, her arms were wrapped around her neck, and her face was buried in her shoulder. She was as quiet as a rag doll.

Before Cheng Xuyan could reply, Cheng Xiaoyu poked his round head out from the side, a corner of his band-aid peeling off his face. He looked up at Su Qing, his eyes gleaming with the excitement of someone who had obtained crucial information: "Sister Su, that's different! Let me tell you, my brother..."

Before he could finish speaking, Cheng Xuyan's hand precisely covered his mouth.

Cheng Xiaoyu's last sentence was muffled into a series of indistinct "uh-uh" sounds, his hands flailing wildly in the air, and the band-aid on his face was squeezed so hard that one corner was sticking up.

Cheng Xuyan covered his younger brother's mouth, turned to Su Qing, and put on that still very polite but obviously embarrassed smile: "Want to ride back together? It's on the way."

Su Qing shook her head: "No need, I'll take Xiao Ran by taxi. Thank you for today."

She glanced at Cheng Chengyan, then looked down at Cheng Xiaoyu who was still struggling, a slight smile playing on her lips. She turned and carried Jiang Ran toward the hospital entrance.

Cheng Xiaoyu finally pried Cheng Chengyan's hand off his mouth. His two chubby hands were wrapped around Cheng Chengyan's wrists, and a red mark was left around his mouth.

He glared angrily at his brother, his small chest heaving, the band-aid on his cheekbone billowing with his heavy breathing: "Why did you cover my mouth! I was just about to tell Sister Su that you were home earlier..."

"Cheng Xiaoyu".

  

The program's tone was calm as still water, but the act of calling out the full name itself carried a natural deterrent force.

The chubby boy was startled by being called by his full name, and then became even more indignant. He hopped around and punched his brother's retreating back, yelling, "I'm already injured and you still bully me! I'm going to go back and tell Mom! You embarrassed me in front of my favorite Sister Su! I have pride too, you know!"

Without turning around, Cheng Xuyan simply reached out and patted the chubby boy on the back of the head, the touch as light as if he were petting a fluffy kitten.

Then, watching Su Qing carry Jiang Ran away into the distance, he remained silent for a moment, and then sighed softly.

The figure walked further and further away into the night, the end of her ponytail swaying gently with each step. The little girl in her arms rested quietly on her shoulder, the white gauze on her knees reflecting a faint light under the streetlights.

Cheng Xiaoyu looked up at his brother, then at Su Qing's retreating figure in the distance, huffed angrily, and then chased after him with his short legs.

The crooked, bow-tied bandage in his hand swayed in the evening breeze as he muttered, "I don't care, I forgive you anyway, I'm magnanimous and won't hold it against you... Hey, slow down!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

On the taxi ride home, Jiang Ran nestled in Su Qing's arms, burying her face in the crook of her neck, and didn't say a word the whole way.

Her fingers gripped Su Qing's collar, not in a tense, overly forceful way, but in a quiet, dependent way, as if afraid that it would disappear if she let go.

The system whispered a reminder in Su Qing's mind: [Jiang Ran's cortisol levels are still too high, and the duration of her depressed mood has exceeded the warning threshold. Active intervention by the host is recommended.]

Su Qing lowered her head and gently nuzzled Jiang Ran's head with her chin: "Does your knee still hurt a lot?"

Jiang Ran shook her head in her arms and mumbled, "It doesn't hurt anymore."

The sound was very soft, but it was shaking violently.

Su Qing didn't ask any further questions, but simply placed her palm on her back and continued to pat her gently, one pat at a time.

After a while, Jiang Ran's voice rang out again, even more muffled than before, each word seeming to be squeezed out from under the pillow: "Sister... I'm sorry."

Su Qing's hand paused for a moment.

She gently pulled Jiang Ran out of her arms a little and looked down at her face.

The little one's eyes were red, the tip of his nose was red, and there were still undried teardrops on his eyelashes, but no new tears were coming out of his eyes.

She wasn't being coquettish or seeking comfort; she was genuinely blaming herself.

"Why are you saying sorry?"

Jiang Ran lowered her eyes, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of Su Qing's clothes: "Because...because it's all because of me that those people scolded my sister."

"I heard everything they said..."

Her voice trailed off, "If it weren't for me, my sister wouldn't have been talked about like that... she wouldn't have been looked down upon..."

Su Qing looked at her without saying a word.

She gently pulled Jiang Ran back into her shoulder, placed her palm on the back of Jiang Ran's head, and rested her chin on the top of her head.

This gesture wasn't so much like comforting her; it was more like a silent, preventative way of stopping her from thinking any further.

"Jiang Ran, listen carefully."

Su Qing's voice was very soft. She rarely called Jiang Ran by her full name, and she pronounced each word clearly. "They're not cursing you, nor me. They're cursing a mirror. The moment you stood in front of them and got first place in the grade, all their shameful thoughts were exposed."

"You think Jiang Yi tore up your test paper because she hates you? No, she's afraid of you. You let her discover that her second place, which she achieved through family background and teacher favoritism, is nothing in front of a truly intelligent child."

"That's why she got so angry and embarrassed, and that's why she called those two people who were even dumber than her for help. The one who's really shameful isn't you, it's them."

She reached out and brushed away the stray hairs stuck to Jiang Ran's forehead with sweat, her fingertips gently brushing against her brow bone. Her tone softened from its previous seriousness, taking on a touch of unintentional warmth: "And who said our Xiao Ran doesn't have an adult to back her up? Isn't your sister me? If anyone dares to bully you again, come back and tell me, and I'll climb through their window in the middle of the night and beat them all up."

Jiang Ran remained quiet in her arms for two seconds, then burst out laughing.

She raised her face, her eyes still red, but the corners of her mouth were turned up, and corrected her in a very serious tone: "Sister, it's wrong to climb through someone's window."

Su Qing glanced down at her, her expression serious: "Who said that? Last time I climbed through the window to pick you up, and it worked very well."

She reached out and gently touched Jiang Ran's delicate nose, then solemnly told her again, "Ran, you must remember, the first step to getting help is learning to ask for it. No matter who bullies you, you must tell your sister, okay?"

Upon hearing this, Jiang Ran nodded earnestly in return.

The system emitted a very soft notification sound in Su Qing's mind, its tone unusually tinged with confusion: [Host, the educational content of your words just now has exceeded all your previous data records.]

[Based on analysis, your educational aptitude rating may need to be upgraded from D to --]

"No," Su Qing interrupted it in her mind, "I still want to be my D-rank. D-rank is great, there's no pressure."

The system paused for a moment, seemingly checking the database for the validity of the statement, before calmly responding: [Understood, Level D has been retained. The previous statement was indeed effective—Jiang Ran's cortisol levels have decreased by 26%, and her smile is genuine, with a credibility of 97%.]

[Host, whether you like it or not, you're becoming less and less of a novice at being a big sister.]

Su Qing did not answer it.

She pulled Jiang Ran back into her arms, letting the little one rest her head on her shoulder.

Outside the car window, the city lights receded one by one. She lowered her head and rubbed Jiang Ran's hair, a small, helpless smile curving her lips.