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

Inside the hospital, when Wu Yue pushed open the ward door again, Yin Wan was leaning against the headboard, looking out the window.

The morning light shone through the gaps in the blinds onto her face, casting a rare warmth on her face, which had been worn almost transparent by illness.

She turned around when she heard footsteps, and gave him a slight smile, so subtle that it was almost imperceptible, but Wu Yue still caught it.

He thought she had calmed down, that her words last night, "Let's talk about it after this period of time has passed," were serious, and that the thin tacit understanding between them could last for a while longer.

He sat down in the old chair by the bed, picked the reddest apple from the fruit basket on the bedside table, and began to peel it.

His technique remained skillful; the blade moved steadily in circles along the fruit peel, slicing thin, unbroken strips that landed in circles on the tissue paper laid on his knees.

Yin Wan loves to eat apples; this is a habit they had when they first got married and lived in a rented apartment.

Back then, he would peel an apple for her every day after get off work, and she always said that the apples he peeled were sweeter than those peeled by others.

Later, she fell ill, and the side effects of chemotherapy made her lose her appetite. Apples gradually disappeared from her diet.

Today, when he was peeling this apple, she surprisingly didn't say, "Stop peeling it, I don't want to eat it."

He talked to her as he peeled the leaves, saying that the weather had been really nice these past few days, and that most of the leaves on the sycamore trees behind the hospital had turned yellow, exactly the same color as her favorite scarf.

I said that when she feels a little better, I want to take her downstairs to get some sun. We don't need to go far, just sit in the courtyard where the faded sheets are drying, billowing like sails in the wind.

Yin Wan listened quietly, her gaze fixed on his hands, which trembled slightly as he peeled the apple.

She had looked at these hands for decades. When they were young, the knuckles were distinct, and they were very strong when they carried her. They led her up the long steps of the Civil Affairs Bureau, carried her from the rented room to the wedding car, and massaged her back every night after she fell ill and couldn't sleep because of the pain.

Now these hands are old, the skin is loose, and the veins are prominent, but these hands are still steady, still gentle, and will still peel an apple for her every day.

  

She suddenly spoke, her voice very soft, as if it were drifting from a very far distance: "Ah Yue, you always say that my favorite apple is the Fuji, but I've always wanted to tell you that I prefer the Variety apple."

Wu Yue paused for a moment while peeling the apple, looked up at her, somewhat surprised.

He's been peeling Fuji apples for so many years, and she's never mentioned it.

He said, "Why didn't you tell me sooner? I'll go buy it for you right now."

Yin Wan didn't answer his question. She simply looked away from his hand and gazed at the row of sycamore trees outside the window, their leaves turning yellow in the autumn wind. Her tone was as indifferent as if she were just saying it casually: "You always treat me well according to your own ideas, and you never ask me what I really want."

Wu Yue was stunned.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Yin Wan didn't give him a chance to speak, and continued, "When you did those things, you never asked if I agreed. You made all the decisions for me, keeping me in the dark for more than ten years, and now you're not even willing to tell the truth... Everything you did was 'for my own good,' but have you ever thought about whether I actually want this kind of 'good'?"

She turned her head to look at him. His eyes were no longer filled with the fiery questioning of last night; instead, they were cold, colder than the autumn chill outside the window. "A-Yue, I don't want to see you right now. Go away. I want to be alone for a while."

Wu Yue sat there, still holding the half-peeled apple in his hand, the blade suspended in mid-air.

His expression shifted from surprise to bewilderment, then to helplessness, and finally all his emotions froze in that smile that hadn't yet fully blossomed.

He slowly stood up, placed the half-peeled apple and fruit knife on the bedside table, picked up a tissue, carefully wrapped up the scattered apple peel, and threw it into the trash can.

He paused at the door, glanced back at her, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he said nothing, gently closed the door and left.

Yin Wan leaned against the pillow, listening to his footsteps gradually fade away in the corridor until she could no longer hear them.

Then she turned her gaze away from the doorway and onto the fruit knife lying quietly on the bedside table.

The blade was still stained with apple juice, glistening faintly under the fluorescent light.

She reached out, took the knife, and put it in the innermost drawer of the bedside table.

Her movements were slow and gentle, as if she were finally placing a decision that had been prepared for a long time into its proper place.

Meanwhile, in a coffee shop on the other side of the city, Cui Jiayi was holding a cup of Americano, smiling as she looked at Cui Ying across from her.

Today, she deliberately chose an elegant beige cardigan, and her hair was simply tied up in a bun at the back of her head. She didn't wear exaggerated earrings or spray strong perfume, and she looked low-key and gentle.

She even arrived half an hour early, ordered Cui Ying's favorite Earl Grey tea, and asked the waiter to replace it with a hot one when it got cold.

Cui Ying sat opposite her, with two tall bodyguards in black suits standing behind her. One had a buzz cut and the other short hair. They had their hands behind their backs and were expressionless.

Cui Ying didn't touch the tea. She just chatted with her casually, asking how she was doing and if she was feeling well.

Her attitude was much more relaxed than when they last met; she didn't have a cold face and didn't bring up the unpleasant things from before.

But that intimacy stopped at the most basic politeness between a stepsister and her stepsister, and nothing more.

Cui Jiayi smiled and said that she has been doing well lately, but she keeps thinking about the time she spent at home and feels very sorry for her sister.

She spoke with such sincerity that she almost believed it herself.

Then, as if she had suddenly remembered something, she said that she had always wanted to go to the Jiang family to apologize to her brother-in-law and Xiao Yi in person. After all, she had done so many wrong things before, and she would feel guilty if she didn't go to their house to say it in person.

She spoke softly and naturally, as if she were talking about something trivial, but the hand resting on her knee under the table had its nails digging into its palm.

She's been having a tough time lately.

The news that the Jiang family had kicked her out had already begun to circulate in their social circle. First, someone subtly asked her why they hadn't seen her at the Jiang family's banquets for a long time. Then, several ladies who had originally planned to have afternoon tea together suddenly canceled their plans. Later, even the receptionist at the beauty salon she frequented started to ignore her.

She knew that if she didn't show her face at the Jiang family again, all those who fawned over her would disappear like the receding tide, leaving her completely exposed on the beach.

So she had to go back, even if it was just to stand there and let people see her standing with the Jiang family. As long as she took a few photos and posted a few locations, those rumors would be dispelled.

After listening to her, Cui Ying looked at the sincere and ingratiating smile on her face and remained silent for a while.

Then she picked up the now-cold cup of black tea, took a sip, shook her head, and said in a calm but uncompromising tone, "I will still send you your living expenses on time every month, but let's forget about going to the Jiang family."

Cui Jiayi's smile froze on her face; the curve of her lips was still there, but the smile had instantly vanished from her eyes.

Her fingers tightened slightly as she gripped the coffee cup, her nails scratching a tiny mark on the cup's surface.

She wanted to lash out, to slam her fist on the table, and to use her father's dying words to suppress her, just like before.

But she couldn't, because the two bodyguards behind Cui Ying were watching her with indifferent eyes.

Cui Jiayi took a deep breath, adjusted the stiff smile on her face to its most natural curve, and said softly, "It's up to you, sister." Then she lowered her head, took a sip of coffee, and swallowed back the sourness and resentment that welled up in her throat.

In the end, she could only watch as Cui Ying walked out of the coffee shop through the glass door under the escort of bodyguards, and watch the black sedan drive away smoothly.

Her fingers were clenched so tightly under the table that her knuckles turned white, and her nails dug deep into her palms, leaving several bright red crescent-shaped marks.

She couldn't understand why Cui Ying was so lucky. She married into a wealthy family, had children, lived in a big house, was pampered, and everyone cared about her feelings.

And what about Cui Jiayi? She has lived in her sister's shadow since she was a child. Her father only thought of her sister before he died, and now even the little bit of dignity she has managed to build up is about to be trampled on.

Why...

She picked up the now-cold coffee and took a sip. The bitter liquid slid down her throat, calming her agitated mood somewhat.

But it doesn't matter, she has other options.

As long as that idiot Wu Yue is still in her hands, as long as she still has leverage over him, she won't be left with nowhere to turn.

She leaned back in her chair, looking through the glass window at the endless stream of pedestrians on the street, and Su Qing's face appeared in her mind.

She would never forget the way that bitch looked at her at the party—so arrogant and condescending, as if she were just a fly that had accidentally flown into the living room.

She'll make sure that bitch never wears that expression again.